a"You have a suspect in custody?" Aaron Hotchner asked after introductions were made. There were seven previously unconnected victims in Las Vegas. As soon as they had been connected, the BAU had been called in.
"Yes, the son of the last victim," the detective nodded. "Little shit lawyered up as soon as he arrived."
"Where is he now?" Hotch asked.
"This way," the detective motioned for the team to follow him. Morgan and Dave were at the last crime scene, JJ was working on a press conference, and Prentiss was here with him.
In the interrogation room, a young man – a boy, really – was talking with a woman in a suit – his lawyer, Hotch realized. They were talking softly with one another, and Hotch couldn't hear what they were saying.
After observing them for a few minutes, Hotch walked to the door of the interrogation room and entered.
The young man – Hotch hadn't caught his name – looked up. "Would you mind giving us another few minutes? I am allowed to consult with an attorney before any interrogation. I would also like to point out that I have not yet received a Miranda warning, although I have been asked questions. You do realize that anything said during questioning before one is informed of their rights is inadmissible in court, even if it is repeated afterwards? Nineteen sixty six, Miranda v. Arizona, Supreme Court. Miranda confessed guilt but couldn't be convicted. Fifth and sixth amendment. Need I continue?"
Hotch had to admit, he was a little thrown aback. The attorney was holding in laughter. However, he couldn't say that the man wasn't right. "How much time do you need?" Hotch wasn't planning on granting him that time if it took longer than half an hour, but it was only polite to ask.
"Six minutes, I think," Reid said.
Hotch was surprised at how precise the man was. He nodded and left the room.
Outside, he turned to the detective. "Was he right about the Miranda warning?"
The detective flushed a little. "He is," he grumped. "Most teenagers haven't heard of those rights, let alone they use them."
Prentiss, who was watching Reid through the screen, spoke. "Has he admitted to anything yet? Because he is right, even if he repeats it after you've given him the warning, it will be inadmissible as evidence."
"No," the detective grumped again. "He hasn't."
They watched Reid and his lawyer conversing for a few minutes. "How old is he? What's his name, actually?"
"Spencer Reid, he just turned 18," the detective spoke. Just then, the lawyer stood and knocked at the door. Hotch looked at the clock and saw that it had been exactly six minutes.
That was just plain creepy.
"My client and I are ready for you," the lawyer spoke. "I am Melanie Grint. My client wishes to speak with those highest in the chain of command, which I believe is you," she nodded to Hotch.
Hotch raised his eyebrows but decided to humor the request. After all, he had already entered the room once.
Hotch followed the lawyer into the room. "My name is SAC Hotchner. To avoid any confusion - You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult an attorney before speaking to the police and to have an attorney present during questioning now or in the future. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you before any questioning, if you wish. If you decide to answer any questions now, without an attorney present, you will still have the right to stop answering at any time until you talk to an attorney. Do you understand?"
Spencer Reid's eyebrows rose a little. "You are intelligent. I understand I may have an attorney present during the answering of any questions. I understand that everything I say may be used against me in a court of law. I understand I may retract or exercise my rights as I see fit. I understand I do not have to answer any questions." He paused. "Was that conclusive?"
Hotch was surprised at the way Reid phrased his sentences. It belied his age. "Yes." Before he could continue, Reid spoke.
"I want to make a deal. The reason I have not asked for the DA is because I want to make a deal concerning the investigation. I want you to pursue a certain, additional line of investigation."
Hotch's eyebrows twitched. Just who did this kid think he was?
"Why would I be interested in such a deal?"
Reid clearly expected that answer. "In return, I would not be completely silent. I am not asking you to drop a line of investigation, just to pursue an additional one. It's like this – I give you a name or a description of some persons and you check their alibis."
Hotch nodded. It appeared the man was trying to maintain a statement of his innocence.
"Who would these people be?"
Reid gave a bitter smile. "William Reid, and anyone he had a relationship with in the past nineteen years."
Hotch was intrigued. "Family of yours, Mr. Reid?"
Reid gave Hotch an annoyed look. Hotch's eyebrows twitched. People didn't give him annoyed looks, especially not eighteen-year-olds.
"He left when I was ten, but never legally divorced. That gives him and anyone he has a relationship with a motive. And I don't rule out he might have had an affair. He might possibly have quit a relationship with someone a short while before he left – it would alleviate any feelings of guilt he might have had, because this way he wouldn't be leaving my mom for another woman. If this happened, that woman would have a motive: revenge. If she were a mother herself, she may have waited until I was eighteen because then she wouldn't be orphaning a child. That last point would also go for anyone he couldn't marry because he didn't divorce." He shot Hotch another annoyed look. "And unless you wish to be addressed as Mr. Hotchner, please address me by my title."
That made sense, in a way. Hotch was also quite impressed. "I will inform my colleague to search for the people you described. And what do you mean by 'title'?" If Reid actually had a title, that would explain the annoyed look after being addressed as Mister Reid.
Melanie Grint gave an amused snort. "I will leave you to it, then. I'll return tomorrow." She stood.
"You're not staying?" Hotch was surprised.
"Dr. Reid," the lawyer put a large emphasis on the title, "wished me to witness the formalization of the deal you just made. He also asked me to arrange a few things, which I will do once I am at my office." She gave Hotch a hard look. "I trust I will be informed of any progress in the investigation?"
Hotch affirmed this and signaled for the door to be opened.
"Good luck, Doc," Melanie said with a slightly affectionate smile towards the apparent Dr. Reid.
Reid's smile back was guarded and a little strained, but also affectionate. "See you tomorrow."
Hotch stepped outside the room to converse with Prentiss. Prentiss promised to call Garcia for the information on William Reid and his lovers. Then Hotch stepped back inside and sat down opposite of Reid.
Before he could speak, Reid opened his mouth. "If you have something better to do, I don't mind talking to one of your colleagues. I merely wanted a person of authority for the deal we just made. I also want you to know that I'm calling my attorney if you try the good cop-bad cop technique on me. Everything I have read suggests that technique doesn't work well with people who have legal counsel. And I have not actually made my one phone call yet."
Hotch was surprised. The man on the other side of the table – the one wearing the handcuffs – was proactive but not aggressive. "You appear to be well informed of your rights."
Reid gave a slightly embarrassed look. "I can recite the Nevada State law, the original Constitution, the Bill of Rights and the subsequent amendments, you only have to ask. I can also recite the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.
"You're eighteen," Hotch observed.
"I have nearly finished my second doctorate and I have one BA," Reid said in the same voice.
"Do you like your mother?" Hotch asked.
Reid hesitated. "I love my mother."
That statement, including the hesitation, sent off warning bells in Hotch's head.
"You don't like her?" Hotch asked.
Reid gave Hotch a considering look. "Do you have an annoying little brother that you don't always like, but love no matter what? Did you like your parents even when you were fighting, although you did probably love them?" Reid looked shocked at what he had said. "I don't mean to bring up anything, I am just trying to put things in perspective. I love my mother and I always have."
"You use the present tense," Hotch observed back. He couldn't really say that Reid was incorrect in making nuances between 'love' and 'like', though.
Reid gave a shrug which just screamed 'helpless' or 'lost'. "I haven't even been allowed to see her body. Can you please get on with your questions?" He looked tired. "Sorry."
"Your mother was ill." Hotch ignored Reid's request.
"My mother had an illness," Reid corrected. "Saying that she was ill implies that's all she was."
Hotch officially decided this man liked linguistic nuances and he was nearly obsessive-compulsive in his pursuit of them. "She had an illness, then."
Reid was silent for a moment. "You can add to your circumstantial counter-evidence that I have made arrangements for her to be admitted in a hospital for next week."
Hotch raised an eyebrow. "Circumstantial counter-evidence?"
Reid nodded. "Sure. If there is counter-evidence and circumstantial evidence, surely there must be such a thing as circumstantial counter-evidence."
Hotch hated to admit that made sense.
"Did you hate her for her illness?" Hotch asked. "It would be understandable."
Reid gave Hotch a very sharp look and when he spoke, his voice was low and there was a warning in his voice. "SAC Hotchner," he spoke, "I will warn you. Pursuing this line of questioning will bring you dangerously close to insulting my mother, who is dead. Don't play games with me. I love my mother, regardless of how her illness affected her."
Hotch chose to heed the warning – for now.
"Did you kill her?"
"Finally getting to the point, are we?" Reid muttered under his breath. He looked up and met Hotch's eyes. "No, I did not kill my mom, Diana Reid. Nor did I kill anyone else. And I hope you find the person that did."
"Okay," Hotch acknowledged. "How did her illness affect your situation?"
"I took care of her, instead of the other way around," Reid said matter-of-factly. "Before my father left, her illness wasn't that bad, but after that it was worse. I hired a nurse when I went to college."
"How old were you when you went to college?" Hotch hadn't had the change to read the man's file.
"Twelve," Reid spoke. "And my father left when I was ten, but I have already told you that."
"Why did you choose to have her admitted?" Hotch was curious.
A look of something flashed across Reid's face – shame, perhaps, or guilt? Interesting. "I thought it was better."
"You don't think so anymore." It was a statement.
"I'm not sure," Reid admitted. "If she was the target or trigger for these murders, then it could have given the perpetrator a timeline."
Hotch had to agree with him, although he didn't show it. "Why do you think your mother was the original target?"
Reid gave Hotch a look that was almost amused. "Because you do." At Hotch's look, he elaborated. "I'm here, and I don't get the impression that anyone else is."
That, too, was true. Hotch found he could have liked the other man – under different circumstances.
However, it was also slightly disturbing. "You find that amusing." Statement.
Reid shrugged. "I find your tactics amusing. They would probably work on most guilty people. However, the fact that I am not guilty of murder and that I'm not most people makes that irrelevant."
Hotch raised an eyebrow. "I didn't take you to be arrogant." And he hadn't, honestly.
Reid gave Hotch a considering look. "I already deducted you hadn't read my file. Shall I give you a general idea what you would find in there?"
Hotch gave a severely unimpressed look. "Do your worst."
Reid shrugged. "Okay. My father walked out on us when I was 10. I also finished elementary school at 10, but I spent more time in the library than in the classroom. Teachers didn't like my presence because I would correct them if they were incorrect or incomplete. I graduated from high school at twelve, went to Caltech, and graduated with a double major at 16, in Mathematics and Chemistry. At 17, I got a Bachelor's Degree in Engineering and a doctorate in Mathematics. I am nearly finished with my doctorate in Engineering. I have read every book in the Las Vegas Public Library and about a third of the books in Millikan. I plan to get a doctorate in Chemistry next, and then I think I'll go to Yale to study Psychology and Sociology. I think I'll be finished with those by twenty-one.
"Most people don't graduate with a double major at 16 and don't have a doctorate at 17. Most people don't manage to care for their mo –" Reid's breath hitched. "Most children don't manage to care for an ill parent the way I did when they were ten years old and keep CPS away at the same time. I don't think it's arrogance that I say I'm not most people. I'm not saying I'm better, just that I don't fit the usual picture." Reid shrugged. "Correct me if I'm wrong, because I would really like to hear just how I would have fit the picture of the usual happy-go-lucky ten-year-old."
Hotch had to give it to Reid – he was right. "Okay, so you're not most people. What does that make you?"
Reid looked thrown aback, but gave a slightly defiant look. "Pass. Next question."
Again, Hotch raised an eyebrow. "You pass." He sounded slightly incredulous and severely unimpressed.
"Yes," Reid nodded empathically. "I pass. Because the answer to that question would not be helpful for your investigation and I even though you are a psychologist, I have had enough mandatory counseling sessions in my life to be severely bored by them."
Apparently Hotch's surprise showed on his face.
"You're from the BAU. The BAU requires a degree in psychology. So, you have studied psychology."
It was silent for a few moment. Then Reid spoke again. "Can I get something to eat? I haven't eaten since breakfast and I'm craving caffeine."
Hotch answered he would get Reid something and left the room.
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It appeared that Morgan and Dave had arrived from the crime scene while Hotch was with Reid. They were all watching Reid through the screen.
Prentiss looked at Hotch. "Garcia is working on William Reid and his lovers," she said.
Hotch nodded. "Keep me informed."
"Thought of offering him a job, Aaron?" Dave commented. "He'd make a good profiler."
"He's eighteen," Hotch sighed. "Do you have a file on him?"
"You're not saying you wouldn't offer him a job if he was older." Dave sounded smug.
Prentiss pressed a file in Hotch's hands. "The file. Garcia is working on CPS," she commented.
Hotch nodded. "Good. Morgan, get him some food. Prentiss, bring him coffee. I want to see how he reacts to women." He paused for a moment. "Dave, what did the crime scene show?"
As Prentiss and Morgan went to their tasks, Dave reported some details about the crime scene.
Through the screen, Hotch saw Prentiss entering the interrogation room. "I have coffee," she said.
Reid gave a grateful smile. "Thanks. I haven't had caffeine in hours."
"You like coffee, then?" Prentiss gave a flirtatious smile.
Reid didn't appear to notice. "Yeah, I drink a lot of it."
"He doesn't connect on an emotional level," Rossi observed. "Only on an intellectual level. He can't make small talk, but it's not because he makes people uncomfortable."
Hotch nodded. "He's oblivious," he supplied.
"That he is," Rossi agreed. "I'd say he's never been on a date in his life."
Hotch gave Rossi an incredulous look. "Dave, he's eighteen."
Rossi looked at Hotch. "My point exactly. Adults are too old and he doesn't connect with people his own age."
"You have a point," Hotch said quietly. "I don't think he did it."
Dave looked at Reid again. "I think he can be a master manipulator when he likes to be. The question is, is he using those skills now or not?"
Hotch noticed Reid and Prentiss were now talking in another language – Arabic, perhaps?
Rossi snorted. "I think Prentiss is teaching him something. And the guy doesn't even notice she's trying to flirt, he just thinks the lesson is interesting."
Hotch had to agree with that.
After about fifteen minutes, Morgan entered with Chinese food in his hands. Hotch noticed Reid immediately stiffened and looked at Morgan warily. "He's afraid," Dave observed.
Hotch nodded. "Morgan isn't even trying to be terrifying. He's looming, but not really doing something."
When Morgan suggested Reid eat, Reid immediately started eating.
"Abusive household?" Hotch supplied.
Rossi shrugged. "Could be."
When Prentiss suggested they leave, Reid was obviously trying not to look too relieved.
"Is there any Chinese left?" Hotch asked Morgan. "I'd like to go in again, but it will probably make him uncomfortable if he's the only one eating."
Morgan shook his head. "Sorry."
Hotch made an acknowledging gesture. "Prentiss, what were the two of you talking about?"
Prentiss snorted. "His whole behavior was an insult to my flirting skills. He asked whether I was a relative of Ambassador Prentiss, and when I said I was her daughter, he asked about my language skills. Apparently he knew some of my mother's postings. Well, he can read and listen in Arabic, but he can't speak it. I was correcting his pronunciation."
Hotch nodded and continued observing Reid. "He's terrified of you," he nodded to Morgan.
Morgan nodded. "I noticed. I didn't do anything, though. He immediately started eating when I asked him whether or not he liked Chinese."
Then Hotch started reading Reid's file while Dave, Morgan and Prentiss discussed the profile.
After twenty minutes, Hotch went in again. He took two cups of coffee with him, noticing Reid had finished his.
"Here you are," Hotch said quietly when he put the cup of coffee before Reid.
He then noticed that Reid wasn't cuffed.
"Who released you from your cuffs?" Hotch said a little angrily.
Reid looked up guiltily. "It's easier to eat when you have both hands," he said. "So I freed myself. You can put it back on if you want to. If I was planning an escape, I would have pretended it was still on."
Hotch sighed. "I'll re-cuff you when I leave."
"Thanks." Reid looked oddly grateful.
Hotch then questioned Reid on his alibi's at the time of the murders.
Victim one: "I was at the seventh floor of the Millikan Library, navigating the shelves. I was there from thirteen past one to four forty-nine. I should be on the security camera's when I entered and exited the building."
Victim two: "Do you want to know? I don't think you can check it." After receiving an affirming response, Reid spoke again. "I was working on some papers in my dorm, and after that, I was sleeping. I missed dinner. It's theoretically possible to go from Pasadena to Vegas in three hours and forty-nine minutes by car, but I don't have one. So no, I don't have an alibi you can confirm."
Reid was just about to get started on Victim Three when Rossi barged in. "You didn't tell us your mother was abusive," Rossi spoke.
"Dave, what?" Hotch gave Dave an angry look, apparently not pleased with the interruption.
Ignoring Hotch, Dave continued talking. "I got your CPS reports. And while we were at it, we also found your medical records."
Reid had stiffened a little. "Dates?"
Dave handed a list to Reid.
"I'm not going to discuss these events with you. I will say that none of these injuries were caused by Diana Reid. I will repeat that under oath, if that is needed."
Apparently, that was not enough.
"None of these were caused by your mother? What about your mother's illness, then?" Dave said angrily. Hotch wondered what would happen now – he did remember Reid's warning not to speak ill of his mother.
Reid just gave Dave an ultimately blank look and didn't say anything. When Dave looked to be about to continue speaking, Hotch decided that it was enough. He was already standing, and now stepped stand between Reid and Rossi. "Dave, out."
Rossi apparently didn't plan on doing so and opened his mouth.
"No, Dave. Out." Hotch was only a few centimeters longer than Rossi was, but used that to his full advantage.
Reid was staring blankly. "I'm sorry about that," Hotch said sincerely apologetic.
Reid was silent for a few minutes. Then he started talking in a very flat voice. "David Rossi only sees the answer he likes most and refuses to acknowledge any other possibilities. Have you read "Deviance"? He doesn't reference Freud once, not even to refute his theories. You can't just pretend theories don't exist if you don't like them. And given the similarities between narcissism and an Oedipal complex, that's just inexcusable."
Wait a minute. Similarities between narcissism and an Oedipal complex? Hotch was curious, and he was glad Reid was, at least, talking. "What do you mean by those similarities?"
"Liking your- liking a parent is liking yourself, in a way. Genotype and all that. I'm done talking." Reid continued to say just as flatly, emotionlessly, and he rested his head on the table.
Hotch knew, really knew he had to recuff the man, and he couldn't be more sorry for it. "Dr. Reid?" When there was no response, he tried it again. "Dr. Reid?"
Hotch stood and walked to Reid and tapped him on the shoulder. Reid's head shot up and he glared at Hotch.
"I'm sorry," Hotch said sincerely apologetic, both for startling the young man and for what he had to do. "Left or right wrist?"
Reid held up his left wrist in resignation.
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Reid did not sleep that night, that Hotch could see on the footage from the camera. The next morning, he didn't talk much either. Hotch noted that ever since David Rossi had stormed in and accused Reid's mother of child abuse, the only thing Reid had said about himself was "I'm done talking". Everything else was said as a statistic. When Hotch asked Reid what he wanted for breakfast, Reid's answer was an estimate on how long a human body could go without food or water.
Hotch recognized it for the defensive technique it was. He wasn't given anything away that could be used against him on an emotional level.
Hotch got Reid sandwiches and coffee, anyway. Reid drank all of the coffee, but only nibbled at the sandwiches. All attempts to engage Reid in a conversation failed.
There was a knock on the door, which then was opened. Melanie Grint walked in. She barely glanced at Hotch before touching Reid's shoulder worriedly. "Doc, you're not feeling well. Total shut-down." She glared at Hotch. "What did you do to him? Never mind, get him a hot washcloth, a blanket, a pitcher of water and lot of coffee. And make sure it gets warmer in here." When Hotch didn't immediately move into action, her glare intensified. "Now."
Instead, Hotch walked to the one-way window and signaled for the unseen people at the other side to do what the lawyer had asked. Then he pushed a few buttons to up the heath.
"What's going on?" Hotch asked somewhat concerned.
The attorney frowned. "He's shut down. Likely a combination from a lack of sleep, a lack of caffeine, lack of warmth and an emotional trigger. What happened?" Hotch noticed she kept tracing a small circle on Reid's upper arm.
"One of my agents stormed in yesterday evening and accused Reid of lying about his mother not abusing him. After that, he stopped talking about himself, but he was still responsive. He talked about Freud, but the only time when he used the word "I" was when he said he was done talking. When I asked him what he wanted for breakfast, he told me how long a human can go without water or food. He drank his coffee, nibbled at his sandwich and stopped responding." Hotch frowned.
The attorney nodded. "Combination of an acute stress reaction and a panic attack. Accusing someone's beloved mother of abusing him when she hasn't been dead for more than twenty-four hours and he hasn't seen the body yet isn't a good idea under usual circumstances. Doing it in a cold interrogation room while simultaneously accusing said person of murder? Not a good idea."
The door opened and two police officers walked in with water, coffee, a bowl of water with a washcloth, and a blanket. They were directed by Melanie Grint's glare to put the things on the table and then directed by said glare to get the hell out. Hotch noted that she was even more effective with her glares than he was.
Grint frowned. "Uncuff him," she said. "I hadn't noticed he was still cuffed."
Hotch did so.
Grint wrapped the blanket around Reid, making sure to tuck his hands by his sides, and gently washed his face. Reid shivered. "Good job, Ten," she spoke encouragingly. Her other hand was still tracing a circle on Reid's upper arm. Sensory stimulation? Hotch wondered how often the lawyer had done this before – she seemed to know what worked and what didn't.