Author's notes:
- Fort Knox is a highly secure U.S. Army base in Kentucky which houses the United States Bullion Depository.
- Information on wrongful convictions comes from the US National Registry of Exonerations. According to their most recent report in Apr. 2013, New York ranked fourth among states between 1989 - 2013 with 107 exonerations. They were behind only California (125), Texas (117) and Illinois (114). The next state after it, Michigan, had only 41.
- The Biblical quote in full is John 8:32: "Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free."
There are few places in New York where one can go for complete and absolute peace. The sheer size of the city, with eight million people living in the metropolitan area alone, makes it incredibly difficult to find a spot to reflect quietly. Unless you have the privilege of going into your own home, there's not really a whole lot you can do to get away from the hustle and bustle of lunch hour in the largest city in North America.
Not long after Scott Jackson's interrogation, Emily had upped and walked out of the precinct. She kept walking, not really keeping track of where she was going. Only that she had to get as far away from there as possible. She was sure that if she'd stayed there much longer, someone would knock on a bathroom stall asking her if she was alright and be treated to the pleasant sound of her upchucking what little breakfast she'd eaten.
So she walked.
And walked.
And then walked some more.
Block after block after block.
If Emily was being truthful, she didn't know what it was she truly felt – disgust with herself for watching without saying anything, anger at Scott that he didn't defend himself better, relief that her secret had not been revealed, or frustration at the whole situation. The latter emotion she had certainly felt enough of during her conversation with Hotch when she managed to get him alone a few minutes after the questioning had ended.
Flashback…
"What do you mean he fits the profile? As far as I can remember, we haven't even finalized one yet!"
Hotch's eyes were weary, possibly from fatigue at having just conducted a tense interrogation on such a serious set of crimes, and didn't look eager on having another disagreement with the black-haired woman. "If the physical evidence is there and there are enough behavioral patterns that suggest the person is guilty, we have to look into it. We can't wait around for the UnSub to strike again just to deliver a final profile to the local authorities. If we have a lead, we need to take it."
Emily felt like tearing out her hair. "Hotch, you talk about the physical evidence, but there is no real evidence! We figured this UnSub is taking things that mean something to their victims, right? He castrated Ramos, ripped out Bridget Silver's tongue and kept her bra, and stole Chris and Suzy's driver's licenses. The forensics unit found no evidence of any of those things or any crime or cleanup attempt at Jackson's apartment. You were there when Brighton got the call about it."
"If this UnSub is torturing and killing his victims, then it's very likely he'd have a spot to do that without fear of being heard," Hotch replied coolly. "We talked to some of the residents of the building; the walls are thin enough to hear people having a conversation in the next unit. If Jackson is the UnSub and he abducted Kim Seo-yeon, he's not stupid enough to keep her in a place where people could hear her calling for help."
"But there's nothing that says he's the UnSub!" It was the closest thing she could muster without coming out and saying that she knew Scott was innocent and have to explain how she knew it.
"One," Hotch started, "he was captured on surveillance camera walking towards the scene of the crime -"
"Dressed in workout clothes and carrying a gym bag. If he abducted Seo-yeon, how would he transport her? He doesn't have a car and I doubt he thought he could just carry her by himself without any risk of being seen."
"Unless the place was a short distance away. We're looking into that as well. Two, he had a heated argument over the phone with Suzy hours before she and Chris were killed. Three, he lied about his alibi last night at their TOD, then provided another one that can in almost no way be verified."
Which is not too far off from the truth, Emily thought.
"Four, he was among the most nervous people we've ever questioned."
"As I'm sure plenty of people would be if they were stuck in a room, denied a lawyer, were accused of horrific crimes and started hearing words like 'prison' and 'death penalty,'" she shot back. "I sometimes wonder just how many people are convicted of crimes they didn't commit just because they acted a certain way when under pressure."
"And five," the prosecutor finished, "he has the education for creating explosives like the ones used in the bombings."
"Two years of college. That's barely anything. Garcia's been all over his phone records and hasn't found anyone he's talked to that raises an alarm bell. You don't just suddenly acquire knowledge for that, Hotch. You have to learn it, be taught it. And as far as we can tell he hasn't been in contact with anyone long enough to learn it. We're taking a stab in the dark here; he barely fits the minimal profile we have and there is no physical evidence linking him to the murders, the bombings or the abduction. There's no reason to hold him." She gave her boss a hard look. "Unless you're hoping he breaks under the threat of capital punishment and confesses. If that's true, then I wasn't aware that was the kind of unit we're running now."
"Prentiss, I'm not saying for certain he's one of the UnSubs, but anyone who lies that much needs to be looked at closely."
"Brighton is running around in circles," she argued. "He has no idea the kind of people he's dealing with and he's screwing around treating this like a typical homicide case where you can just frighten the most likely suspect into confessing. I'm pretty sure if he hadn't gone off on Jackson the way he did with the crime scene photos, the interrogation wouldn't have gone the way it did."
Hotch's eyes narrowed and he took a step closer into her personal space. "Our job is to work alongside local law enforcement without interfering with their jurisdiction. How they decide to handle their affairs is their responsibility, even if we disagree with it. Rogue operations are not something we practice on a daily basis."
The hidden meaning behind his words was not lost on Emily. Clenching her jaw and forcing herself not to spit out the first response that came into her mind, she said, "There is nothing rogue about trying to find the truth, Hotch. You want my opinion as a fellow profiler? Well here it is: Scott Jackson is NOT the UnSub. I don't believe he's guilty of anything except being a cocky, arrogant young man who panicked when put in an interrogation room and accused of being a terrorist and sexual predator."
"Duly noted. In the meantime, our primary response is finding Kim Seo-yeon. Jackson is a suspect in her disappearance unless and until the evidence proves otherwise."
Emily took a deep breath, lest she execute her boss out of sheer frustration. The last time she checked, all people in this country were innocent until proven guilty - except, she supposed, when you followed a federal agent up to her room instead of getting your ass onto a bus right where a video camera could see you. Then you were a murderer, a kidnapper and a terrorist, all because you let your junk do your thinking for you instead of your brain. What a damn mess.
"And so he stays locked up like a common criminal?" she asked. "Oh, except, I forgot: criminals get lawyers. People suspected of terrorism are less than human, so they don't get that right."
Hotch eyed her suspiciously. "You're talking as though you've known him for years. Is there something you're not telling me?"
Yes Hotch, there is. It's that I know the reason he's innocent is because he was in my room at the time of the murders and the abduction. And if the walls in that motel weren't as thick as the walls at Fort Knox, you would know it too.
Emily bit her tongue. "No, nothing."
Hotch looked at her suspiciously for another moment. Apparently deciding that she was telling the truth, which told her how good an actor she truly was, he nodded. "Fine."
She let out a deep breath. "I'm gonna go… get some air. I think my headache's coming back."
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"Yeah," she responded, turning on her heel. "Perfect."
End flashback…
It was no wonder she had done so well undercover in previous years, she thought. If Jackson had half of her ability to tell a convincing lie, he might still be a free man. But he didn't, and he wasn't. And part of that was her fault.
Finally stopping at a bench at a small park, she sat down heavily. It was then, removed from the atmosphere that she almost drowned in, that she was able to realize what the implications were in this case.
Jackson had proven himself a liar during interrogation, effectively setting him up as someone whose word was not to be trusted in the eyes of the authorities. The circumstantial evidence against him, whether or not she knew it was ultimately meaningless, was notable, his weak attempts at a false alibi torn to shreds. His apparent lack of knowledge of his rights had caused him to walk right into the jaws of the lion, and the only person who could prove that he was innocent was running away from him.
Emily knew that, however she looked at the situation, she was – to put it mildly – effectively screwed. If she told the truth about the previous night, she would be finished professionally. For an agent to fraternize with someone involved in a federal investigation went against every rule and regulation in the book. If she admitted to what she did, she would be fired, stricken from the FBI's record and considered, in essence, a traitor to the Bureau. After all the hard work she'd done to land the job on her own, amid all the criticism and suspicion of 'the ambassador's daughter,' she'd be lucky if she could find work as a secretary at any government building on U.S. soil.
On the other hand, if she continued to lie and remain silent, Scott Jackson could be sent to prison for crimes he didn't commit. That was something she couldn't allow; as arrogant and aggravating as he could be, he didn't deserve that. And as much as Brighton pissed her off, he was right about one thing: in prison, people accused of the kinds of crimes Scott was accused of were despised. Sarcasm and fast-talking wouldn't do him much good in a facility with real rapists and murderers where someone could get killed in the middle of a room surrounded by hundreds of people and yet curiously no one "saw" anything.
Yep, she was pretty much screwed. But what was she to do? Say nothing and hope Scott would be cleared in due process? She watched as a group of teenage girls walked by, chatting excitedly, laughing without a care in the world. It reminded her of the other innocent party in this whole sorry mess. While she sat here agonizing about choosing between her life and that of a man who'd driven her to the brink of insanity a few days ago, Kim Seo-yeon was still in the hands of the real UnSub. If her hunch was right, he would want to keep her alive for as long as possible, but how long would that be? And how much would he hurt her in the meantime? By the time everything got sorted out, she could long be dead and forgotten to all but those who knew her. And besides, what guarantee was there that Scott would be cleared? New York State had one of the highest wrongful conviction rates in the country. Who's to say he wouldn't be just another statistic?
The truth will set you free. Emily snorted. Whoever had written that verse in the Bible, whether God or man, clearly hadn't foreseen circumstances like this.
She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she didn't notice the figure walking towards her and standing beside her until they spoke. "Do you mind if I sit down?"
Emily jumped, her heart in her mouth, until she saw the surprised face of the short older woman with white hair, thick glasses and a green coat. "Huh? Oh…yes, of course." She moved over to make room.
"Thank you so much, dear." As the woman sat down, she gave Emily a warm smile. "I apologize if I startled you. You seemed deep in thought."
"It's nothing, really." Emily chuckled. "Actually, I probably should be apologizing to you. I must have scared you with my reaction."
This time it was the woman who chuckled. "That's quiet alright. I've seen enough things over my long life that it takes more than that to frighten me. But where on Earth are my manners? My name's Mary."
She extended her hand, which Emily shook. "Emily."
"Emily. That's a nice name. My mother's name was Emily."
The dark-haired woman nodded politely and stared straight. "I hope you don't think I'm rude," she started, "but if you're looking for someone to share joy with, I doubt you'll find much with me."
Mary raised an eyebrow. "So it's not really 'nothing' that's bothering you."
"It's…" Emily folded her hands. "It's complicated."
"Perhaps I can help. They say that talking about what's bothering you is very good for the soul. Speaking from experience – and believe, I have plenty – I can say that is almost always true."
Emily gave the woman another polite smile. "Thank you. I appreciate the offer. But I don't think it's going to help. Besides I don't want to burden you with my problems."
"It wouldn't be the first time today someone's thought that."
"Trust me; you don't want to hear what's on my mind."
Mary nodded. "As you wish, my dear."
The two women sat in silence for a moment. Across the park, Emily watched a young couple walk down the path holding hands. A sudden inexplicable feeling of envy suddenly bubbled up inside her. Combined with all the other emotion she was feeling, it may as well have been another five hundred pound bag of rocks on her back. She bit her lip and looked away.
"Such a nice sight, don't you think?" Her companion was saying.
"I'm sorry?"
"Young love. The coming together of two people who share a mutual attraction. It's a lovely sight, isn't it?"
Emily's hands gripped tightly together. "Yes," she said tensely. "Yes, it is."
"Do you have someone in your life like that, dear?"
"I'm afraid not."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Everyone is deserving of a mate, a lifelong companion. I've always believed that a healthy relationship is the key to a healthy life – even if one doesn't recognize it at first."
Perhaps it was the way that last part was phrased, as if the woman were directing it directly at her, that caught Emily's attention. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.
Mary merely smiled. "The words of an old woman. A desire to see the world in a better light in my later years. I don't suppose you're interested in hearing the wisdom of an old lady."
"No," Emily said sharply. "I'm sorry to be so blunt, but right now I'm not interested in hearing any wisdom. Wisdom doesn't do much good to solve an issue."
She thought she might have offended the woman enough to make her leave, but Mary remained seated, looking at her interestedly. "You're a federal agent."
The sentence was so unexpected and said so casually – as a statement, not as a question – that it caught Emily completely off guard. "I- I'm sorry?" she sputtered.
"You do work with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, don't you?"
"I – how…?"
"How do I know?" Mary gave a knowing smile. "Wisdom, my dear. Wisdom and experience."
Emily took a deep breath. "I have no idea how that could work, but it did work." She pulled out her badge and showed it as proof.
"And you're investigating those explosions that have been happening lately? The police are saying it might be terrorism."
"We're still trying to figure out exactly what's going on." Especially with my head. "Until then, we're not attaching a label to it."
"I understand. Though I should say that the media certainly makes it out to be. And I also must admit…" Emily looked at her as she paused. "Wisdom didn't play too big a role in knowing who you worked for. At least not as much as the television cameras from the last bombing scene."
Emily let out a groan and rubbed her temples. "I swear, the next time I see them, I'm going to break those godda-" She halted mid-sentence when she noticed the tiny golden cross hanging around her companion's neck. "Um, I mean those gosh darn cameras."
Mary smiled sympathetically but it quickly disappeared. "Truth be told, Emily – may I still call you Emily? – I have a vested interest in this case. A young man I know is in trouble in it."
That makes two of us. "What do you mean?"
"A neighbour of mine, a very nice young man, was visited by two men who identified themselves as FBI agents a couple of hours ago. When he didn't return quickly, I made some inquiries. I couldn't get specifics but they made it clear he was a person of interest in their investigation."
Emily could feel her heartbeat pick up. "What was his name?"
"Scott Jackson."
If she hadn't been sitting down, Emily was sure her legs would have gone out from under her. As her heart rate multiplied by about a hundred, she quickly ran through the list of names of tenants they'd compiled that lived in the same building as Scott. As far as she could tell, there was only one person with the same first name; an elderly widow who lived next door named Mary Wraith.
"Yes indeed," Mary was saying. "And if you ask me, it is absolute balderdash. I've known Mr. Jackson for several years and the last thing he would do is hurt innocent people. You can rest assured I gave the authorities a piece of my mind; at my age you speak it without fear of embarrassment. I told them there was no way he could be involved in this and if they needed a character witness for him, they could call me – Mary Wraith - any day at any time. That young man deserves someone to stand in his corner."
Struggling to maintain a neutral façade, Emily replied, "Mrs. Wraith -"
"Just Mary please, my dear."
"Mary, I can't talk about any specifics of the case but I can assure you we don't charge anyone we believe is innocent."
"Do you believe he's innocent?"
"We're following the evidence -"
"No." Mary shook her head. "That's not what I meant. I didn't ask about what the FBI thought. I asked what you thought. You, as an individual, my dear."
Emily stared at the old woman for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts. If she didn't know better, she would have said Mary Wraith knew something. But that was impossible. There was no way she could know anything specific… could she?
"I… if I believe someone is guilty, I'll say so and if I believe they're innocent, I'll say so." And look how much good that did.
Mary pursed her lips and folded her hands. "What if you didn't believe someone is guilty?"
"I just said I -"
"What if you knew they were innocent?"
Emily's mouth went dry as a bone. She licked her lips to moisten them, failed. "I don't understand what you mean."
"I believe you do, dear. And I think you know, deep in your heart, what will happen if you don't acknowledge it." The older woman's eyes were not harsh; nonetheless, Emily couldn't help but shrink back at her unblinking stare. "Are you really going to allow a man to go to jail when you know very well he couldn't have committed any crime? Or was that kiss you gave him two days ago merely a moment of meaningless lust?"
Emily felt as if her chest had just exploded. Panic and fear flooded through her, her heart feeling like it was going to jump out of her body. Mrs. Wraith knew! Her secret that she thought rested solely on the silence of two people –her and Scott - now involved an outsider! And what if there were more? Hotch had said the walls in Scott's apartment complex were thin enough to barely mask any sound. What if the entire floor had seen or heard what had happened? How long would it be before someone talked and word got back to the BAU or NYPD?
"Ma'am, I'm not sure what you thought you saw, but I can assure you you're wrong. I have never kissed Scott Jackson." It took all the acting skill Emily had to make herself sound at least partly convincing.
"And young lady, I can assure you I saw what I saw. I am not yet completely blind and I have always had a penchant for recognizing faces," Mary said reproachfully. "Besides, I had this same conversation earlier today with Scott. He denied it at first as well. You two are, in many ways, very similar, especially with your stubbornness and desire to protect the secrets of the other."
"What are you saying?"
"My dear, if Scott has not proven that he is innocent of the crimes of which he's accused, there are only two possible explanations: he is either guilty – and I have already given you my thoughts on that – or he is protecting someone else." She focused her eyes on Emily's. "Someone who would be in a very bad position should the truth come out, who could possibly lose her job for acting on her feelings. And it just so happens that occurred on the same night that he needed to account for his actions. Scott doesn't have an alibi for last night because he was with you."
"How…" Words failed the FBI agent. She found herself merely staring back into the eyes of the old woman.
"Scott told me everything that happened last night. Or at least enough that I could figure out what had happened. He didn't spend the night with you because of the thrill of it, Emily Prentiss; he did it because he'd found a woman that was worth spending the night with. You know how many times his last girlfriend spent the entire night with him? It wasn't even half the time; believe me, I know. So when a man chooses to protect a woman's reputation even after she told him to never come see her again, I'd say that says something about that man, don't you?"
Emily was shocked. In fact, if she were any more shocked than she was right now, she was sure her jaw would've hit the ground. Her first thoughts were that Scott had betrayed her secret, but now it was far more complicated than that. The whole time in Observation listening to the interrogation, she'd assumed his feeble attempts at an alibi were exclusively to try to save his own ass while she was just an afterthought. But now… could it be true? No, it couldn't - unless...
He'd been actively trying to keep her involvement a secret – for her?
"So now the dilemma once again rears its head," Mary said. "To save a man's life, you must risk your own safety. But this time, it would not be merely as part of your duty. It could very possibly mean the end of everything you've worked so hard to achieve. So the question is, Agent Prentiss, are you willing to make that decision?"
"I…" Emily fumbled nervously. "I don't know."
Mary pursed her lips again. "I see."
Something about those two short words sparked something in Emily; she felt a sudden surge of anger. "You see?" she snapped. "See what? See the answer so clearly? See what absolutely must be done? The answer to you is straightforward, isn't it? In your mind, there's only one solution and it all rests on me."
She wheeled to face the woman directly. "Well let me tell you, it's not as clear cut as you make it out to be! Not half! You think for one second I don't know what the consequences are? You think I don't know what could happen if I do something – or don't do it? This is something you know nothing about! I didn't ask for your help nor did I ever want it! You sit here and say you're offering wisdom? Bullshit! All I see is a foolish old woman sticking her nose somewhere where it doesn't belong! You think it's easy for me? I've put more thought into this than you can possibly imagine! So don't you sit here and tell me you see about what I ought to do!"
She expected Mary Wraith to slap her across the face, or at least yell right back at her. But the white-haired woman did neither of those things. Staring at the FBI agent intently, she was silent for a moment and then stood up.
"Very well. I will not tell you what to do. I would have liked to think you already knew what that was before you and I even met. However, that is of little importance. You want me to leave you alone, I will; I can do more for Scott that way anyway. I will, however, leave you with this to think about.
"Scott told me without a moment's hesitation that the woman he spent the night with last night was worth it. He lied to police and implicated himself in a series of horrific crimes, knowing full well what that could mean for him. And while he sits in the no doubt dreadful conditions of New York's correctional facilities, the woman he spoke of sits out here enjoying the clean air and delicious taste of freedom all while thinking about whether his life is worth saving. The real question is - did he ever know the real woman?"
With those words, Mary Wraith departed, leaving a seething Emily sitting alone.
TBC…