So I've had this story tootling around in my mind for a while now, and since I'm on winter break, I thought I'd better write it down! I hope you enjoy it.
Reid leaned back in his chair, his eyes flitting across the bullpen. "Eight-thousand, two-hundred and twenty-two point ninety-six."
Emily applauded, "Nineteen seconds. The record for that riddle, before you of course, was nine minutes."
"Thank you," Reid smirked proudly. "Really, it's simple mathematics. If you multiply the – "
"Reid," Emily interrupted. "I don't want to know how it works."
"Oh, sorry," Reid said, turning his attention to Hotch as the rest of the team entered the bullpen.
"Hello everyone, I trust you've had a relaxing weekend," Hotch said.
A chorus of "yes-sirs" followed.
"Good. Garcia," Hotch motioned.
Garcia hurried to the front of the round table, clicking her remote and turning her back to the screen of images. "Ok, well, as you can see, our UNSUB is quite – brutal. He kills in pairs, and bludgeons his victims. The killings are all in the Seattle area, and the police there have requested our assistance."
"Thanks, Garcia. Wheels up in thirty," Hotch rose from the table.
"Well he doesn't' appear to feel any remorse, all of the victims are exposed with their eyes open," Morgan pointed out.
"Do you think he's a single UNSUB, or could it be a team? Killing in pairs is risky, it requires a lot of control and power," Reid said.
"Look at the marks on the victims, the cuts on their hands, that's only one signature. I'd say this was a single UNSUB, unless his partner isn't killing," Rossi suggested.
"Guys?" Garcia flickered onto the screen with a confused look on her face.
"What did you find, Garcia?" Hotch asked.
Garcia looked at her screen, then back at Hotch, her mouth gaping a little. Shaking it off, she spoke to Hotch, "Um… yes. Ok, the autopsy reports say that the victims all had traces of poison in their stomachs? Apparently, it was a home batch. Rat poison, various cleaning agents and a whole bunch of other nasty chemicals that I can't pronounce."
"Can you try? Garcia?" Reid asked.
"Botulinal neurotoxin, shigella, palytoxin, ricin and aflatoxins?" Garcia guessed.
"Those are mostly household toxins, but I don't know how he would get the victims to ingest them," Reid frowned.
"You hold a gun to their heads and tell them to drink it," Prentiss said.
"No, it's more than that. The toxins you described were simple as viral bacteria's, and mold that grows on nuts," Reid shook his head.
"Whatever it was, it didn't kill them," Garcia said, speaking slowly as she frowned again.
"Those toxins would only make you sick after a prolonged exposure, even that isn't guaranteed if the victim's immune system is strong enough. The cleaning agents and rat poison would be the things that would kill a person. You said the victims died from bludgeoning?" Reid asked.
"Yep," Garcia said, not fully paying attention to the conversation.
"Anyone exposed to that kind of poison would almost certainly be killed within minutes," Reid said.
"Maybe the UNSUB gave it to them after they died," Morgan suggested.
"Garcia, are you all right?" Hotch asked.
"What? Oh yes, sorry sir. Garcia, over and out," the screen flicked off.
"We're beginning our ascent into Seattle. Approximate arrival time is three-thirty, Pacific Time," The pilot said over the intercom. "Please fasten your seatbelts."
"This is spooky," Garcia said, her eyes darting across her computer's screen. Turning it off, she put her head in her hands, "I have to get a new hobby. I think you might be losing it, Pen."
Thanks for your comments!