Thank you for reading this! Also thank you, Oottah, for leaving a review! It motivated me to finish chapters 7 and 8 (8 will be posted after I'm done proof-reading). I know nothing about paranoid schizophrenia. Everything I write here comes from Criminal Minds or research on serial killers. Please, if you like the story so far or have advice for me, leave a review!
Chapter 7: Role Play
"All the world's a stage and men and women merely players."
- William Shakespeare
~o~
11 women had been killed in a gruesome manner in DC and Arlington. The UnSub's MO had been very consistent, suggesting obsessive behaviour, his victims had been professionally successful women, suggesting the UnSub had issues with assertive women and female dominance, probably resulting from childhood trauma, although Pippa was not quite ready to accept that as a motivation. There was the possibility that a woman had recently overtaken the UnSub either in a private or professional context, resulting in exaggerated offendedness and a general hatred towards women, especially those that the UnSub perceived as similar to the main object of his hatred.
The team also suspected at least a mild form of paranoid schizophrenia due to the rituality of the murders despite a generally disorganised MO and the possibility of hallucinations or delusions, considering the victimology and signature. The profile was rather thorough and finally, Garcia had presented them a lead on a silver platter: Close to the crime scene, a van had been spotted, belonging to a James Bailiff, whose childhood had been unremarkable, however. Pippa had asked Garcia to look into his more recent past, checking for female superiors or promotions.
And not two minutes later, Penelope called and Pippa put her on speaker. "You, my exquisite young friend, were right," she started and Hotch furrowed his brow in a way only he could. He never liked it when people highlighted Pippa's age. She wasn't that young, after all. Three years younger than Garcia, if he remembered correctly, and still five years older than Reid. There was no room for this here and now though, so Aaon forced his thoughts back onto a more professional track.
"James Bailiff recently got a female boss. Anthea Downing. He has been working for Tyson Real Estate longer than her but her work stats were much better, she made more sales than Bailiff or any other employee in the department, so she was promoted." Garcia sounded triumphant and she had every right to. Once again, she had been instrumental in the identification of their UnSub.
"That's the stressor. He must have perceived that as a slight." Hotch said.
"Look into his private life," Emily suggested. "A guy like that probably has issues with women in all areas."
"Unmarried and no trace of a girlfriend," Penelope said after a brief pause.
"Does he have sisters?" JJ asked and took the words right out of Pippa's mouth. A guy like that, naturally competitive, would regard the successful careers of female siblings as another reason for misogyny.
"An older sister, Helen. Married, two kids, a successful lawyer in greater DC."
"A successful life while James feels like he's on the backburner."
"Bring him in," Hotch said. "Morgan, Prentiss, you go to his house. Look for clues where he might keep Smantha Lloyd. Reid, Rossi, Hale and I will make the arrest. He's currently at work, Garcia?"
"He clocked in this morning and hasn't clocked out since."
Hotch looked at his watch. "It's almost 11. We need to act before he takes his lunch break. Considering his obsession with dominance, it's likely he visits his victim as often as he can and we know that at least five women were murdered after three days."
It was the third day of Samantha Lloyd's captivity. If she wasn't dead already, she'd be very soon.
They found Bailiff in his office cube and while Reid and Hale stayed to analyse his office, Hotch and Rossi drove back to the BAU with the perp.
"There's nothing here," Reid summarised their findings after an hour. "He clearly doesn't identify with his job."
"Why should he? He thinks he deserves better. See, he hasn't worked on a single sale today. Instead, he looked at yachts."
"A symbol of class and success," Reid mused as he looked at the pictures Pippa had found on his computer. "He likes the delusion. He imagines himself on these boats. They are a classic symbol of male success, too. Men are captains, women are guests on board."
"For entertainment," Pippa followed up.
Reid raised both eyebrows in response. He had surely never been on a yacht, Pippa thought with a slight smile. He was decidedly not the type for champagne baths and dances with bikini-clad escorts. She wondered whether Rossi owned a yacht.
"So, back to the BAU?" she asked then and Reid nodded.
"There's nothing here. Morgan and Emily will be more successful at his house," Reid said quite matter-of-factly as they made their way over to the car.
"His home is his castle," she smiled and got behind the steering wheel.
"Sir Edward Coke, who is generally believed to be the greatest jurist of the Elizabethan and Jacobite eras, decreed this in 1604 to protect private property. He said: "The house of every one is to him as his Castle and Fortress as well for defence against injury and violence, as for his repose.' He still allowed sheriffs to search private property if there was reason to believe the homeowner was hiding stolen items on his property."
Pippa maneuvered the car out of the parking space. Those SUVs were much too big.
"Thanks, Reid," she grinned.
"You're welcome," he smiled. "Coke was always a figure of interest for me. He basically lay the foundation for English law. And thereby, he shaped our laws, too."
"That is interesting," she allowed as she tried to merge. The highway was always crowded.
"You just cut that car," Reid said while the driver of said car honked audibly.
"Yep," she said. "He knows." She raised her hand apologetically.
"You are hasty," Reid observed.
"I want to see Bailiff confess."
"The case is personally important for you?" he asked, almost surprised.
"It's never personal. I just want to watch Hotch interrogate him. I don't have much experience in interrogation, as you know. I like to take every chance to learn."
That was something Reid understood well.
"You've done well whenever you had the chance."
She hadn't had a chance all that often, though. Usually, it was Emily or Rossi, sometimes Morgan and if all else failed, Hotch would go in himself. It was not that Pippa didn't think they did a great job, she just wanted to do just as well. And that meant studying them. Hotch was right, after all. She couldn't make a show out of every interrogation. Most perps didn't react all that well to elaborate plays like the one she had done back then, in her first week as a profiler. For most, it was more about negotiation, about deals, about timing. And that was something she had to learn a lot about still.
Unfortunately, she had been a little distracted during the seminar she had taken at the convention. She still blushed whenever she thought about the night with Hotch. It hadn't come up again, at all. He was so professional that sometimes, she almost feared she'd dreamed it. He didn't treat her differently anymore at all.
She felt as a part of the team, now. She got on well with Emily and Reid, she went out with the team, she got drunk with the ladies, she had really done her best to loosen up. Only when they were on a case, she couldn't. She felt distracted too easily, she couldn't afford to look left and right when they were on a case.
With Spencer, it was a little different, though. "Thanks, Spencer." she smiled.
He smiled back and the conversation had reached its end. The silence that followed was entirely comfortable. There was no one else Pippa could be quiet with like this, each dwelling on their thoughts.
Perhaps, Pippa thought, Hotch would allow her to interrogate Bailiff when he was done. A perp like him would respond to a woman much differently. But then again, Emily was a more seasoned interrogator. She would watch her, though. Emily was like a cat in there, all soft and mellow at first, then baring her claws within seconds. It was a very successful strategy.
~o~
They reached the BAU soon enough although they would have been twice as fast had Derek driven the car.
The bullpen was empty, though. Prentiss and Morgan were still dissecting Bailiff's home and Hotch and Rossi were already interrogating the perp.
But then Hotch came through the door that led to the interrogation rooms.
"Is Prentiss here?" he asked them, although it was rather evident she wasn't.
"She's still at Bailiff's house."
Hotch gave Pippa a measuring look. "I need someone to play along. An assertive woman."
This was her lucky day. And hadn't he called her assertive when they had first met? Had he remembered that, too? Was that why he was giving her a chance now?
"I can do that," she said and walked up the stairs to the gallery where Hotch stood. Reid followed her.
"Ok, come along. I'll go in first, you can come in in five minutes." Hotch was already through the door again and Pippa hurried after him, down the long corridor, with Reid on her heels.
"I might have to be insubordinate, sir," she said carefully.
"Oh, I expect you to," he smiled and her stomach fluttered.
Had he just been flirting with her? Stop imagining things. She had gotten used to his subtle sense of humour, especially at work. People said Aaron Hotchner never smiled but they weren't watching him as closely as she was. Better that way, too. He didn't really need more than one stalker. The truth was that, although he was the most professional, most straight-laced, most serious person she'd ever met, he was rarely deadly serious. The hint of a smile often stole onto his face. Sometimes it was Garcia who caused it, often Reid.
And he wasn't as strict as it was generally said. Yes, his morals were inflexible and he was devoted to following his moral compass but when his morals were at conflict with FBI guidelines, usually, his morals won. It happened only very rarely, of course. But whenever politics influenced the director or section chief's judgement, he would follow his own mind, always ready to deal with the consequences.
Pippa had come to admire him for this. It was a difficult call to make and it took a lot of confidence and life experience. Something she didn't have yet. Following rules was much easier. Now, however, she would have to follow her instincts for once. She wasn't sure she still had any.
From the adjoining room, Pippa watched Hotch talk to the UnSub.
Then, five minutes were over. "Good luck," Reid smiled. He didn't seem impatient to interrogate the perp. For a brief moment, Pippa remembered that Reid's mother had been diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, too. Then, she had to focus.
"Hotchner," she greeted him curtly as she entered, then turned to the UnSub: "Where is Samantha Lloyd, James?"
"I don't know her."
"Oh, I know you do, James. You know why? Because you are an idiot. We have you and your car on tape, you fool. You couldn't even do that right, huh? Samantha is a tough woman, no doubt you needed to drug her to be able to abduct her. Because you're just not strong enough, James. All these women, you killed them but you never truly dominated them. Because they never really feared you. You know that, right? You're so weak, it's despicable. Your mother knew it, didn't she? Your mother always knew what a weak little boy she had. ANSWER ME!" Pippa shouted those last words and James Bailiff flinched.
"I'm not weak," he screamed.
"Yes, you are. Tell me where Samantha is, James. And maybe we'll let you pick a nice prison, one in which knife attacks aren't all that frequent- You know you wouldn't last a week."
"Agent Hale, you are in no position to make –" Hotch started but Pippa only gave him a condescending look.
"You better back down, Hotchner. You've been in here for what, ten minutes? You have nothing to show for it." Pippa said disparagingly, sparing Hotch only a fleeting glance before turning back to Bailiff.
"Hale, I am your superior agent –" Hotch objected, his voice weak and thin.
Pippa laughed. "Superior? In what way, I wonder? No offense, Hotchner, but you've messed up big time. Let me take it from here. I don't want to tell the section chief about your lack of leadership qualities but if you insist on putting on the strongman act, I really have to let her know."
"Agent Hale," Hotch started again, using her title, but then JJ came in. "Agent Hale, there's something you should see," she said, not minding Hotch at all.
Pippa left the interrogation room and watched through the two-way mirror.
"It's like being a mouse at my own table," Hotch said. "They're everywhere. They just promoted one of them to section chief. My superior agent. After I've worked here for ten years. I just can't get a look-in. I know if I had some time, if they just stopped for once, I could do this. But you've seen her. She's my subordinate. Did it feel like that to you?" Hotch rubbed his eyes. He would have been great on the stage.
Hotch shook his head with a dramatic sigh, then he squared his broad shoulders.
"You know what? we'll make that deal. But you and I will make it. She's not gonna be in the protocol. Just tell me where Samantha Lloyd is and you'll go to a prison of your choice."
"I don't know –"
"Don't you see what they're doing?" Hotch asked, exasperated. "They're winning. They're defeating both of us. Man, all I'm asking is that you give me a chance. Or she'll get all the credit. You are screwed anyway. We have you on tape. You'll be inside anyway, why not do us both a favour?"
Hotch looked at the mirror, only briefly, but Pippa understood. He wanted her to come in again, to finish him off.
"Hotchner, back down," she said as she entered. "This is more than you can take on."
"James," she addressed the UnSub. "You'll tell me where Samantha Lloyd is, and now. I'm done with your lies and your nonsense." She raised her voice to a shrill nagging, "You have played your games with Hotchner here but you can't fool me. If we find Lloyd dead, I will personally suggest you for death row. I will give testimony against you myself. You'll see me again and again and again until they strap you down on that chair and even then I'll be there."
Bailiff was on edge. A vein at his temple was pulsing, his knuckles were white, his fists tightly clenched. This would be a cakewalk for Hotch.
JJ came in. "I'm sorry, Agent Hale. There's a call for you again. I told them you're busy but they wouldn't talk to Morgan."
"I'll be back in five, James. Don't get comfortable." Pippa left again.
"Help me out, man." Hotch was just saying when Pippa entered the adjoining room. "I'll make a deal with you. Prison of your choice. But just don't let her win again. Tell me where Samantha is. Or help me God, they'll undermine me completely."
Hotch was an impressive interrogator. Antagonising women, making a bogeyman out of her, showing the perp how similar they were, creating a sense of unity. She knew he would be successful.
Bailiff looked down at the table, then at Hotch. "She's in a storage unit. 15c. Off Brayton Road. She's alive. But I want that deal."
Hotch looked at him coolly. "Eleven homicides. You won't get to enjoy the prison of your choice for very long but yes, the deal is still on. Hale, Reid, you come with me," he said through the glass. "JJ, the deal. Sign it in my name."
And James Bailiff could only stare at Hotch as he left the interrogation room his usual assertive self. JJ, a woman, would sign the deal for him. His final defeat.
"Good job, Hale," Hotch said on the way to the car.
"Pleasure, sir," she replied with a smile. It had been.
"I bet it was." There it was again, the hint of a smile creeping up slowly.
"You were a great team," Reid said as he climbed into the backseat, of course oblivious to the tension between them. The tension Pippa felt, at least.
"I agree," Hotch said as he started the car and drove out of the garage.
"You should do that more often. You really understand each other without words," Reid pressed on. And the penny dropped. He was trying to help her. Reid, in one of his rare empathic moments, had understood that Pippa wanted to try her hand at interrogation more often. And now, he was trying to show Hotch the advantages. In a rational manner. And while she could have hugged him for the thought, his comments made them both deeply uncomfortable. Reid couldn't know that, of course.
"Hopefully, Lloyd is still alive," Pippa said in an absolutely obvious attempt to change the topic. And Hotch jumped at the chance.
"If he followed the pattern, she is. Though she doesn't have much time. She'll be dehydrated."
"An average human being can live without water for approximately three days. That of course depends on weight, age and general health among other factors. Samantha is a very healthy young woman, smaller and lighter than an average human. The chance that she is still alive is around 98%, given the circumstances of her abduction, right after a healthy dinner, before she could get dehydrated on a run. Unbeknownst to Bailiff, he's done her a favour." If Spencer was surprised they had let him finish his little sermon, he didn't show it.
Pippa thought she felt Hotch's gaze on her but when she turned her head ever so slightly, his eyes were on the road. Naturally. He was a cautious driver.
They did find Samantha Lloyd in the storage unit, bound up, gagged and drugged, but alive and the paramedic assured them that her physical wounds would heal. No one could recover from what she had been through, though. The emotional scars would remain, changing her forever. A little flame of hatred flickered inside her but Pippa subdued the feeling. There was no room for emotions on the job. Samantha was free. She would be able to identify Bailiff who, in his arrogance and feeling of invincibility, had not worn a mask.
"Good job," Hotch had walked over to her. "We found her just in time."
"Yes."
"Maybe Reid is right," Hotch added, in a quiet voice.
He didn't need to say more than that to make her feel weak in the knees.
"Whenever you need me to run you down, sir, I'm here for you," she joked.
"Next time, perhaps we have a chance to switch roles," he said, with an almost mean grin.
"I better wrap myself up well, then," she gave back.
Pippa was certain she only imagined the once-over he gave her.
"That's unnecessary." His voice was a halftone lower now and she could have sworn his pupils were dilated.
She felt the inexplicable desire to pull down her dress a little to give him a better look. Get your head out of the gutter. That was surely not what he had meant. Or, had he?
Perhaps their unprofessional history did have its perks, Hotch thought. For the job, of course. Reid was right: They had worked great together. He didn't have to explain anything to her. She understood what he wanted. Perhaps a little too well for comfort.
He had gotten carried away. He had attempted flirting. She probably hadn't noticed, he really wasn't very skilled, and that had saved him. Hotch couldn't afford risking their professional relationship, especially not now that she was a true member of the team. The family. And while sometimes, he still felt wistful, while sometimes, he still mused over what could have been had she been ready to give it a try, he saw now that she had been much wiser than him. And for now, he was content with what they had. Fine, perhaps not, but he was okay with it and that was more than he had thought a month ago.