When we come back inside Wendy grabs Ford, sticking him with Warren Freeman, no relation that I'm aware of, before grabbing me and running away. Tench tells the men our story about Manson and him 'stealing' Ford's sunglasses. By the time Ford comes into the conversation Tench excuses himself, and if it wasn't for me, I'm sure he would have made a fool out of himself. I love Ford but he is too literally when it comes to conversations about our work. We end up leaving the party early, luckily no one notices the new ring on my fingers. The ring Ford had gotten me is nothing flashy, but it is perfect.

Even though we leave early, it is still rather late by the time we get home. I sigh as I throw myself onto the bed, Ford chuckles as he puts his jacket on the back of a chair, "don't you wanna get changed first?"

I shake my head, "too tired."

Ford laughs again, "what if I get you some pjs? Then will you change?"

"We'll see." I smirk and sit up, before Ford gives me a kiss.

Ford smiles before nodding and walking over to the desker, I look down and admire my ring, when the phone rings. Ford looks over to me before walking to his side of the bed to answer it, "Holden." Ford nods and looks over to me, "Jim. Tell me. How old? Thanks." Ford sighs and looks over to me, "another boy, strangulation. Twelve years old, uh… Clifford Jones. He was collecting cans for change so his aunt could do laundry. Broad daylight."

I shake my head, "he's number 13."

The next morning, Smith had found a killer he thinks we should talk to, Paul Bateson, and is giving us a briefing, "The bodies were dismembered, stuffed in trash bags, and spent between two and six weeks in the Hudson River. None of the six victims was ever identified. Cause of death never determined. Police were able to trace, uh, the articles of clothing to a fetish shop on Christopher Street that catered to the leather community."

Ford picks up a photo in the file, "and there's a lambda tattoo."

"Maybe he was a Greek scholar." Tench shrugs and chuckles.

"Paul Bateson frequented the gay bars in the Meatpacking District," Smith shakes his head, "but the police could never connect him to the bodies. He was only convicted for one murder because he called a journalist and confessed to it. The final victim, Addison Verrill."

I shake my head, "she wasn't dismembered and stuffed in a bag, so how do we know he even committed the other murders?"

"Because he told a friend he was the Bag Murderer. And that he liked to kill."

"Isn't someone who practices S and M already equating arousal with violence?" Ford closes his file, "he's just a step…"

"S/M." Smith corrects, "the correct terminology is S/M. Sadomasochism. Not sado and masochism."

I chuckle, "looks like you have some knowledge and this Gregg." Smith looks over to me a bit confused, I shake my head, "S/M is primarily the exchange of power between a dominant and a submissive. Pain and violence are just two types of currency within that exchange. There's also humiliation, fear, sometimes even tickling."

Tench lifts his head, "tickled to death? Whole new meaning."

Ford takes a deep breath, "The fact that one of the victims wore a dog collar makes me think our guy likes to be in charge."

"Well," Carr shrugs, "due to the condition of the bodies, we have no evidence of how he killed or whether S/M was even one of his MOs."

"Who else would prey on guys like these?" Tench looks back to Carr. "They were into the same stuff, and he gets off on going too far."

"Well, this isn't just a case of someone who occasionally crossed the line of consent. This is a practiced, organized killer. Dismembering and disposing of the bodies without witnesses? I mean, that takes planning and commitment."

"After the fact." I shake my head, "not during. It is possible that this is a case of crossing the line of consent. I mean, the textbook definition of crazy is trying the same thing over and over, expecting a different result."

Smith shrugs, "there's no denying his victim pool is specific to what gives him sexual pleasure."

"But they're also low-hanging fruit for him." Carr shakes her head.

Tench chuckles, "I'll say."

"He's accepted in their environment, and he knows how to lure them."

Ford shrugs, "they actually want to be tied up."

"So you're saying his victims selection is about opportunity." Tench looks between Carr and Smith.

"I'm just saying that it would be interesting to find out how essential his sexaul practices were to how he killed. And why. You know, was sadomastands up, looking out the window of the conferensochism…" Carr pauses for a moment as Ford ce room. "just a convenient way for Bateson to find his victims, or was it fundamental to his…"

"That's Atlanta." Ford cuts Carr off as he grabs the remote for the television in the conference room, turning it on and to the news, "It's the police commissioner."

As Ford turns on the television everyone's attention turns to it, "As Jackson said, we would like to applaud the decision made by the Department of Justice to open an FBI investigation into Atlanta's missing and murdered children. Director Webster has assured me that the bureau will coordinate with our own task force and make their abundant resources available to our city."

I scoff, "now he wants our help." I shake my head, "unbelievable."

Ford nods and looks over to me, "we need to go talk to Ted."

"Agreed," I nod, standing

Tench stands with me,"uh… you two can finish up without us if you'd like."

We almost run up to Gunn's office. When we get there he is on the phone, which is on speaker, "We've already been to Atlanta once. We've done the background work."

A man on the phone replies, "the vice president's placing the highest priority on this. I don't want us to look like we're running a research project down there."

We stop outside the slightly open door and Gunn motions for us to come in, "Absolutely not. We're there to get convictions."

"All right, Ted. I'll call Wyman, tell him we're sending the BSU instead of that third canine unit he wants. They better be house-trained."

"And on a short leash. You have my word."

Tench points to the phone as Gunn hangs up, "that was…"

"Director Webster." Gunn nods, "The president doesn't want child murder lingering over his first 100 days, so he's throwing George Bush at this. The director wants to be sure the bureau comes out smelling good to this administration."

"And it came down to us or Lassie."

"Essentially. Holden, I'd like you and Nancy there as soon as possible. Bill, you can fly out Monday, right after the directors' retreat. Webster's going out on a limb. He needs to understand who we are, have assurance in what we can do."

"Yes, sir."

"We're budgeted through the end, so pack accordingly."

I shake my head, "they're following 17 cases, that could be a while."

"If Webster's involved, he's going for closure. We want to be part of that. Go do what you do, but as we've learned, our methods are not always gonna be received with unbridled enthusiasm, so…"

"Play nice."

"Play Smart." We start to leave as Gunn calls out, "And Nancy." I turn to him as the boys stop, "that doesn't mean you can't put people in their place… When needed, of course."

"Of course, sir." I nod. We head down to the offices and pack up files on the cases and anything else that might be relieved. Then Ford and I head back to the apartment, packing a couple of suitcases each, will Ford two, me three. Before heading to the airport to head down and get started. I only hope people are willing to listen this time.