Disclaimer: I don't own anything of course and I won't tell this again…
Author's note:
First, for the timeline: This story has nothing to do with my former Profiler stories. It takes place in season one not much after Night Dreams (episode #7), so Sam doesn't know her workmates that well.
2. I live in a small town in Hungary, so I know nothing about Boston. However I made some research and the places that are mentioned are real (due to the sources on the Net, at least). Every other detail is made up by me so I hope if there's somebody from Boston amongst the readers he/she won't feel offended.
3. I wanted to mention that this was my first idea for a Profiler story but when I started to write fanfics I didn't feel myself capable to write such a complicated story.
4. This story will contain some disturbing themes, so be warned: I didn't rate it as 'M' by accident.
I think I managed to write my longest AN ever!
I hope you will like this story and if you do please let me know! Thank you!
Poison
Chapter 1.
The briefing started a little bit late which was very out of character for Bailey. They started at nine every day and now it was already five past nine and their boss was nowhere to be seen. Sam looked around the table at her workmates. Grace was staring into her cup of coffee and Sam knew that she was close to sleeping in. They all went home late the day before – or actually for Sam it was already today, at 1 a.m.! – because of some very difficult cases they were working on.
George was doing something again on his computer and he looked quite vivid despite the few hours they managed to sleep in the last weeks. It was nothing new of course but these past weeks were really rough even by FBI standards. John, on the other end of the table, was massaging his shoulder absentmindedly. Sam guessed that the gun-shot wound still hurt him however when he was more awake he showed no sign of this. Sam also noticed that he wore the same shirt as yesterday.
Sam rubbed her eyes and thought about her decision again: it wasn't even five months since she came back to the FBI and she already regretted it more times that she could count. She had to see the most terrible things every day, she had to work extremely impossible hours, she could spend less and less time with Chloe and she could get injured or even die… she was still here. Why? Sam knew that the main cause of her decision was some good old sense of guilt. She felt remorse because she couldn't stop Jack, because she didn't use her gift for so long, because she let Bailey down… the list was endless. She also knew – as a psychiatrist at least – that most of these feelings were unfounded. But this knowledge didn't change anything, so she stayed.
Fortunately Bailey's coming put off her brooding. Their boss was a little bit out of breath and seemed to be rather irritated.
"I've just talked to Assistant Director Murdock" he started without any preamble. "From today on we have a new priority case and we are leaving to Boston in half an hour."
"Great" Grace groaned.
"What's with the other cases?" Sam asked. "We have already eleven ongoing…"
"The consultations are given over to Quantico, the actual investigations are still ours but this case in Boston is the most important. I don't know much yet, they are sending over the files at the moment so we can speak about it during the flight, but in a nutshell: four teenagers were killed brutally. They were practically beaten to death and before that they were all raped. It's a great stir in the news and the local detectives found nothing until now. The main problem is that the murders happened in a part of the city that is known to be the base of more organized crime groups. So it's quite a delicate situation."
"Grace and George you're also coming. Now that Nathan is on leave I'll need you both. That's all people, pack and be ready in twenty minutes!"
"Wow" George said "Murdock really managed to blow Bailey's mind this time."
"We better pull ourselves together" Grace added and stood up abruptly. "I'll go packing."
Sam also stood up and decided to call Angel. She didn't really have to pack, she always had a carry-on in her office and she didn't have any other equipment. When she walked back out, after talking not only to Angel but also to Chloe she found only John there. He was at his desk, a backpack in front of him and he was talking on the phone while writing on a notepad.
Sam knew that he was probably talking to someone at the Boston Police Department. It was always John's task to arrange everything with the locals and get as many information as possible. It wasn't always easy as the FBI was often the enemy and the agents were the ones who wanted to steal the case. From the deepening frown on John's face Sam concluded that this time was no different.
She stepped next to the other agent just as he was finishing the conservation.
"…I understand but it really would be very important for us to see the scene untouched… All right, but please do what you can… thank you…"
He put down the receiver and cursed.
"The thickheaded Irish bastard…"
"Hey, don't be a racist…" Sam said with a smile.
"I can't be: my ancestors came from Ireland themselves."
"Did they?"
"Unfortunately" he took the backpack with his right hand and then dropped it back down with a hiss of pain.
"Are you all right?" Sam asked worriedly. "Is your shoulder hurting?"
"It's just because I spent the night at this desk…" he answered shrugging, but Sam had to notice that even the shrug was done only with the left shoulder.
"You worked all night?" she asked instead making a comment on that one.
"Theoretically. But I slept in at about three and woke up in a quite uncomfortable position."
"You should be more careful. How much time's gone by since your injury, three weeks?"
"I'm fine, Sam. Let's not talk about it, okay?" and he turned back to the notepad, indicating that he finished the conversation.
Sam just sighed and made her own comment about thickheaded Irish bastards only mentally.
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The assistant director was very generous and offered his own plane for their ride so they could talk about the case without being watched by curious tourists. The plane was quite luxurious and not for the first time John had to wonder how it came that the VCTF had financial problems all the time while their superiors were traveling with such vehicles. But this put back his thoughts on their destination and the coldness in his heart raised its ugly head again.
He hated Boston. Every time he had to travel there the memories he buried in the deepest corners of his mind came back with full force. That was why he avoided the city. The last time he was there was almost five years ago when his grandfather died. Last year they had a case in Boston but he managed to stay in Atlanta. With some excuses he achieved that only Nathan had to go. Now though, Nathan was occupied with his disintegrating marriage and deserved his few days off.
He shook his head and turned back his attention to Bailey who was talking about the murders.
"The first victim was Josh Hardy, 15. He was found by a homeless man in a dumpster. On Friday afternoon he didn't go home from school and the locals think that he was abducted on his way home. They found remains of a strong tranquilizer in his blood but only in low dosage so they guess that he was awake by the time the murder happened, during the night. His arms were bound behind his back and there are signs of struggling. He was raped and beaten. The direct cause of his death was the mangle on air caused by his collapsed lungs. The second victim, Derek Blair, 16. Also found in a garbage container last Monday. He disappeared on Saturday two weeks ago after a party. He was also narcotized, raped and beaten. Died of brain trauma caused by a skull-fracture. The third teenager died of extreme blood-loss caused also by the beatings. His name's Alan Brenson and was only 14. The fourth victim was found only hours ago… John?"
"I talked to the leader of the investigation, a Detective O'Malley. He wasn't very helpful but he promised not to ruin the scene totally. The victim is yet unidentified but is about fifteen and was severely beaten. A patrol found him in a container next to a restaurant. All the murders happened in District 4 and the boys were residents in that area."
"So our murder has a territory. He probably lives there" Sam said.
"The district has a Sexual Assault Unit and the case belongs to them. This is all I could find out. And a rented car already waits us at the airport."
"All right" Bailey took the word again. "I made copies of the files, read them."
He handed out the folders and after he took one John sat back on his seat and started to read through the files. Or at least he tried to until Sam dropped down next to him.
"Don't you have something to read?" he asked.
"I just wanted to ask you if you are all right" the blonde woman asked with an innocent smile.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"You seem to be… I don't know, distant…"
Does this woman recognize everything? John cursed mentally. He knew that he wasn't there totally during the briefing however he thought that nobody could notice it. He could always hide his emotions, he mastered it at a very young age. He strengthened his barriers and answered nonchalantly.
"I'm just tired."
"Of course… it's been a tough two weeks, especially with your injury…"
"There's nothing wrong with my shoulder, Sam!" he snapped suddenly and added. "I have to read this through if you don't mind…"
He didn't know what fell into him to become so irritated. It has to be Boston… he thought.
"Okay… I'm sorry" Sam said quietly and he could see the surprise in her eyes.
He wanted to apologize but she was already gone and he didn't know whether it would be a good idea to continue their conversation. He was too irritated and tired for a shrink at the moment.
He started to read the report and tried to close out the aggressive memories that tried to attack his mind. It wasn't just Boston but the area. District four. That meant South End, Roxbury and Fenway. Those were the places where he grew up, the land of his father. O'Doyle had a lot of interests in that area: pubs, clubs, restaurants and of course the betting offices, most of those were completely legal.
John guessed that they would have a lot of problems with the local detectives. He didn't want to be prejudiced but higher ranking officers were in connection with the mob on some level at almost every department. Even if the Sexual Assault Unit was of no real interest for the organized crime groups they still might have some people there. Not to mention that in this part of the city people didn't like to talk to members of law enforcement. It will be very hard to find witnesses.
He was still brooding when their pilot announced landing. So they were here, and he still didn't find out how to face the city.
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Sam couldn't stop studying John while they were getting off the plane. He behaved very strangely. She tried to ask Bailey's opinion about it but her old friend didn't see anything extraordinary. He only said that John sometimes became moody but Sam has never experienced something like this from the younger agent. John never lost his cocky style and ridiculous sense of humor, even when they were working on the most terrible cases, he was the one who kept up their spirits.
Now though he was almost grim.
They found their rented car and packed in everything.
"The body was found in Thwig Street" Bailey said and turned to George. "Do you have a map of the city?"
"Of course, just a moment…"
"We don't need it" John cut in. "I know where it is, I'll drive."
"Okay then."
Sam ended up to sitting next to John in the front seat and couldn't stop herself from asking:
"Have you been here before?"
"Yes."
"You had a case here?"
"No."
"Your vocabulary is quite limited today" she said jokingly but John obviously wasn't at his humor.
"I'm sorry, Sam" he didn't take off his eyes of the road while he was speaking. "I simply hate this city, it awakes some bad memories."
"Sorry… I don't want to pry."
"No, it's okay. Just let's not talk about it…"
"All right."
The rest of the way they spent in silence and Sam went back to read through the reports.
They found the crime scene easily, as it happened in a small street and it was closed down by two patrols. John parked down and after showing their badges they could go through the lockdown. Only George stayed behind, he wasn't needed at the scene and he wasn't really fond of seeing dead bodies.
A lanky, dark haired man in his forties greeted them.
"You're from the FBI if I'm not mistaken! I'm Detective O'Malley."
"Yes, I'm Bailey Malone. You've talked to Agent Grant already and these are Agents Waters and Alvarez."
They shook hands.
"I'd like to examine the body" Sam said.
"Of course. We pulled it out but other than that we didn't touch it."
He wasn't impolite but there was something in his face that told Sam that they weren't welcome. She started off with Grace and let Bailey back to handle the local hostility.
The body was lying next to container and Sam almost gasped when she saw the state of it. Even Grace, the experienced coroner took in a sharp breath.
"Oh, my… I don't envy his mother" she said quietly.
Grace kneeled down next to the naked body and pulled on gloves.
"His cheekbones are definitely broken, and so is his nose… at least five ribs on the left side… and four on the right… but I say this only to the touch… bruises all over the abdomen" she cautiously rolled over the body. "He was raped…I'll let myself escort to the morgue together with the body and I'll tell you more after the autopsy."
Sam watched the face of the boy. She could see even through the many bruises that he must have been a good-looking teenager.
"I don't think that this was a sexual crime. This was about power and vengeance" she said quietly. "He gratified his wishes and then dropped down the body here and he wanted it to be found very quickly… I'll go and talk to Bailey" she said then, shaking herself out of the grips of the horrible pictures that were invading her mind.
Bailey was still talking to Detective O'Malley, John was nowhere to be seen.
"Do you have sex offender registry?" Bailey was asking at the moment.
"Yes, and we checked every known assaulter but none of them is our suspect. We could find it out easily as this guy had left is semen in every victim. He isn't scared, that's for sure."
"Did you find out something about the boy?" Sam asked.
"No, but two of the others went to Boston High School."
"I'll go there with John, if you don't mind" Sam turned to Bailey.
"Okay. Do you think that this boy went to the same school?"
"Yes. This man has a limited hunting territory and anyway I'd like to find out as much about the victims as possible. Where's John?"
"He takes a look around. However I don't think that we'll be able to find any witnesses here."
"People here around tend to close their eyes if they see something" O'Malley said. "It's often the wisest decision…"
"You think so?" came a voice from behind and when Sam turned she saw John staring at the detective.
"Actually, I do. It's not very tactical to fight against the mob."
John obviously wanted to tell something more and Sam guessed that it wouldn't be too 'tactical' either, so she cut in.
"John, do you know, where the Boston High School is?"
"Yes" he grumbled but was still staring at O'Malley.
"Then let's go!"
They were already in the car that they got from the locals (so that George and Bailey could use the rented one) and John was still fuming – at least Sam thought so, because he didn't say a single word.
"I thought our strategy is to be friendly to the local detectives, to build up a good working relationship" Sam said after they pulled away from the scene.
"This O'Malley is a corrupt bastard."
"You know him already?"
"I know his kind. And he obviously doesn't want us here."
"That's true."
"I told you so…"
Sam decided to let this topic for later when John was less angry, leant back in her seat and closed her eyes to rest a little bit.
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