Chapter 1: Uhm…Professor?
"Socrates went on to explain what he thought knowledge to be, could anyone tell me what he said? Anyone, oh come on now, one of you has to have remembered reading this in the Meno. It wasn't that boring," the young philosophy professor implored of his class, trying his best not to sound discouraged by their obvious lack of interest. Not that he could blame them, it was early on a Monday morning after all.
"Socrates described knowledge as being the right opinioned tied down by a reason why," a voice from the back of the room piped up.
"Yes, thank you John," the professor exclaimed, excited that someone out there was alive today. "You just saved your fellow classmates from a particularly brutal essay assignment." The entire lecture hall of 50 plus students perked up at that suggestion. He grinned wickedly at them before efficiently dashing their hopes. "Psych, you're still going to have that essay."
The resounding groan was music to his ears. He had not been out of graduate school and teaching for long but he had already begun to enjoy bursting the occasional student's bubble.
At that moment, a cell phone went off playing Darth Vader's Imperial March as the ringer, and to his chagrin, he recognized it as his own phone. Fumbling about in his pocket, he located the phone and the name on the display was enough to both frighten and relieve him. In bold black letters, the display read…Dad. He had been expecting and dreading this call for two days now, and was loathe to ignore it.
"Uhm… Professor Gideon?" A student asked, snapping his attention off the phone and back to his classroom.
"Yes, why don't you guys come up here and grab this essay assignment," he said pointing to a pile of paper on the table in the front of the room, "and we'll call it a day." That being said, he gathered his stuff and opening the cell phone excited the room before any of his students could.
"Hello," Stephan Gideon said into the receiver making a beeline to the elevators hoping to catch one that was going up. It would be easier to carryout this particular conversation in the privacy of his office. "Sorry about that," he told the person on the other end, "I was in the middle of a class."
"No, no, I let them out early. You don't have to call me back," Stephan reassured his father. "Oh," he stopped in the middle of the hall, halfway to the elevator his surprise evident on his face. "Yeah, that would work I can meet you somewhere. No it's not a hassle I can be done for the day." The person on the other end of the line began making excuses for him, and Steve resisted the urge to role his eyes.
"Dad, seriously it's no problem." He said cutting into the other person's excuses, "I know this perfect place too, down in the Village," when his father reluctantly agreed Steve hurriedly told him the directions. "Alright meet you there, let's say around 1:00. Deal?" He barely waited to hear his dad's last comments before hanging up the cell phone.
Steve continued on his way to the elevators and spent the rest of his time at the university in a daze. He wanted this interview, he needed to know what was going on, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to see his father again after all these years. The occasional phone conversation had been enough of an attempt at reconcile that he was comfortable with. Something told him, that his father was just as nervous.
Jason Gideon walked into the pleasant looking pizzeria with his nerves on fire, it was not a common sensation for Gideon, and he hid it well. No one, even if they knew him well could tell that he was nervous.
Gideon was unsure of the reception he would receive and for moral support, he brought along Hotchner, though he never bothered to tell Hotch why. Hotch was the only member of the team who Stephan would be familiar with. Hell, he's the only one who knows I have a son, Gideon thought bitterly.
It wasn't that hard to spot Stephan sitting by the windows in the slightly crowded pizzeria. He looked like a much younger version of his father, there were only a few differences the major one was he had his mother's eyes. Gideon was not prepared for the shock of regret he got at seeing those light green eyes watching him.
Stephan stood from where he was sitting and reached out to shake his father's hand, it was a rather stiff and formal greeting, but Gideon was comfortable with it for now. Steve smiled at Hotch before shaking his hand; it was an open and friendly smile one that reminded Gideon of the boy's mother. He had inherited her friendly fun-loving attitude not the deathly seriousness of his father.
"Why don't you guys pull up a chair," Stephan said sitting back down. It was then that Gideon noticed the open notebook and novel lying on the table; a pencil was being used as a bookmarker. As he pulled up a nearby chair and sat down Gideon read the title of the book, it was On Bullshit. It caught his attention to say the least.
"Are you studying bullshit now?" Gideon asked, using the book as an icebreaker.
"Well, yes and no," Steve answered him glancing down at the book. "I'm reading it as research. I am trying to decide if I want to use this book or another one by Frankfurt in my Ethics class next semester." His answer took Gideon by surprise.
"You're a professor?" Hotch asked sounding genuinely interested. Steve nodded in reply to Hotchner's question.
"I teach over at the Columbia University. I was an adjunct there for a few years and only recently became a fulltime professor."
"What are you a professor of?" Gideon asked and Stephan smiled before answering.
"Philosophy which some people claim is nothing but bullshit," was the humorous reply. They fell silent then, no one knowing how to broach the subject that had brought them together. Finally unable to wait any longer Gideon cleared his throat, getting the attention of everyone.
"Turns out Stephan," he began lamely but Gideon knew no other way to say this. If it had been someone other than his own son, his own estranged son, it would not be so awkward. "That you may be right, she could be connected to it all."
It was remarkable, the change that that one sentence had on Stephan. Any traces of humor disappeared form his face, his eyes became hard and suddenly his resemblance and relation to Gideon was undeniable.
"I was hoping you'd tell me I was wrong." He said in a serious voice, almost void of all emotion. One look in his guarded eyes told the profiler that Stephan was trying to protect himself. Protect himself from what…, Gideon asked himself.
"No you were right; the victim's semblance to her is undeniable. If I never knew her I would have sworn that it was Matilda."
"Please tell me that looks were the only connection," Stephan asked his voice almost pleading.
"No, the killer left a message," Gideon replied his own voice distant, he had to remind himself that right now he was a profiler not a father. He opened the velum folder he had brought with him and pulled out a crime scene photo, one that showed both the body and the 'love' note. Stephan stared at it for a while before lowering his head to his hands; it was an expression of both grief and disbelief.
"Excuse me," Hotch interrupted, cutting through the tension that had been growing between father and son. "Gideon how do you and your son know this Matilda?" Stephan made no effort to explain so Gideon, watching his son like a hawk, answered his fellow agent's question.
"I wouldn't have put it together if Steve hadn't called me about the most recent murder, just before the case briefing no less. Then when JJ was going through the missing person's files when we arrived at the NYPD, the name Matilda Higgins came up."
"Right," Hotch replied trying to put it all together, "she was the only woman fitting all four vic's descriptions that had gone missing in June exactly a year prior to the first murder. That was three years ago. What's the connection between Matilda Higgins and you?"
"Matilda Higgins was the daughter of our next door neighbor," Stephan supplied finally lifting his head out of his hands, "we grew up together."
"She was also Stephan's girlfriend in college," Gideon continued, "and when I checked who filed the missing person's report it lead back to Stephan."
"I checked that too," Hotch said watching both father and son, "it was a Stephan Nolan that filed the report. Not a Stephan Gideon."
"I used my mother's maiden name when I filed the report," Stephan explained, admitting to have had filed the report in question.
"Why?"
"I didn't want Dad to hear about it. I knew it was a long shot that he ever would but," Stephan shrugged then, as if that explained everything.
"You know that makes you look suspicious Steve," Gideon told his son. The younger man stared at the profiler, his face and eyes registering his complete shock.
"What!? You can't honestly think that I'm doing, doing that!" He burst out angrily gesturing at the crime scene photo.
"It doesn't look good Steve." Gideon explained acting like he would around any potential unsub. "You filed the missing person's report, four weeks later you tell them to stop the investigation, which looks like you're covering your tracks. You grew up with her, dated her, hell you even called me about this case before the BAU ever got it. The coincidences are just piling up too much to be ignored."
"Are you implying that I killed her then ever year afterwards I kill a young woman that looks exactly like her in some kind of sick anniversary ritual?" He asked his voice rising with his anger. Neither Gideon nor Hotchner made a reply; they just sat there watching the increasingly agitated young man.
"Jesus Dad! When she disappeared on me, it was just four weeks before our wedding day, yeah we were engaged," he added in response to the surprise in Gideon's eyes. "The next time I heard from her, was on the day we were suppose to be getting married. She called me to tell me she got cold feet or something, and not to worry or try and find her." He paused to take a breath and try to collect himself. "I had already filed the report so I went down to the station and told them to drop the investigation, out of respect for her wishes not to be found. Then this fucking bullshit started, at first, I shrugged it off as coincidence but now I can't. What the hell was I suppose to do? It's been three years and every June a woman is killed between the time Matilda disappeared and our almost wedding day. Of course, I kept track of it Goddamnit!" He said in answer to the unspoken question in his father's eyes. "I wanted to make sure it wasn't her."
"Hey, watch your mouth young man," Gideon said chastising his son; it was the only thing he could think of after the bombshell Stephan had dropped. Steve stared at him for a moment then shrugged; making a disgruntled face, he turned away from the two FBI agents and stared out the window.
"Steve, I think you need to come with us," Hotch said into the resulting silence. Stephan turned back to look at them, eyes shining with unshed tears and nodded mutely in reply.
