"So there's another question." Jack pointed at the bodies on the ground, "Where did all the blood go?"
An adult's total blood volume accounts for approximately 7%-8% of their body weight, which is about 5-6 liters.
Although the bloodstains left by the two victims at the murder scene were clearly arterial splatter, the amount alone was far from enough.
"Slant cult sacrifices usually require a large amount of blood, which is called a blood sacrifice. The posture of the first deceased has religious meaning, and the cigar and beer in the mouth of the second deceased can also be regarded as offerings."
Jack looked at Lopez and said, "Can you help investigate the local religious groups involved in black magic and witchcraft to ask if there are similar sacrificial practices.
The murderer may have used animal sacrifices at the beginning. For example, Voodoo has the tradition of using bull heads, but living people and blood are usually advanced behaviors."
Lopez nodded, "I don't know much about this kind of situation in Tijuana, but I know who to find. Give me one night and I should have results tomorrow."
At this time, Jubal also thought of another clue, "Did Hannah find any leaking tire marks at the scene?"
"Yes." Hannah's answer came from outside the video screen, "We arrived early this time, and the biodiesel has not completely evaporated. I have taken samples and will send them back to the domestic laboratory later."
European countries that pay attention to so-called environmental protection and carbon emissions are the main consumers of biodiesel. Among South American countries, only Brazil, which is rich in soybeans, is promoting this expensive environmentally friendly fuel.
Of course, a certain large Eastern nation, which uses waste cooking oil, also known as gutter oil, to produce biodiesel, is an exception.
In Mexico, poverty accounts for over 40% of the population, and food is clearly a far greater concern than environmental protection. The fact that the killer could afford the relatively expensive biodiesel yet refused to even repair the leaking fuel tank or pipes is a rather paradoxical point.
Jack, using a flashlight, followed the tire tracks around the body and, as expected, found a pool of oil about twenty meters away. It seemed the killer had been using the same vehicle throughout.
Thinking of the war-damaged pickup trucks and sedans that plagued the streets of Mexico, he sighed with regret.
If he were in China, he could have the tire tracks analyzed by a CSI lab and perhaps identify the vehicle model. Combined with the biodiesel clues, he could report them to the local police. Even in major cities like Los Angeles or New York, a result would be available within two or three days.
Unfortunately, in Mexico, technical methods of investigation were almost impossible. However, since the killer might be a serial killer, the BAU's behavioral analysis theory might be useful.
——It
was already late at night when everyone returned to the hotel. Alice was still busy at the computer, and Aubrey was making coffee at the bar.
Jubal asked as soon as he entered the room, "Have you found any connection between the two victims?"
"Not yet." Alice took the coffee handed to her by Aubrey, sniffed it, smiled with satisfaction, and then got down to business.
"Apart from being both Americans, the two have almost nothing in common. Lee Kern is an ordinary high school senior in San Diego, and Robert Miller is from a small town in Arizona.
He used to be an engineer for Mexico's BTL Oil Company, but he resigned nine months ago.
But the strange thing is that although Miller's wife and two children live in Arizona, he has been traveling back and forth between the two borders for the past six months."
"Looking for a job, or addicted to gambling?" Jack remembered that Robert Miller was killed in the parking lot under the dog racing track.
Aubrey looked at Jack with a half-smile. "Neither of those things are likely true. Although Robert Mueller lost his job, his previous investments in stocks and businesses have yielded healthy returns.
Greyhound racing seems to be just a hobby for him, with small bets at each bet."
Sensing a hint of ill will in his expression, Jack asked curiously, "So?"
"So we tracked some of his bills and discovered that some were not sent to his residence in the US, but to Navado, a small town outside Tijuana."
Aubrey handed Jack the tablet he was holding. It showed a photo of a family of three: Robert Mueller, the husband, his wife in her early twenties, and their son, who was only five or six years old, with typical Latino looks.
"This guy has a family in the US and another in Mexico?" Jack suddenly realized, then glared at him fiercely, finally understanding the mocking expression.
"Scumbag, a role model for all men, a scornful object, unforgivable." Before someone could finish their muttering, a pair of car keys flew towards him.
Jiejie took Hannah's arm with disdain. "Go get in the car. We're going to visit this bigamist's wife in Mexico."
—
"It's a nice town. The surroundings look just as good as back home." Clay, who had been invited along by Jack, sat in the passenger seat, observing the scene outside.
"It's just like those peaceful countrysides back home," Jack agreed. "It's been a while since we left Tijuana."
Hannah, who had been fiddling with her tablet in the back seat, showed her screen. "This is a wealthy area on the outskirts of Tijuana. I hear online that many wealthy Americans buy property here to keep mistresses."
"What a damn rich person!" someone chimed in, unconcerned about their billionaire status.
The properties here looked similar to those in the US: two-story wooden structures with front lawns and small gardens in the back. The four of them didn't rush in to knock on the door, but instead cautiously circled the property.
"The perimeter is safe, nothing unusual." Clay was still carrying a Noveske N4 assault rifle and wearing a bulletproof vest with the FBI logo printed on it. The other three were also equipped with similar equipment.
Although Tijuana was not like Juarez, where the entire city was like a battlefield at night, they had also passed through several tense and dangerous neighborhoods along the way.
And considering that they were about to face a hysterical Mexican housewife who was a major suspect in murder, it didn't seem too much to just go to her door with a rifle.
The four of them stood on both sides of the door. Jack reached out and knocked on the door, and soon there was a sound of footsteps.
The young Latino woman and her young son appeared at the open door together. The smile on her face disappeared instantly after seeing the four fully armed men, and turned into a look of horror.
(Tsundere head tilt)
(End of this chapter)