"I don't see it," Sweets shrugged, staring at the man in the FBI interrogation room. "He has absolutely no motive. He's not showing any signs of guilt. And why would an totally loaded antiques dealer go around chopping people's heads off, anyway?"
The kid was right, Booth knew. They had no physical evidence or motive linking the suspect to the spate of decapitations, just a dusty twenty year old cold case. But then the man smiled through the mirror at them, patient and dangerous. A chill shot through Booth.
He was stone cold certain that Russell Nash was a killer.