Disclaimer: see previous chapters. Too tired to come up with one.
Author's Note: I'm not a science major/genius/expert. I've tried to stick to reality as much as my own research and questioning of professionals has allowed. So, please, just take it with a grain of salt. This chapter answers a lot of questions and reveals the true nature of the crime and the killer; I want to say that I am not some sick person devoted to this kind of 'expermentation' or anything like that. The idea revolts me that it could ever possibly be done. This idea came to me in a history class a year and a half ago and I thought it would be more original slant to a crime/killer. Anyone who can figure out what the nature of the killer is before the end when it's revealed is a smart cookie and wins. Also, I know they told us what Charlie's fav. color was, but I don't think Don's was ever mentioned and everyone read the Treasure Island when they were little, or know of it. Charlie's back, and here to stay, so I hope that pleases you-- ;) I know you were waiting for it. Also, thanks for the wonderful comments... It's so nice to know that you guys care.
"I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign"
-Ace of Base-
"That's not possible," Peyton stated, shaking her head emphatically as she leaned against the table. "That cannot be what it is."
Kathryn looked at her with a mixture of astonishment and indignation on her face. "Are you doubting me now?" She responded humorously.
Peyton shook her head at her friend again; she had not meant it like that. "No. You know I have the utmost faith in what you do. You have gotten rather good at it over the years," she gave her friend a sly grin. "But methylthionine chloride? That's too common for us to miss and not pick up on for this long."
Kathryn nodded and leaned over the table to the tan microscope. Adjusting the lens with a few minute turns, she moved back and indicated for her to look. "I know. But I put the trace sample side by side with a normal sample from our stores and that is what it is."
Holding her hair back with one hand, Peyton hovered over the piece of equipment. The dye, more commonly known as methylene blue, stared back at her from under the light. Next to the left slide was the trace sample from the body of David Elium, their third and latest victim. There were slight variations between the two, she noticed, but it definitely was what Kathryn had concluded.
She pulled back, satisfied but still brimming with questions. She crossed her arms and was about to speak, but her words died as Kathryn beat her to it.
"There are two reasons that I've come up with as to why we are just now able to identify the chemical; Daniel agrees with me as well. One," she said while holding up one finger, "We were actually able to lift a true trace sample from the third victim's body. And two," another finger joined the first, "You noticed the slight deviations between the two slides, right? That's because it is there. The dye has been mixed with another. I think it is either methyl blue or methyl violet. That's the reason why the system didn't kick anything out from just the regular report. Once you have it under the slide you can tell what it is, but a hybrid of the two dyes makes it harder for the system to catch it… Especially if we don't have a good sample."
Peyton nodded in agreement. "That makes sense." Her gaze wandered back to the microscope and slides.
"It answers the question as to what it is, but it raises another: why is our killer injecting his victim's with dye? It serves no purpose." Kathryn mused aloud, more to herself than for Peyton's benefit.
Despite not being intended for her, they sparked something in her mind. The wheels began to turn. Methylthionine chloride was used for many things. Mainly in the two fields of chemistry and medicine. However, there was one thing that it had been used for in the past. That had been over sixty years ago, and had not been seen since those dark days. Days in which the cold air was filled with the dying screams of innocent victims. If she was correct, it would be horrible that this use of the dye was not a thing of the past. But she was fairly certain she was correct. She had paid special attention in that class at Yale; for all its morbidity, the scientific part of her mind had been enthralled by the subject. In fact, that particular textbook just so happened to be in her office. 'The fourth shelf up on the black bookcase, second book to the far right.' The more she thought about it, the more it seemed to fit in with everything else about this case. It was like a puzzle with a thousand pieces to it and the puzzler not knowing before hand what the picture was. You couldn't see the entire picture or the big piece until you put all of the smaller pieces together. Only then did everything fall into place. And with that textbook, she feared, everything would fall into place.
Uncrossing her arms, she snapped her fingers and moved out the glass doorway of the room, calling back to the toxicologist as she left, "Unless he's not interested in killing his victims at all. Call a meeting upstairs for ten minutes from now. For everyone if they are all here." It was still early, only 11:30. Perhaps the agents were all still in the building.
"Alright. The McFed said his brother was working on something for us too. Maybe he finished it."
With heavy footsteps she turned a corner and turned the second doorknob, pushing open the door to her office. She didn't bother to turn on the lights, and neither did she pay any attention when the door slammed into the wall. Instead she made straight for the bookcase at the end of her office. 1…2…3…Fourth one up. Peyton ran her fingers across the spines, letting them trail lightly over the glossy covers. Stopping on the one she wanted, her body made a sharp turn towards her desk.
The heavy volume made a dull thudding sound as it landed amongst the wood and papers. The spine cracked easily, splitting down the middle, and she began turning the pages. Faster and faster she went, getting closer to the back of the book and closer to the chapter dealing with the twentieth century. Peyton slowed, switching to letting her fingers skim down the lines. Her eyes flickered from side to side and she thanked whatever powers that be that her brain was capable of reading and processing around eight hundred words a minute.
Her throat caught and the genius momentarily forgot to breath. Peyton had found what she was looking for and as she read and re-read the lines, trying to prove that they were not what she was seeing, she wished they were indeed wrong. For once the genius would have rather of been wrong.
With fingers slightly trembling Peyton grabbed a highlighter from the group of pens and circled the portion of the page that had her lungs constricted and heart chilled. This was wrong. All wrong. It belonged in the past and didn't deserve to be resurrected or brought back. They had worked too hard to see it erased from practical science and medicine. She didn't like the big picture. If she could, she would go back to the smaller one and choose the simple murder route. Unfortunately for her, she couldn't…
They had taken over the conference room. Taken it over completely. Staked a claim, and to his eyes it didn't look like they were planning on relinquishing it anytime soon. At least not until their case was closed and a done deal. With his new findings he hoped he could help them with that. The pictures had been disturbing to say the least and he didn't want a fourth face to be added to his data collection.
Charlie held onto his laptop tightly, looking for somewhere he could set it down without having to worry about never seeing it again or it being subsequently eaten by all the papers that littered the room.
"You can just move those files into that box right there, Charlie," David said from behind his own stack of papers, smiling at the anxious expression he could feel on his face.
The door opened, letting in the noise from the bullpen, and Charlie turned from placing his laptop on the table to see his brother holding it open for Colby and two other people he had never seen before.
"Oh, hey, Charlie," Don offered as a greeting, coming to stand next to him. "What are you doing here? Did you find something already?"
His eyes followed Colby and the other people as they circumnavigated the room, taking seats wherever they could. His natural curiosity took over and he wondered why they were in here. He figured they must be doing something for the case, but they didn't look like FBI agents. The air they carried themselves with was, for lack of better words, an educated and intelligent one, as opposed to a tough and dangerous one. The curly haired genius cleared his throat, hooked the correct cables to the computer and answered with, "Actually I did find something. With the new data you gave me from last night I was able to work through it and I made some discoveries that I think you're going to like."
"Excellent, Charlie. Anything you've got will help," Don said, giving him a warm smile that made him beam on the inside. He loved helping his older brother, something that had not changed over the years, from the time when they were children to now. Don followed his side glance to the still unidentified people, reading the question in his eyes. "Oh. Charlie this is Kathryn Nost and Titus Hatchett; they work with Peyton. Kathryn, Titus, this is my brother, Charlie."
Kathryn gave him a quiet "pleased to meet you, Dr. Eppes" from beside Colby, Titus waving as he said a less formal greeting of "hey". Charlie nodded and responded with a "hello".
The door opened again, admitting the last member of their group. The blonde doctor held a rather thick looking textbook in her hand; turning his head he made out the title: Medical Experimentation: a Look at Human Atrocities throughout History. What was even more disturbing than the title was the lack of awareness in her expression. She seemed lost in her own thoughts, something he knew he did often when he was swept along the tide of his numbers. Her lack of regard for her surroundings became ever more apparent when she took a few steps forward and immediately tripped over one of the boxes in the room. All of their eyes flew to her and his brother stepped forward, grabbing onto her elbow and easing her up before she fell completely.
"Sorry. Apologies for being the last one here," She said, shaking her head as if to clear her mind and bring herself back to reality. Charlie eyed her as Peyton took a seat at the table, Don sitting next to her. He followed the look that passed between the two, wondering, 'When did Don get that close to her? Wasn't he just saying a week ago that he couldn't stand to be around her?'
"We didn't start without you. Charlie was just saying that he found something. Isn't that right, Charlie?" Don swiveled in his chair to face him.
He cleared his throat again. "Right. How your killer is picking and finding his victims has been a mystery to you until now. Coincidentally he is using our own technology against us. With the data from the three victims I went looking for any commonalities between them. However, the amount of data in itself was too large; things like when they woke up and whether they brushed their teeth before or after eating are unimportant. Using data mining…" he took in their confused looks and backtracked, "Data mining sifts large amounts of information and sorts through the data, picking out things that are instrumental and pertinent as it goes along. If you remember, I used it for that home invasion case you had a while back," Don and the other two original members of their team nodded, remembering the case he was referring too; the three others had knowing looks on their faces, clear on what he was talking about. "So, I created an algorithm that went through the three sets of information and found out just how your killer is targeting and finding your victims."
Charlie hit a few keys on his laptop, bringing pictures of the three victims to the screen. He pointed to each as he talked. "All three of your victims are college students. Your first victim, Aaron McCullogh, attended USC. Sofia Friedman was a freshman at UCLA. Your latest victim, David Elium, was a year away from graduating with honors from CSULA."
David shook his head and protested, "But, Charlie, we already know that. It just means that he goes after college students. Young people."
"Yes, but I bet you didn't look into all of the extracurricular activities that the students were a part of. When the algorithm found this I dismissed it earlier, but after looking at it again, I believe it is exactly how your killer is finding his victims," he hit another button, bringing up information underneath the respective pictures. "Aaron McCullogh was participating in a joint study with the Hebrew Union College on the history of Judaism in the Middle East in the twenty first century. Sofia Freidman was an officer of the Jewish Student Union for UCLA. And David Elium was an outspoken activist for the Jewish Muslim movement on his campus," he shook his head again, staring at the faces on the screen. "Your killer has only to visit the websites of the universities to find these people, and with today's technology it's all too easy."
Don nodded. "Right. Good. We already had an idea that he was targeting people with Jewish ancestry or involvement. So he has a vendetta for killing these people."
For the first time since she had first arrived Peyton spoke. "He's not meaning to kill them."
Charlie halted, shocked by her statement. For that matter so was everyone else in the room. Everyone stared at her, confused by her declaration.
Peyton cleared her own throat and repeated herself, louder. "He's not meaning to kill them. Kathryn, explain what you found."
Everyone turned to the auburn haired woman who Don had introduced as Kathryn. Charlie cocked his head to the side, interested in where this was going. "I was able to identify the unknown chemical that has been found in all of our victims. A trace sample was lifted from David Elium's shirt. The chemical is methylthionine chloride mixed slightly with another dye. It's more commonly known as methylene blue, not to be confused with methyl blue. Methylene blue is a dye that is used in a wide range of scientific fields. In chemistry it can be used as a redox indicator and also to test for Ph. As a dye it is used to stain DNA and RNA to see how much nucleic acid is present. It can also be used for many different things in medicine." She finished, looking back at Peyton.
The forensic expert opened the textbook to a page with a circled section in bold yellow. "In 1943 a German medical doctor arrived at the Auschwitz concentration camp in southern Poland. While he was there, Dr. Josef Mengele became known as the Angel of Death as he performed inhumane medical experimentations on the prisoners of the camp," her voice dropped to a low whisper, disgust and revolt dripping from every word. "One such experiment involved injecting methylene blue into the eyes of prisoners in an attempt to change the iris' color to blue. None of them worked. It caused extreme agony and more often they were killed after it failed. He's not meaning to kill them. He's trying to experiment on them and raise a long dead practice that has not been seen for sixty four years. Human experimentation was done long before War World Two. It dates back to ancient times with Ptolemaic kings who dissected their prisoners. It became an almost extinct practice after the crimes committed at Auschwitz. Almost being the key word. Some cases continue to reappear today, one such being the rumors of unethical studies being conducted in North Korea. Our own government even performed experimentations; the CIA was involved with that. However, in light of our victim's missing eyes and such it would appear that our scientist fancies himself as this century's Dr. Mengele."
The room was quiet with her revelation. No one wanted to speak, each trying to digest what she had said. When no one said anything, she continued. "He does not want them to die. He wants to perfect them and wants his experimentations to succeed. My guess is that he killed them afterwards, after it failed. I doubt he regrets the loss of life, only the fact that the dye didn't take. Although Sofia Friedman died from a heart attack induced by the stress of her captivity, the other two died from blood loss from wounds inflicted upon them. The ketamine is used to subdue them. It makes it easier to kidnap them. If given a high enough dosage it also acts as an anesthetic, rendering the person completely unconscious."
It was silent for a few more moments. Charlie was stunned. He knew everything that she was talking about. The Nazi human experimentations committed at the concentration camps and carried out on fellow human beings had been horrendous. It was stunning what had been done in the name of science. This idea of a twenty first century Dr. Mengele was far worse than a serial killer. It was all the more worse that he was experimenting on these people. No…not people. Students… Kids barely old enough to drink. Kids that were the same age as the ones that he taught everyday.
"So, you're telling me that we have an insane doctor who believes in the Aryan idea of a super race, running around somewhere in Los Angeles performing sixty year old human experimentations on college students?" Colby asked, still not believing what was being revealed.
"Yes. That is exactly what I am saying."
"So how do we find this bastard?" Titus growled through a thick southern accent.
"I've got an idea as to where he is, but it's a large area." His brother stood, and moved around, searching through the papers for something. Don picked a few up out of the hundreds, seeming to find the ones that he wanted. "Ah. Here it is. All of our victims have been found along the coast. Near the San Pedro Bay area. Wilmington and Harbor City are all part of the same South Bay area bordering the San Pedro Bay."
"That doesn't necessarily mean that he is in that area. That could mean that the bodies are dumped there. It doesn't mean that he's there."
Don turned to address Peyton's assertion. "No it doesn't. But, a mold native to Asia does. The container ships that come in to dock at the Port of Los Angeles can carry mold transported by rats."
"So? What does that mean for us?" Titus asked, drawling out his words.
"Penicillium marneffei was found on David Elium," Don pointed out on one of the sheets. "It's a mold native to Southeast Asia and is transported by rats. You told me you found that. That means that David Elium had to of contracted it somewhere around the Port and not near Harbor City. But that area around the San Pedro Bay and the Port is a huge area. It would take days and the department's full resources of man power to sweep the entire area. And I doubt he's somewhere in plain sight."
Charlie moved forward, a thought coming to his mind. "Not necessarily. There are only certain areas that he can be in. He's limited to places where he can remain undetected, like you said, and places where he can get the resources that he needs. I can take a look and using probability can determine the likeliest of places that he would be."
"You can do that?" Titus asked.
Colby nodded his head. "He can do that."
"Good, Charlie. Anything you can come up with before this guy takes another person." Don said, rising from his seat to approach him.
Charlie nodded, wanting to help the best he could. He could do this. He could find where this guy was and glancing back at the screen, hopefully keep a fourth from joining the rest.
Don waited, standing in front of her door, holding two white bags and wondering why he was nervous. He was a grown man for God's sakes, and no woman should make him feel this nervous. As a matter of fact, he couldn't remember being this nervous since high school. Swallowing hard, he knocked and opened the door, entering her office.
Peyton was behind her desk, reading something on her monitor. What caught him by surprise as she turned to smile at him was the pair of black glasses perched on her nose. She caught his look and reached up to take them off. "Yeah. My contacts tend to hurt my eyes after glaring at a computer screen for too long. Is that food?" she asked, her nose wrinkling slightly as she sniffed the air.
He grinned, hoping that she would go for it. "Yeah. You did say I could take you out for dinner when we caught a break. I'd say we got a pretty big one today. But, Kathryn said you weren't budging from down here tonight, so I brought it to you."
She stared at him for a moment and he regretted his idea, until she smiled again, rising from her desk. "So, I did. Very creative of you, Agent Eppes. Clever."
The glasses came back on and she motioned towards the couch against the wall. He handed her one of the bags and she peered inside. "A club sandwich on rye? How did you know that's what I eat when I work through the night?"
"A lucky guess?" Peyton raised an eyebrow and he added, "I might have had a little help from a friend of yours."
They were both seated on her couch now. She was relaxed, her feet tucked underneath her on one end. He lounged on the other side.
"Well, it's the thought that counts. And it was nice of you to make sure that I ate." She said, smiling around her dinner.
It was silent for a few more minutes, each of them eating their own respective meals. Neither of them had eaten anything for lunch.
"Favorite color?"
"What?" He asked, confused.
"What is your favorite color? Mine's red. As you can probably tell by looking at the walls." Peyton said, pointing around her office with one hand.
He looked around, noticing for the first time that her office was colored in shades of red, black, and silver. They were warm colors, the red not bright, but darker. More of a burgundy shade. "Navy. Navy blue is mine," he looked back at her. "Book?" He said, going along with their questions to get to know each other.
"Alice in Wonderland."
He burst out laughing and she threw a chip at him, hitting him square in the forehead, crying out in indignation for him to explain "what is so funny".
"No…It's…Uh. I would have thought you would have picked something more scientific. Not a children's story about a girl's adventures with insane made up characters. But, now that you mention it, you do have a grin that looks like the Cheshire Cat's." He picked the chip up from where it had fallen on his shirt and ate it.
"My father used to read it to me. Before I got older and was given more scientific things to read. Besides, what's yours?"
"I used to be a fan of Treasure Island when I was younger, but uh…not anymore"
That Cheshire Cat grin spread over her face before she laughed and said, "Grand adventures and pirates. Isn't that... how did you put it... juvenile?"
They both laughed and Don grinned. His idea had been good and she had gone along with it. As they sat there, playing their game of twenty questions, he couldn't help the fact that despite the looming threat of the neo-Nazi killer he was the happiest he had been for a long time.
Ok, so I spent seven straight hours on my laptop to finish this and get this up before I have to be back at school tomorrow, So kind of please leave me something to know how it is; it's late, and my AP Calculus notebook is damning me from across my room; it wants to know why I haven't studied the Unit Circle.
Also: You guys get to decide on a scene. Without giving too much away, would you rather a) have the scene where the person is attacked or b) have it where the team finds the place and processes the scene. You guys decide and vote on it. E-mail me or leave it in a review. It's up to you; everyone do it, even people not registered here. You just have to hit the button down there. Newgal, don't give it away.. :)