Vindication
Chapter
1
The Restaurant
"In a restaurant one is both observed and unobserved. Joy and sorrow can be displayed and observed "unwittingly," " – David Mamet
They could get nothing from the victimology, and the MO was different. But the signature was there: a photograph of the victim with a cross through the face taped to a mirror in each of the three cases. The victim's bodies had been dumped seven to ten days later. Pathology indicated that the victims had been alive for most if not all that time.
Dave stared down at the pictures. Three women, aged between thirty and sixty. One had been shot, the other two strangled. He called the photo lab.
'Would it be possible to tell if these pictures are all from the same photograph, or have they been taken at different times.............? Ok thank you. And please treat it as urgent.'
He put down the phone. They had had the case for a little over twenty four hours, since the last victim was found, as so far they had made no progress whatsoever. He had sent the team home, hoping for fresh eyes in the morning.
He thought it would be good to have Hotch back.
-0-0-0-
'.....so now I'm ready to return to work, Dave. It's nerve racking. It's been so long!'
'I can understand. My return to the BAU was different to yours, but I was still very nervous. How about we go out and do something, take your mind off it for a while.'
'Well, I.... er... '
'I'll be there in thirty minutes, Aaron.' and he put the phone down. Hotch looked at the receiver and sighed.
'I suppose it can't hurt.' he said to himself and went to the bathroom to shower and change.
His right hand was no longer bandaged, but it still hurt – although that was something he kept to himself – and he walked with a pronounced limp. That could be permanent, the doctor had said, but he could still run, although maybe not as fast as he used to. It wouldn't affect his work, he had said, and now, the day before he was due back, he was starting to second guess himself. What if he wasn't ready?
The last two months had been particularly harrowing for Hotch. He had known men who couldn't cope with being raped once giving up on life. He had endured multiple rapes and beatings. Some of his confidence was lost, and he didn't want anyone to know. He hadn't even told Dave how he felt, although he had been there for him every step of his recovery. He knew Dave too well.
He suddenly thought, as he let the hot water run through his hair, that Dave knew him too, and probably knew how he felt. He smiled to himself. That's what comes with working with the world's top profilers.
He dressed in a pair of black jeans, a crisp white tee shirt, and a waist coat. He toyed with the idea of wearing a shirt and tie, but it always made him feel overdressed against Dave, and he put the shirt back in his wardrobe. He was just coming downstairs when the doorbell rang.
He opened the door to Dave, and looked past him down the road.
'You expecting someone else?' Dave said.
'Uh no.' Hotch said. 'I just thought I was being followed earlier. The car's gone now though.' He looked at Dave's concerned face. 'It's ok, I'm not paranoid!'
'That's all right then. You ready?'
'Almost. Come in while I finish. I need to shave.'
Dave sat in Hotch's new living room. He was glad Hotch had moved from the big house he used to share with Haley. He knew from experience that it helped in the moving on to move home. There was nothing of Haley here, just the presence of a second bedroom for Jack when he came to stay. He thanked heaven, not for the first time, that he had no children.
'Ok I'm ready.' he announced, and Dave stood up.
'I've booked us a table at the Italiano. I think you'll like it. Italian how Mum used to make it.'
The two men left the house, and headed towards the cars.
'I'll drive, Aaron, then you can have a drink. You need to loosen up.'
I am loosened up!' Hotch declared, pointing to his tie-less throat.
Dave looked at him with exasperation as they got into his car.
'Relax and enjoy yourself.' he said, knowing in his heart that it was nigh on impossible for Hotch to do that.
-0-0-0-
The restaurant that Rossi had picked was perfect. Unobtrusive waiters, soft music and a wonderful smell of Italian cooking. It was quite crowded, but there was a window table free, and Rossi asked if they could have that seat. It was a little way from the closest table, and Dave guessed that the conversation would turn to serial killers sooner or later through the evening, however hard he tried to keep the conversation away from work. They sat down by the window and leisurely perused the menu. The food arrived quickly and Dave ordered Perrier for himself and picked a bottle of dry white wine for Hotch. Aaron smiled in approval.
'How did you know?........' he asked.
'I'm a profiler!' was Dave's response.
Suddenly Hotch put down his fork.
'Ok, so tell me about the case.'
'You are supposed to be relaxing!' Dave responded, but he sighed and went on, 'All right, I suppose you will know tomorrow anyway.'
He went on to describe the case. Three women, abducted, held prisoner for a week to ten days, killed, and dumped. He told Hotch about the signature photograph, and the inconsistent MO.
'Two strangulations and a shooting.' he finished.
'So, more than one killer working together.' Hotch said. 'Strangling is personal, whereas shooting isn't.'
'That's what we thought.' Dave said. 'But we can't seem to find a connection between the women.'
'Well, the photographs prove that it isn't random, so there must be a connection.' Hotch said.
'I have got the lab working on finding out whether the photographs are from one larger picture or not.'
'These murders are mission killings. They have a list and they are going through it. The point is, how does one qualify to be on the list?'
'And why are they kept alive for a week before they are killed?' Dave said. 'So far we have come up with nothing regarding that.'
'Were the women beaten or tortured?' Hotch asked, his own experience still at the fore.
'Yes, it looked as if they had been beaten. There were signs of sexual activity in the woman who was shot, and it appeared to be consensual, although we can't be certain of that.'
'Were the bodies displayed or just dumped?' Hotch asked.
'Dumped, with a minimal effort to hide them. They were dumped in the woods away from pathways and popular locations.'
'So the UnSubs know the woods. Local do you think?'
'Possibly. Only two of the victims were local. The other was from out of state, but brought here either before or after death for dumping.'
'Had the out of state victim ever lived in or near Quantico?' Hotch asked, picking up his fork again. The food was too good to let it get cold.
'No. But enough shop talk. Let's change the subject.'
'Ok, I'll go first!' Hotch laughed. 'How are Reid and Prentiss?'
'Reid has been back for a few weeks now, and is doing fine. His foot still gives him trouble, but other than that, he seems to have recovered well.'
Hotch thought back to the occasion just before Reid went back to work, he visited Hotch at home to give him the news. Reid had not mentioned their relationship, and Hotch was glad. He hated having to say 'no' to Reid after all they had been through, especially at the hand of Kaye, but Reid avoided the subject, and they had had coffee together and chatted about work and past cases. Emily on the other hand had come over several times and asked to be given another chance. Hotch had had to say 'no' to her. His heart was broken and bruised, and he was nursing it carefully. He wasn't ready for a relationship. After the rapes, he thought it would be a long time, if ever, before he would be able to see sex as an expression of love rather than one of greed and hatred.
Yes. It would be a long time.
He jumped back to the present as Dave put his hand on Hotch's shoulder.
'Hey, Aaron, where are you?'
'Oh sorry. Yes.... what were you saying?'
'Prentiss – she seems to be throwing herself into her work. I take it that you two are no longer involved.'
'No we're not. I'm not ready yet.'
'Don't rush it, Aaron. There's plenty of time.'
'The voice of experience!' Hotch said with a grin, sipping his wine. 'Excuse me; I need the men's room.'
Hotch put his napkin on the table, and got up. Dave pointed him in the right direction, and Hotch limped across the floor. Dave didn't notice the woman get up and follow him.
-0-0-0-
Hotch looked down at his hands in the water. His right hand showed red scarring where it had been crushed, and he washed it carefully. It still gave him pain, and he was glad it was his right hand and not his left. He filled the basin with hot water and plunged his hands in. The heat gave relief to the pain that he was experiencing, and it felt good. He glanced up into the mirror, and was surprised to see a woman standing behind him. He turned and faced her.
She was rather pretty in a fragile kind of way. Her blonde hair was cut short and spiky on top and long at the sides. Her eyes were deep blue – Hotch wondered for a moment whether she wore contact lenses.
'You....erm.... you have the wrong room.' he smiled.
'I don't think that I have.' she said, and took a step towards him. He stepped back against the basin. She took his face in her hands and leaned forwards and kissed him gently on the lips. When she drew back he looked at her, puzzled.
'I'm sure that you can do better than that.' she said softly, and kissed him again. This time he kissed her back. He wondered if she was a prostitute, and pulled away.
'I know what you are thinking.' she said, 'but you are wrong. I want you.'
'I c-can't.' Hotch said, trying to slip away from her, but she was too close. She put her hands in his hair and drew his face to hers. He closed his eyes and kissed her.
He suddenly pulled away as he felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck.
'What was?.......' he began.
She stood back and watched him as he staggered slightly and reached out to the wall to steady himself. The wall was further away than he calculated and he fell sideways onto the floor. He rolled onto his back and stared up at her.
'What?.....' he struggled to talk as his mouth felt the affects of the drug she had given him. He tried to turn over to get back up, but the weakness was taking over his body and he couldn't move.
She went to the door and opened it, and turning right, went back into the restaurant, passing two men as she went. They didn't acknowledge each other although they were well known to her. The men opened the door to the men's room and went to the fallen agent. One of them silently and easily picked him up and lifted him over his shoulder over his shoulder while the other one stuck a photograph to the mirror. The three men left the men's room and turned left towards the fire escape.
