The officers were quiet as they filed into the ready room. Norman stood against one of the chairs as everyone took a seat. Blake sat near the back, folding his legs in front of him while Captain Perry seated himself near the doorway, and three or four other officers filled remaining chairs. The bustle faded, and Norman felt his face warm as the officers stared in his direction.

"Ah, actually before we get started here…" Perry stood up and looked around the room. "As I'm sure, you met Lieutenant Detective Carter Blake this morning." Blake glared straight ahead as if he wasn't aware of the other people in the room. "Over here is Sergeant Ashton Taylor, Officer Martin Payne, Sergeant Detective Ashley Gibbons, and Senior Deputy Sheriff Walter Hughes." Perry turned to Norman with a smile. "A lot of really formal names." He sat in the chair and waved his hand. "Why don't we get down to business?"

Norman tried not to look at the other officers. He leaned off the chair and rubbed his hands together. "Well, I don't want to waste anyone's time, so I'll start off with what I was able to extrapolate based on the case files." He paced in front of the room slowly. "The killer is most likely a white male between the ages of thirty and forty-five. He lives right here in Philadelphia, and travels by car, likely an older sedan with worn tires. Based on the tracks at the scene, his shoe size is ten, and he probably wears Timberland boots. He's either unemployed, or works a job that is flexible enough for him to commit the murders on his own time. We're talking a highly professional, organized criminal that has done his research and specialized murder down to a science. The only evidence he leaves behind is the evidence he wants us to find."

There was a snort from the back, and Norman saw Blake shift. Norman folded his arms across his chest, dredging up his confidence. "Got something to add, Blake?"

"What, you aren't going to tell us his weight, height, hair color, and favorite TV show?" Blake looked around as some of the other officers laughed. Norman forced down his frustration.

"Everything I'm telling you is based off the evidence that I found at the crime scene this morning and the case files." Norman narrowed his gaze at Blake. "I could have learned more if the investigation had been done properly from the beginning."

Blake shot forward in his chair, his face tensed in fury. Perry raised a hand. "That's enough," said Perry. "Jayden, continue."

Norman breathed out slowly. Despite Blake's attitude, Norman felt somehow stronger. "This isn't a random criminal drowning kids for sport. He is meticulous, cunning, and prepared. The bodies were found first on the outskirts of the city, and over the years have moved further towards the center. He's getting better at what he does."

Norman rested his hands on the back of a chair. "Usually when a killer first strikes, he's going to do it quickly and carefully. He'll kill, then run back to his base. The Origami Killer obviously knew that. He scattered the bodies all over the city so we can't pinpoint the location that he operates from."

Distant thunder rumbled beyond the walls. "So if we can't find the killer by location, we have to try and predict the killer's movements based on his previous habits." Norman looked up at the window. "He doesn't harm the kids directly. My guess is he doesn't even touch them until after they're dead. All of the victims are kidnapped and missing for three to five days, then found apparently drowned in rainwater. So it makes sense that during the time they're missing, they must be trapped in some kind of tank that fills up with rainwater."

Perry nodded understandingly, and Norman saw Blake cross his arms out of the corner of his eye. Norman looked around the room. "I also don't believe that the Origami killer murders out of spite. He dresses the victims up afterward like a private funeral with an origami figure in one hand and an orchid on the chest."

"Wait, but why would he smear mud on their faces if he's not murdering them in cold blood?" asked one of the officers.

"It's because it takes away their individuality," said Norman. "The mud is like a mask. He's making all the kids alike. And the private funeral… could be a sign of remorse."

"You think this psycho is sorry for what he does to them?" Blake tsked and flashed an angry look at the other officers. "Why the hell would he be sorry if he slowly drowns a child in a tank of rainwater over five days?"

"He wants something from them."

Norman gazed past the guards and found himself staring at a pair of round brown eyes. The brunette officer ran a thumb over her lip. "I mean, five days is a long time to keep someone hostage, isn't it? If you're going to risk kidnapping someone for that long instead of just killing them outright, maybe he wants some kind of information or satisfaction."

Norman pressed his knuckle against his mouth. "I don't know about the satisfaction part of it," he said. "But that was my thought too. A clear motive is that the killer is waiting for something to happen, but whatever he wants isn't happening before the kids are drowned. That's why he holds the funeral, and continues to kidnap and murder."

"Look," said Blake. "Maybe he jerks off after work every night from the kids drowning, like B.T.K." A few officers shifted uncomfortably. "You don't have to be some psychological intellectual to be a fucking sicko."

"I don't think─" The officer lowered her voice. "I don't think a sicko looking to satisfy a sexual peeve would be so caring of the body afterward. B.T.K didn't bury any of his victims."

"That's right, Blake," said Norman, and he could almost see the smoke rising from Blake's body. "The killer left the bodies in plain sight as a message. He wanted them to be found and cared for. A sexual predator isn't going to do that."

"And how the fuck do you know that?" Blake stood up, pointing at Norman violently. "How are you so convinced that this guy is white, shoe size fucking ten─" Blake ticked off his fingers "─allergic to peanuts and whatever shit you just said. How do we know you're not just taking us down some random path that's going to dead end, and this kid is just going to die like the rest of the victims, Norman?" Blake's chest heaved, and the room was quiet except for the tapping of rain.

Norman stood still, feeling as though he were braced against a heavy wave. He clenched the back of the chair and looked at Blake. "Because it's my job."

Blake threw his hands in the air and made a noise. He flung himself back into the chair and stared at the wall, shaking his foot over his knee.

"Look, we need to work together here," said Perry, turning toward the officers. "We're not going to get anywhere by fighting with eachother." Perry twisted in his chair to look at Norman. "What do you suggest we do, Agent Jayden?"

Norman's hands tingled, and he flexed them nervously. "I was able to make a list of suspects that I think match the killer's profile. If we have time, I want to question them."

"How much time do we have?" said Perry. Norman looked at the window which was dotted in raindrops. He felt his shoulders sink from the weight of the task ahead.

"The previous victims were found dead after six inches of rain. If the rain continues like this…" Norman bit his lower lip. "... then we have less than three days."

The officers looked around at eachother, and Blake shook his head slowly. Perry nodded. "Then do what you need to do."

"I'll go with you."

Norman looked up at the brunette officer. She looked about as nervous as Norman felt. He didn't know why, but somehow having her on his side made the situation less stressful. Norman gave a nod and leaned off the chair he'd been gripping. "Okay."

"And why don't you also take the Lieutenant with you," said Perry. "I don't know what you two have against eachother, but you can settle it by working together." He stood up, and the rest of the officers rose from their chairs. "Good luck, gentlemen."

The officers slowly filed out of the room one by one. Blake gave Norman a look of pure loathing before leaving the through the door. Norman felt his gut twist at the thought of working with him, if he could even call it working together. He planned on wearing the ARI for most of the investigation if it meant he wouldn't have to deal with him.

"Sounds like we've got one hell of a job." The brunette officer stepped next to Norman and gazed through the open door. "I just hope you have a good plan."

Norman shrugged his shoulders. "It's not much of a plan. To be honest..." He rubbed his forehead, "...I'm just taking this as I go." He looked sideways at her. "I'm sorry, who are you again?"

She held out a hand. "Ashley Gibbons, Sergeant Detective." Norman shook it. He felt somewhat ashamed of his first impression from that morning. He hoped her unexpected insight would keep up through the investigation.

"Thanks for your input just now," said Norman. "It helped shut Blake up."

Gibbons stared at him blankly. "But he's not here right now."

For a moment, they were quiet. It took Norman a while to realize he was still holding her hand as he struggled to understand what she'd just said. Then her eyes widened.

"Oh, you mean─" she motioned with her thumb over her shoulder. "You mean during the meeting!" She breathed a laugh, and Norman couldn't help but stare at her, speechless. "Well, anything I can do to help. I never liked that guy anyway."

She moved through the door, and Norman stood still as if he were frozen solid. The patter of rain mingled with the office sounds of the lobby as the room grew quiet. Norman's hope melted away, and in a complete surrender to despair, he smacked his palm into his forehead and sighed.