A/N: I don't own any of the Criminal Minds characters, plot, etc. all belong to CBS
"It's really easy to fall into the trap of believing that what we do is more important than what we are. Of course, it's the opposite that's true: what we are ultimately determines what we do." Fred Rogers
Hotch POV
Jack and I are driving back from a lovely weekend fishing with Rossi at his mountain cabin. The last weekend in June was beautiful, warm and sunny without the oppressive heat and humidity that typically comes in July and August. We picked a great weekend to get away and enjoy nature. I'm grateful to have a good friend like Dave to help me teach Jack all the things a boy needs to learn from his dad. As the sun sets behind us, I can see Jack is fighting sleep while he sits in the second row seat directly behind me, moving his arms to mimic steering and making engine noises to entertain himself. Jack did well fishing, he even caught two small-mouth bass, I really should take more time out of my busy schedule to do these sort of fatherly bonding activities with him. He wouldn't stop chattering the whole weekend, enjoying the time away with Rossi and I. "Uncle Davy" seemed to enjoy the time as well and I wonder if he ever regrets not having children of his own.
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I return my focus to the highway and driving safely. I must admit, my new SUV does do well on the muddy mountain roads and is still fun to drive on the highways. Best of both worlds, just as I wanted when I purchased it this spring. There is surprisingly little traffic on the highway and I can cruise along quickly without much trouble.
I finally pull into the garage and carefully ease Jack out of his booster seat and carry him up to his room. He did manage to drift off to sleep shortly before we returned home and I would hate to wake him up just to get him into bed, he always struggles and fights going to bed, I don't know where he got that stubborn streak from, insisting everything go his way. I gently lay him on his bed, removing his vest and muddy shoes carefully before I tuck him in. The rest can wait until morning. Bending over him, I place a soft kiss on his forehead, and whisper "sweet dreams, Jack" before I leave to bring our belongings into the house.
I quickly shower and put the mountain of dirty clothes into the washing machine before I head to bed myself, exhausted from the busy day, and being perfectly honest, long drives always leave me fatigued.
Too soon my alarm wakes me, and I head downstairs to prepare breakfast for Jack and myself as well as the lunch he will take to the babysitters. Once breakfast is ready, I head upstairs to wake Jack, I pause outside his bedroom door to listen. I hear him talking, narrating some story to himself. Smiling, I push open the door quietly, to not disturb him. I witness my son with 3 of his action figures standing in a line, the smallest in the center, all appear to be "fishing" for his dirty socks. The smallest action figure "catches" one and my son laughs gleefully, ecstatic just as he was when he caught the fish himself. I chuckle and step into the room.
"Good morning, Jack! I see you caught us some fish for breakfast," I say, walking over to him and sit next to him.
"No, Daddy, you don't eat bass fishes for breakfast!" Jack states, matter-of-factly, giving me a Look as if to say 'Dad, are you crazy, everyone knows fish isn't an appropriate breakfast food' or maybe 'Dad, clearly these are socks, I was playing pretend'.
"Oh, well, that's okay Jack. I made pancakes and bacon. Lets go downstairs to eat while its still warm!" I encourage, smiling broadly.
Jack leaps up, abandoning his toys on the floor and rushes down to the dining room table. I follow him somewhat more slowly, it takes me a minute to stand up from the floor, especially this early in the morning. Sighing, I decide to leave the toys on the floor, he will surely want to dig them out the instant we return home tonight. By the time I get to the dining room half of his bacon is gone and there is a puddle of syrup on the table as well as cascading over his pancakes.
"Sorry, Daddy, I tried to do the syrup but it was heavy and I made a mess. Am I in trouble?" Jack asks, looking very sorry indeed, with syrup dripping from his hands and chin.
I shake my head and smile at my adorable son. I couldn't be mad at him, no matter how long it takes me to clean that sticky and syrupy mess, "No Jack, you are not in trouble. It is okay, we all make messes sometimes. When we are done eating, we can clean everything up together before I have to go to work, okay?"
"Is that my sentence?" Jack asks. Honestly, the things that boy picks up about my work amazes me. I will have to remember to be more careful about what I say when he is around from this point onward.
"No, Jack, I said you aren't in trouble. No sentence for you, this time!" I say lightheartedly, ruffling his hair as I move to sit in my seat next to him and pour syrup on my pancakes. I wipe the syrup from the handle and my hand before I continue, "If you make more messes and don't try to apologize or help me clean up, there will be a sentence next time." I say, moving to a more serious tone, which Jack seems to pick up on.
We finish our breakfast and clean up the mess together. I help him wash the syrup off his face and hands before we head out. Dropping him off at the babysitters on my way to work, I warn her, telling her how Jack served himself breakfast and probably had triple the syrup I did. Smiling softly, she thanks me before I head on my way to the BAU.
I get to work early, before any of the rest of my team arrives, as I planned. I pour a cup of black coffee and head into my office to work on the never ending paperwork and see what this week brings. I sort through the paperwork from Cruz and manage to answer what was actually important by the time the rest of the team is filtering into the bullpen. I look out my window into the office below, and happen to see Jade striding in, talking with Morgan. I rise, opening my office door and call Jade into office and discuss the two cases she 'doesn't find to be bullshit'. What a great insight this young woman has and she insists it is all 'common sense.' If it were common sense there wouldn't be entire departments just for designation of cases and logistics, but she won't hear any of it. Such a humble young woman.
We call the team into the conference room and present the case to a sleepy team. JJ and Morgan seem to be the only ones fully awake and JJ even perks up more when we present the case. I might have to lecture them about work hours and being prepared for anything at a moments notice. Another task Cruz has been on my case about, which I keep putting off. The team might be drowsy but we are effective and get the job done when it matters.
The case Jade and I decided is most important to pursue this morning is a string of murders in and around Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Straight forward, on paper, but seems to be rather difficult to apprehend for the Pittsburgh authorities. They are calling them The River Murders. It is somewhat normal for people to wind up dead floating in the river in a city with three major rivers, but recently these bodies have been found with strangulation marks and their fingernails surgically or mechanically removed. Pittsburgh city police and the port police ask for our help as the locals are becoming uncomfortable with the number of dead bodies being found in the rivers, especially since it is summer and people are trying to enjoy the summer out in nature. A scenario I sympathize with entirely. I couldn't imagine trying to take Jack fishing in an area where we might stumble upon a dead body. No one should have to deal with such macabre, period, let alone when they are trying to relax.
On the jet, JJ, the Pittsburgh native, weighs in "You know, there has always been a little urban legend or rumor that the Smiley Face Man would murder people, dump the body in the river and then paint a smiley face on the bridge as a trademark. It never turned into much, most of the people found floating in the rivers were suicidal and it was forgotten about".
Reid adds his statistical two-cents "Smiley faces are one of the most common simple tags or spray paint images found, so it is not very likely that a smiley face would be related to a dead body, especially if the bodies drift downriver a ways before being found."
"Show off" JJ smirks, nudging her friend with her elbow, "I just was sharing the local urban legend. People in the area are all aware of this urban legend, so it helps to know that before we go around asking questions. Most of the people of Pittsburgh, the general public that is, do believe there is a serial killer on the loose, dumping bodies in the rivers, so we might struggle finding anything credible to this case. The strangulation and removal of fingernails is very unique, but I think we have our work cut out for us." JJ finishes, sitting back in her seat.
"Thank you JJ. That is very good information to know. When we land, fill in Garcia with this information and have her look into finding out about these urban legends and what the police have done to rule out any actual serial killers in the past, for the dead who were not ruled suicide." I reply, giving orders and designating tasks comes natural to me. Has always been natural to me. I guess that is how I ended up rising to team leader so quickly and why Rossi doesn't want the job even with his seniority as a founding member.
"Why do people think a Smiley Face on a bridge would be a signature?" Morgan muses, half asking JJ, half rhetorically.
"I think Spence is right, its just a coincidence, but every time they'd pull a body from the river there would be a smiley face spray painted on the nearest bridge. Of course the news would always show up at the scene and people would notice the graffiti. Some of the more conspiracy minded people probably thought it was connected, you know how it goes like wildfire from there. I'm sure if you'd count all the smiley faces in the 'Burgh it would far outnumber the dead people found in the river, its just a legend. I don't think anyone knows how it started, or particularly cares."
The rest of the short jet ride the team debates urban legends and how they shape public opinion. Spencer brings up some more statistical quips, Blake shares a story about how some urban legends end up being true but we only find out many, many years later through the discovery of new technology, new tests, new scientific breakthroughs. We agree to keep an open mind, but to be wary of any tips that regard 'The Smiley Face Man.'
We land and JJ calls Garcia, as I directed. Blake and Dave head to the ME and find out what evidence he finds on the bodies. Morgan and I head out to the latest scene and Reid heads to the university library to do his own research on the urban legend as well as others in the area. Jade gets acquainted with the city police as well as the port authority police, and finds what the media has already been reporting on the cases.
Morgan and I arrive at the latest scene, a body had been found minutes after our jet took off in DC, and find a crew of investigators on the scene, we approach the lead detective and introduce ourselves.
"Thanks for joining us, Hotchner and Morgan. I'm Detective DeMarco, the lead detective in this district as well as lead on all The River Murders." A rather tall, dark haired, middle aged man stands and offers his hand to us. I find his grip strong, but not intimidating. I nod in return.
"Can you quickly catch us up, what have you learned about the cases so far?" I ask as we return to the area the body was found early this morning.
"I've lived in the 'Burgh my entire life, agents. There are always bodies popping up in the rivers, maybe a handful a year. Usually suicides or accidents, people sliding off a bridge or hillside in the winter, ya know? Well, since this April there have been a dozen bodies found in the rivers. This one's lucky number 13. All of them have rope strangulation marks around their necks and not a one of them has a single fingernail left on their hands n'at. So we send 'em all to the Medical Examiner to see if there's any other evidence. I'm sure yinz can talk to him for all those details. No ones ever reporting seeing how the bodies end up in the river, no ones reporting them missing til after the bodies been found, ya see. There aren't any real trends to follow, different ages, genders, races. From different parts of town, some from outside the 'Burgh even." Detective DeMarco tells us, he carefully shows us the strangulation marks and missing fingernails as he describes the crimes.
Morgan and I share a look, Morgan raising his eyebrows skeptically, this detective sure has a unique way of speaking, but he seems like he knows his stuff and is a very thorough detective. I nod slightly, agreeing with Morgans unspoken concerns.
"Thank you, Detective DeMarco. Do you have any current suspects? Have you ever seen crimes similar to this in the past? Strangulation, or the fingernail removal?" I ask as I put on latex gloves to examine the hands myself. I am not a forensics expert, but I have seen many gruesome things over the years.
"A few years back, maybe 2007-2008, there was a young fellow who was strangled, but we thought it was a hate crime, that was how the investigation went, if I remember. He was African American and we found him in an affluent, predominantly white neighborhood. Other than the kid, no strangulations with ligature marks left on the victim. No crimes with the fingernails removed, that I'm aware of." Detective DeMarco straightens, walks toward the rivers edge and indicates he wants us to follow. "Maybe elsewhere in the 'Burgh, but not my district. We have very little leads to goes on, not a lot of the businesses along the rivers have cameras facing the waterfronts, if at all." He indicates, looking upriver to the steel mills, factories, the rusty abandoned buildings alongside. "This is a blue collar city, for the most part. We work hard, support our families and friends, but not a lot of the businesses have the means to update with video surveillance equipment. Unless we get a witness to come up, we have very little to generate leads. What kind a person does this?"
I am unsure if that was a rhetorical question, if he were trying to think out loud and work it out, if it is part of his process, or if he were asking Morgan and I as we survey the blue collar city he wants us to make note of. I look to Morgan and he shrugs, also unsure.
After a minute of silence, I take it as a question to Morgan and myself, so I speak up. "Well, it is a rather unusual MO, for sure. But if I had to say, I would guess we are looking for a mentally unstable individual, perhaps someone who is suffering a psychotic break, who believes he is killing these innocent people as some sort of ritual."
"A ritual? I'm sorry, but what kind a ritual requires you to remove all the fingernails of someone?" Detective DeMarco asks, his gaze turning from the river to me, dark brows furrowed and full of questions I don't have the answers to. Yet.
"I'm not entirely sure, we have only just arrived and don't have all the evidence yet. Might be some sort of pagan ritual, might be something he created on his own, might be tied to witchcraft or it might be some compulsion related to a mental illness. When we get more of the facts I'll be able to say more about this man. I am fairly certain it is a male, typically males are more likely to commit these crimes and a man would more easily be able to dispose of a body in this manner."
"Thank you, Agent Hotchner, I appreciate yinz for coming to help us in the 'Burgh. This city hasn't seen anything so serious and so messed up, not since I've been on the force."
"No need to thank us until we find the UNSUB and get him behind bars. We are all part of the same team." I reply as we walk back and speak to a few other investigators and get directions to a few other sites where bodies have been found.
Morgan and I navigate to the other locations, the other sites the bodies were found, and discover very similar scenes to the one we just left. A muddy green and possibly polluted portion of river, clearly effected by the industry around it and the poor practices of over a century of steel work and changing economies. A small dock along a narrow access road with some grown up reeds and cat-tails leading to factories, steel mills or abandoned buildings. The investigators and forensics crews didn't leave much for us to see, but I can imagine where the bodies would wash up, get caught and eventually be discovered. Certainly a blue collar city, like Detective DeMarco stated.
As we drive back to the police station, Monday afternoon, we head into the city proper and it is more like what you would expect for a city of this size. Large buildings, bustling businesses, public transit and people rushing about. Maybe that is why the bodies are found where they are, the UNSUB favors the less populated areas so he is unlikely to be discovered and stopped. He is mentally ill but not completely irrational. A clear plan is formed in his mind, even if it does not make sense to the rest of us, even if we struggle to piece together his thoughts and reasonings and figure out what he is doing and why.
We return into the department and head into the office we were given to catch up with the team and share what we learned. Morgan and I are the last of the team to return, having driven over several locations in the Pittsburgh area to examine each scene.
"It appears the UNSUB is dumping the bodies upstream, outside of town, in poorer areas where there is less of a chance of surveillance cameras catching him in the act. The closer we get to the center of town, the confluence of the rivers, the more modern the waterfronts become, the more likely our UNSUB will be seen. It appears he is also aware of this fact and takes special care to dump the bodies away so even as they drift to shore and get caught up in the reeds and docks they might not be discovered right away." I explain to the team who is listening intently.
"The bodies are washing up into the reeds or getting tangled in the docks by the steel mills and discovered some time later, usually by people enjoying nature early in the morning. The detectives say they usually find only a handful of bodies in the rivers each year, this year we are already over a dozen just with the strangulation and fingernails missing. Whoever this guy is, he has a serious grudge." Morgan continues telling our story.
I straighten my tie before I resume speaking, "Yes, certainly seems like he has a grudge. These detectives don't have much clue or anything to go on by way of suspects, and the lead detective didn't mention any material evidence that might lead to something. The lead detective believes this is a classic blue collar city and everyone looks out for each other. Another thing he mentioned is there doesn't seem to be a clear set of victims, they range in age, gender, race, social classes, so it might be a random selection or victim of opportunity when a certain trigger is set off."
Dave and Blake step forward to report what they found at the ME, with my best friend speaking first, "The ME told us something new. While the victims have clear marks of stranulation around their necks, and it is easy to see their fingernails are removed, the time in the water obscured another detail. The fingerprints are also being burnt off."
"A forensic countermeasure? The ME wasn't sure, but he speculates the fingerprints were removed to slow or hinder the identification process and the fingernails are removed to, in turn, remove any DNA evidence that might be hiding under the victims fingernails. We seem to be dealing with an intelligent person who is aware of police and forensic procedures, so it might be even harder to catch this UNSUB." Blake states matter-of-factly, her face serious and nearly without emotion, trying not to let her anger and frustration show.
"The ME found no evidence to lead to any sort of suspect. He did say the rope used to strangle the victims is natural hemp, there were a few fibers found in the wounds on the neck as well as tangled in a female victims hair near the nape of her neck. It appears the rope is being used as a sort of collar almost like you'd put on your dog. Not a typical noose or even a rope used to tie and subdue the victim, but a collar, like to keep them tethered somewhere. This makes us think he captures them and keeps them alive for some period of time before he kills them, burns their fingertips and removes the fingernails. The ME says the strangling happened when the victims were alive, but no more than 3 or 4 days before they were put into the water. He isn't using the rope to help drop them into the rivers. The burns and fingernail removal happened shortly post-mortem." Dave continues, looking pale as he imagines the scenario he is describing of our victims final days.
"Another thing the ME stated, there are absolutely no bruises on the victims bodies, pre or post mortem, so he is analyzing their blood to see if there is anything wrong with their coagulation to prohibit the bruises from forming. Their are rope marks, yes small abraisions in a rope pattern, but no bruising from where the ropes would exert pressure." Blake adds before stepping back.
"I spoke with Garcia, to look into the Smiley Face Man and the police investigations related to other bodies found in the rivers. She will get back to us soon with what she finds." JJ informs us.
Reid clears his throat as he prepares to speak, "I found several interesting articles in the University library. The Smiley Face Man or Smiley Face Killer legend goes back to the early 1990's when bodies were showing up in rivers, not only in Pittsburgh, but also in Wheeling, West Virginia, Buffalo, New York, Madison, Wisconsin, Minneapolis, Minnesota and in New York City, along the East River. There are two retired detectives who keep this urban legend relevant, Kevin Gannon and Anthony Duarte, who seem to do very poor detective work, or are very willing to overlook the fact that just because they believe there is a link, that doesn't make it so. In 2008, an unnamed branch of the FBI, which I happen to agree with, released a statement saying 'we had not developed any evidence to support links between these tragic deaths or any evidence substantiating the theory that these deaths are the work of a serial killer or killers.' I am unaware of any FBI cases with this name, but perhaps Hotch or Rossi might know?
Anyway, then in 2012, the Center for Homicide Research in Minneapolis made a statement officially debunking the deaths as the work of the serial killer or killers. The tags, like I said, are easily reproduced, there are many different types of smiley faces found at the scenes, some of the graffiti is faded or even partially painted over, indicating they are much older than the murders they are supposed to be taking credit for. Prior to our UNSUB, most of the bodies found in the rivers are, like JJ said earlier, suicidal individuals who unfortunately choose to end their own lives, or are young college aged men who are most likely drunk, stumbling home from a bar and either wander into the river, stop to urinate over a bridge, or simply are too intoxicated to realize they are lost, and stumble into the river, accidentally drowning. Pat Brown, the author who claims to be a profiler as well, also believes the urban legend to be absolutely ludicrous, not relating at all to what is known about serial killers and their methods. So, while I didn't really learn anything to help our case, I feel like I now know so much more about urban legends and the dangers of improper or lazy detective work."
Spencer spoke so quickly, none of us had a chance to interrupt him or even get a word in, as he info-dumped all the material he read today in the library. When he did finish speaking we all were in shock, trying to process the information just flung at us and sort out what we need to keep in mind.
"Oh, that Gannon guy called while you guys were out. He said he didn't think they were Smiley Face Murders, but rather a copy-cat hoping to ursup the Smiley Face Killers fame. He sounded somewhat jealous, or hurt." Jade pipes up after a moment of processing. "I didn't really have any other relevant phone calls today. The Pittsburgh police are all really nice, though. Make some great coffee too."
"I believe I remember reading over the files from Gannon and Duarte in 2008." I say as the memory resurfaces. "Morgan, you and I were asked to read over the files and provide any input. Like Reid just said, we didn't find anything compelling or related to known serial killers. It really did sound like a bunch of drunk young men falling into the river after drinking perhaps a little too much."
"Right, now I remember, Hotch. Erin brought us the files one evening and rolled her eyes as she dropped them on the desk. I guess they were hunting for their 15 minutes of fame but didn't find it. Those guys are still circulating that "theory"?" Morgan replies, leaning back in the folding chair he claimed.
"It would appear so. Now, lets focus back on this case. It is good to know that most of those deaths were accidental, but if the public thinks they are related, if they are someone trying to one-up the Smiley Face Killers, or our current victims are some form of escalation of the simple drownings, we will need to keep that in mind. What do we know?" I ask the team.
Dave speaks up, "The victims are not reported missing, sometimes when the police are notifying family it is the first they know the victim has gone missing or might be dead. So they are not people who are missed or have a family relying on them. There is no victim profile. They are held for some time with a rope collar, before they are murdered, their fingertips burnt and fingernails removed, then dumped into the river where they remain for 2-3 days before being discovered."
"So, what does that mean?" Blake asks, trying to formulate a profile, or at least some questions of where we should start looking to form a profile.
"That means he selects victims who are not going to be missed so it gives him more time with them, for whatever twisted reason. There are no bruises, not even under the collars, even though the collars do end up strangling them and crushing their larynx' and snapping the hyoid bone in their neck. After they die he carefully burns their fingertips, ensuring there is no fingerprints left to identify the victims and removes their fingernails so there is no trace evidence underneath them to identify him." Dave answers, careful and calm, a screen I have seen many times before when his mind is racing trying to piece it together and find the missing piece, the clue we need to send us in the right direction.
"Why are we so sure it is a male? Could it be a female?" JJ asks, not being petty, nor stupid, just trying to be sure we are thorough, not overlooking the possibility of a female UNSUB.
"In order to subdue a victim without covering him in bruises, to dump a body into the river without post-mortem bruising, it would have to be an unusually large and strong female to accomplish. It will most likely be a larger and stronger than average male, too." I reply, stepping forward to where she is standing. "Here, try to lift me, subdue me."
JJ takes a moment, looks me over and evaluates her options. She attempts to jab in my side with her elbow, but realizes that would leave a large bruise, then she tries to swipe my leg from underneath me, but that would bruise my inner thigh as well as my instep, and likely the back of my head if it were to hit the pavement. Frustrated, she lets out a bit of a grunt. "Fine, how would you do it?" She asks me, admitting defeat.
I quickly step behind her, swipe an arm behind her knees and the other at her mid-back and lift her bridal style. I take a step then return her to the ground with a grin, "Easily like that. No bruises."
"Show off! So, what, our UNSUB is taking his victims into the honeymoon suite for a few days, strangles them and all that, then dumps them in the Mon?" JJ asks, confused on what happens after the apprehension, as we all are.
"That is what we need to find out, in order to capture this twisted SOB" Dave replies, stuffing his hands into his blazer pockets.
The team decides to order some food for dinner and think over what we have learned so far and what our next steps should be. JJ convinces us to order the local specialty sandwiches, which we are initially apprehensive about, but end up enjoying immensely. After a short break, we continue our discussion until 11pm when I make the executive decision to send the team to our hotels and regroup at 7am.
Tuesday goes much like Monday afternoon. We sit around the police department office, talking about what could be going on, where the UNSUB could be, how he could be selecting his random victims, anything to do with the case. Theories abound, which bring us no closer to apprehending the UNSUB. Again, I dismiss the team around 11pm with orders to meet up at 7am Wednesday morning.
Frustration builds and we decide to visit the latest crime scene again, see if there is anything Detective DeMarco and his team missed, anything Morgan and I may have overlooked. We take the black government SUVs to the scene and in the early morning light, begin our search, desperate for any clues. We search in teams of two, Blake and Rossi, JJ and Reid, with Jade, Morgan and I making a third team. JJ and Reid stay near the location the body was found, while the rest of us spread out. Blake and Rossi head up along the waterfront and my group heads inland and look into the abandoned factory building closest to the scene. After nearly an hour of canvassing the scene, Rossi calls us over to where he and Blake were searching, nearly a half mile upstream from where the body was found.
"What did you find?" Reid calls as he and JJ jog over as well.
"Not sure if this is relevant, but here are some muddy shoeprints and something dragged between his feet." Rossi informs us, moving some of the brush and weeds out of the way. Indeed there are several clear footprints in the mud with a big smear of something being drug along.
"Do you think this is where he dumped the body? Do you know if DeMarco's team came this far upstream?" Morgan asks me. "You can call him, that man sure has the strangest way of speaking. He might be the best detective in the city but I don't like him."
I just chuckle and shake my head as I grab my phone and call the detective. It turns out they did not search that far upstream and they asked us to photograph the shoeprints and he is sending a team out, STAT.
Half an hour later the forensics team arrives and we process the scene together. I make sure they send their results to me as well as Garcia. Not long after that Garcia calls and informs us it is a size 16 Men's Adjustable Athletic Shoe and sends us a picture of the shoe. It looks like the orthopedic type of shoe my grandfather wore in his nursing home.
"Do you think this is a senior citizen? Surely it can't be?" Blake asks, generally, coming to a similar conclusion.
"No, perhaps the UNSUB is institutionalized or was recently released from a mental health facility. Often people in such places for long periods of time have clothing and footwear provided by the institution or facility, and they tend to provide shoes similar to that style." Reid answers without hesitation.
"Thank you, Doctor Wiz Kid." Morgan quips as he prepares to call Garcia, already thinking the same questions I am. "Hey mama, you're on Speaker, so talk nice."
"Hello all my favorite friends, how may I be of assistance?" Garcia greets us.
"Mama, we need to know if there were any men released from any mental health facilities or institutions in March or April."
"I'm sure there were, Hot Chocolate, anything else I should be looking for?"
"Younger males, probably very tall if he's wearing size 16s, probably well educated before they were admitted. Possible history with law enforcement too. Either in a professional capacity or perhaps his run in with the law is what brought him into the mental health facility in the first place."
"Alrighty, I'll be back with the list before this Popsicle gets to melt. Oh! Damn! Hotch, forget that I said "Popsicle". And Damn. Sorry Hotch!"
I laugh heartily at the fumbling Garcia, "Garcia, don't worry, you are allowed to eat as many Popsicles as you want. Just don't ruin all the governments property by dripping into the keyboard."
"Aye-aye Captain Boss-man. I shall call you back most expeditiously." Garcia replies hanging up the phone.
As we wait for her response, we return to the police station and explore what this discovery means, what kind of UNSUB that was previously institutionalized might do, where he might be living now, how this effects his possible victim pool. Shortly before noon Garcia calls us with a list of three individuals recently released from area mental health hospitals and long term institutions, and their current listed addresses. We inform Detective DeMarco as well as the Police Chief, and three teams rapidly head out, one to each residence, with Jade staying behind to help with logistics. Each team strikes out, he is not at home. We interview the people at each residence, trying to help narrow down which man could be our UNSUB, or if we have to go back to square one.
The police in my team wait in the SUV while Reid and I interview the woman who lives with our suspect, she claims to be his older sister.
"Ma'am, if you may, can you tell us about your brother? Where he is right now?" Reid asks as she welcomes us into her modest kitchenette and pours us some coffee.
"Todd is just your average guy, you know. Are you from West Penn Hospital? I didn't think they'd be sending somebody so soon."
"No, ma'am, like I said at the door, we are federal agents. We work with the FBI in the Behavioral Analysis Unit."
"Oh, whats that? Are you studying folks with Autism and Schizophrenia?" She asks as she places the coffees on the small table in front of Reid and I.
"Not exactly, ma'am. We are here helping the Pittsburgh police with a few open cases. We just would like to know more about your brother, Todd. Do you have any pictures of him?" I answer gently.
"Oh, here, we just took these pictures yesterday, down by The Point. He loves walking down there after I get home from work." She shows us a few photos on her phone. Her brother is indeed a tall man, maybe 6'4" or 6'5", he would have little trouble subduing a victim if he so desired.
"Thank you, ma'am. Now, tell us more about him. How long has Todd lived with you? Does he work?"
"Welcome," She says sliding the phone back into her back pocket before sitting across from us, continuing, "Todd has only lived with me a couple months. Before that he was in West Penn Hospital. Before that, well, he was on his own a bit. After our parents died, that is. He lived with them all his life. When Dad died 2 years ago, Todd stayed with Mom. He helped her around the house, but no, he never worked. They lived on Dad's pension. Mostly, Mom did most of the helping, keeping Todd focused. Then just after Thanksgiving, Mom had a bad stroke, they said she was dead by the time 911 arrived. Todd was always different, ya know? He has Autism so that makes him a bit awkward around people, he doesn't understand things that just come naturally. Then, when he was 25, he snapped and got in a very violent fight with Dad. That is when we all discovered he was also schizophrenic. Our parents tried their best, took him to the best doctors and therapists. Luckily, we live pretty close to the hospital and the university, so it wasn't too hard to find good help. And it did seem to help." She tells us, pausing to drink her coffee and collect her thoughts, decide what to tell us, what isn't important. I get the sense she has told several people about Todd.
"Then, after Mom died, I was busy with the funeral arrangements, with the estate, I figured, as long as Todd is doing well, he can live in our parents house by himself. It's only 4 blocks away, I stopped by before and after work, I spent my weekends there. But then two days before Christmas, I show up and I see Todd strangling a woman. He is screaming at her, saying its her fault our parents are dead. I manage to get him to let go, and the woman was fine, but the police, Todd's doctors and therapists all agreed, it would be best if he went into West Penn Hospital for a while. West Penn is a mental hospital, you know." The woman seems weary, tired of keeping all this in. I wonder if her friends know all the details.
"Thank you, ma'am. So how long was Todd in West Penn Hospital? Did you visit while he was there?" Reid asks soothingly.
"He was in there from Christmas day until the third or forth of April. I visited every Wednesday and Friday, after work. Part of the condition of his release was living with me."
"Was Todd okay with living with you, moving into a new house for the first time? I know some people on the Autism Spectrum find changes, particularly moving, to be very difficult." Reid states, almost as if he were speaking from personal experience rather than his vast knowledge.
"At first he didn't want to, he wanted me to move into our parents place, but after we had a long discussion, he agreed. I have a daughter, she's 14 and also on the Autism Spectrum, and it would be harder on her to move. He still mentions missing their house, but I think he likes it here."
"Okay, thank you. Where is Todd now? You said he never had a job?" I ask, carefully, not wanting to arouse suspicion, but I think Todd may be our UNSUB.
"Oh he's mowing lawns for a few of the people in the neighborhood. Most of the people in this neighborhood are older, like our parents ages, and they can't keep their lawns as nice as they used to. Todd goes around and sees whose lawns need mowed and offers. He has been really busy this week, with everyone getting ready to have picnics and backyard barbecues for the forth of July. He actually should be back pretty soon, he normally stops by in time for lunch."
"Would it be alright if we stay until he returns? We'd like to ask him a few questions as well."
"Of course, officers. No problem. Would you like something to eat? Or maybe some lemonade? It is getting quite warm today."
"Agents. And I would like a lemonade, if you don't mind. Thank you." I correct her gently.
"I'd like a lemonade too, please." Reid responds, smiling at her as she rises to serve us our drinks while we wait.
We chat about a few trivial things as we drink our lemonade and wait for Todd to arrive home. His sister is very kind and talkative, I get the feeling she is rather lonely and doesn't have many people to talk to about her family. In a way I feel like we will be doing her a favor when we arrest him shortly.
Todd enters the front door just as there is a slight lull in the conversation. She hops up and rushes through the house to the front door to greet him and inform him we are here.
"Todd, how was the lawn mowing? There are two men here to talk to you, they want to know all about you."
"What did you tell them?!" A loud voice exclaims as we hear them approach.
"Todd! Where are your manners? They are nice men, you don't have anything to be upset about. Now, come on into the kitchen, don't keep them waiting."
As they enter the kitchen, Reid and I remain seated, however we turn to face Todd and his sister at the door. As soon as he takes us in, sees how we are dressed on this very warm indeed July day, he turns and bolts for the front door, pushing his sister aside. Before he is able to get there, I catch up to him, putting my hand firmly on his upper arm.
"Todd, I wouldn't do that if I were you. Don't run away. I am not here to hurt you. Like your sister said, I want to know all about you." I say, calm, yet stern. A voice I typically reserve for Jack when he is being bad and I need to calm him down quickly. I hope it has the same effect on this man.
After a few seconds, Todd relaxes, lowers his hand from the door, and turns to calmly face me. His eyes are red, as if he is holding back tears, but other wise the tall, strong man appears calm.
"Thank you, now can you tell me what you were doing early Monday morning?" I say as I guide him back through the house and to the table I had just been sitting at.
Todd initially denies everything, saying he was here all day, but after a few questions, Reid and I are able to get him to confess to everything and to come along with us peacefully. As we load him into the squad car, Reid alerts the rest of the team, letting them know it is over and time to come into the station.
We quickly close out this case and head onto the jet, glad to be going home early. As everyone settles into their seats, Dave clears his voice.
"I think this case, awful as it was, deserves a celebration. Friday is Independence Day, I would be honored if everyone came over to my house and we had some great food and celebrated. What do you say?"
"I say hell yeah! Any time Rossi is offering to host I am there!" Morgan shouts, standing to pour some wine from the minibar at the back of the jet. Morgan passes out glasses of wine as everyone joins in the celebratory tone. Unanimously we agree to have Forth of July at Dave Rossi's mansion.
"Hey, Hotch, can we just land the jet at Rossi's and celebrate for a few days?" JJ asks, sipping her drink.
"Let me answer that for Hotch, no." Dave answers, laughing, "I might have a big house but I don't have my own runway. Also, I want at least one good nights sleep before you crazy kids keep me up way too late with this crazy party. Whose idea was it anyway? That guy must be nuts" he jokes, sitting down at the table with everyone.
"A library outranks any other one thing a community can do to benefit its people. It is a never failing spring in the desert." Andrew Carnegie
