Lewiston, New York
"We are looking for a white male in his late thirties." SSA Emily Prentiss told the officers in the conference room. "He either lives here in Lewiston, or grew up here and has recently returned specifically to carry out these crimes as a means of retribution for a wrong which he perceives as have been committed no less than twenty years ago which he has held on to and resented ever since."
"Given that each of his victims so far has been part of a click many of you might know as 'the Untouchables', we believe that this resentment is directed primarily at them, but this retribution is meant for the entire town; most likely regarding the suicide of Christine Larson." SSA Jennifer Jareau continued.
Emily noted that several of the officers, including Sheriff Harold Dustman, flinched at the mention of Tina Larson. Obviously they knew her and remembered the incident. Was their reaction because it was unpleasant memory, or was there more to it than that? Was it possible that some of them or even all of them knew something about her death that wasn't put on any official record?
"I can understand that this guy has some kind of beef with Lewiston and is trying to punish us by taking out our town leadership for some insane reason," Dustman interjected, "but what does that have to do with Tina Larson?"
"That's what we need to find out." Simmons replied.
"Tina committed suicide by hanging herself. Each of the victims was hanged. Our UnSub is doing to them as she did to herself, and making sure they strangle and suffer so they die with a taste of whatever suffering she endured." Lewis added.
"It's likely that he either became withdrawn from the town or even left it altogether shortly after her death." Rossi commented.
"There's also a strong possibility he was always something of an outcast or at the very least nearly invisible in the community." JJ added. "He may also be holding on to a grudge against the town heroes and the privilege and recognition they enjoyed which he never got."
"The actions he's taking now are partly to get recognition that he never received, but we believe it's even more important that whatever wrong against Tina he thinks took place be exposed." Simmons said.
The way Matt worded that pleased Emily; he didn't say the town did something to Tina Larson. That would have shut down any hope of cooperation from law enforcement or the locals. Instead, the statement was worded so that it could all be about some delusion on the UnSub's part. Based on the briefing the team had just before delivering their profile, it was clear that neither Simmons nor JJ believed there was any delusion, but throwing around an accusation of a conspiracy would not have helped their effort. Personally, Emily agreed with them. If they were going to get the town to open up about whatever was going on, though, they would have to be very gentle. This was made all the more true since apparently Barnes was breathing down their necks again. The team could not afford any missteps.
As the crowd began to disperse after the profile delivery was complete, Dustman and a deputy approached the team.
"Excuse me, Agent Prentiss?" Dustman asked to draw her attention. "About that Profile? The person you're describing sounds an awful lot like Philip Curtis. He was part of the same graduating class as Evans, Cunningham, and Bernstein, but definitely not part of the Untouchable crowd. If anything, he was just the opposite."
"What do you mean by that?"Alvez asked.
"Well," Dustman started his reply, "he was always a real trouble maker; a real malcontent. He had a real attitude problem. For as long as I can recall he was always into that Punk Rock and Heavy Metal scene; tattoos, piercings, weird hairstyles, and a real antisocial type. One thing is for sure, he had no love for this town and nothing but contempt for the way we do things around here. He left Lewiston the day after graduation."
"Do you have any idea where he went?" Prentiss asked.
"Sure I do." Dustman relied. "He may have been a bad seed, but he isn't stupid. Rumor has it he spent most if not all of his graduating year setting himself up with an apprenticeship with a tattoo parlor down in Buffalo. Now he runs his own shop; makes a pretty good living off it, too."
"I was just telling the Sheriff that I saw his car cruising by Cunningham's yesterday morning." The Deputy added. "Right around the time we were taping off the crime scene. I'm not sure when he actually got into town, but Buffalo is just a short drive away; it wouldn't be too hard to arrange transportation between both places and make it appear like you showed up after the first crimes."
"Do you know where he is now?"
"We know he's staying at the Motel 6 that's run by 'Topher Larson." Dustman answered. "I can take a car there now to bring him in."
Prentiss nodded. This was good; Christopher aka 'Topher Larson was also a person of interest. Now they had two of them clustered together which made for less legwork. "Agents Rossi, Simmons, and Jareau will go with you."
In his supply shed behind his home, he picked up the annual marked '1998' and flipped it open to the start of the headshot pages of the graduating class. He then flipped through those pages until he found the picture he was looking for; Stan Evans. With a red felt tip marker, he scratched the face out with an 'X' and then skipped ahead to the team photo and took his time looking at the shot of the legendary football team of the year; the one that won three consecutive State Championships. It was the same team that the four so-called Untouchables were on. Three were now proven to be Touchable, after all. That left one of the four; and of course him. He could not forget the coward. He was starting to wonder if the coward really needed to die; maybe just brushing up with death and then suffering with the stark knowledge of why would be enough. He hadn't decided yet. That was why the coward would be last.
As for Mr. Public Defender Eric Chapman went, well first he would be allowed to make sure that the Macintyre's and Dayton were in the clear. Dayton wasn't even born yet when it all started; his only crime was in having bad taste in mentors. Peter and Ellen didn't hurt Tina; nor were they involved in what followed. They were ignorant of the level of injustice that took place. He was sorry that they were about to get a huge and unpleasant wake-up call, but it was an unfortunate necessity if justice was to prevail. He knew the Feds were here, and was very much aware they would discover the truth; he was counting on it, in fact. They simply arrived sooner than he anticipated; that meant he had to act quicker than he would have liked...
There was a buzzing and the light above the door flashed on and off to indicate the buzzer at the front desk was being engaged. He had to attend to whatever he was being summoned to. Closing up the annual, he put it away and formed a smile on his face as he left the shed and went back into the Motel 6 through the back door of his home.
SSA's Rossi, Jareau, and Simmons arrived at the Motel 6 where Philip Curtis was staying during his visit in Lewiston. At the front desk, a woman in her late thirties waited to greet them; her name tag revealed her name to be Theresa.
"Will that be three rooms?" Theresa asked with just the right cheer and warmth mixed with professional courtesy.
All three agents revealed Identifications. "FBI," Rossi announced. "Agents Rossi, Jareau, and Simmons; we'd like to inquire about one of your guests. Can you direct us to the room of Philip Curtis, please?"
"We'd also like to speak to Christopher Larson as soon as he's available." JJ added.
Theresa looked at them with an expression of stunned blankness for a moment. "One moment, please." She said, and then she pushed a buzzer button on the desk. "My husband is just out back doing some maintenance. I'm sure he'll be right here. Do you mind if I ask what this is about?"
"We'd just like to ask him a few simple questions." Simmons replied reassuringly. "Now, about Mr. Curtis...?"
"I think I saw him pull out of the driveway in his Mustang about fifteen minutes ago." Theresa Larson answered. "I guessed he went out for some breakfast."
"Do you or your husband know Philip?" JJ asked. "Did you maybe go to school with him?"
"'Topher might have; I didn't. I'm actually from Long Island, originally." Theresa answered. "What's going on here? Is he in some kind of trouble?"
"It's just a few questions, ma'am." Rossi replied gently. "When he left, did Philip seem agitated or upset, would you happen to have noticed?"
Theresa shrugged. "It's hard to say. I've seen guys like him before; he looks like the type o'guy who's always unhappy about something, y'know?"
Simmons nodded. "I think we do." He said.
A man in coveralls ambled through a door behind and to the right of the front desk with a push broom in one hand. He turned his bald head at the broom and scrunched his nose at it as he set it aside before turning to his wife and the team with a professional looking smile. The patch on the right front pocket said 'Topher.
"Is there something I can help you folks with?" 'Topher Larson asked.
"Hon, this is Agents Rossi, Simmons, and Jareau." Theresa answered. They say they wanna ask you and Phil Curtis something. They're with the FBI."
'Topher's expression changed to one of concerned interest as he produced a cloth from his back pocket and used it to wipe down his hands. Was that expression belying a hint of worry? Or was it just curiosity? Rossi couldn't quite tell for sure.
"FBI, you say?" Larson asked as he approached, offering his hand to Rossi. "We don't get a visit from you guys everyday! What is it I can do for you?"
p class="MsoNormal""Would it be possible to talk someplace a little more private?" Rossi asked.
'Topher Larson stood silent a moment, and then told them they could go into his office; not once losing his awkward little smile. It was exactly the kind of grin that a small town motel manager should have; it pleaded the precisely kind of blissful ignorance that anyone would expect. Which was exactly why Rossi didn't buy it; it was too picture perfect to be anything but practiced. As 'Topher led them to his office, Rossi glanced at Simmons and JJ; it was clear that they caught on to what was wrong with 'Topher's too perfect smile, too.
"First, let me thank you for taking the time to speak with us." Rossi started.
"No problem at all; if you think I can help." Larson replied.
"We understand that Philip Curtis is staying here?" Simmons continued.
"Yeah," Larson replied, "in unit seven. But I think he left to get himself some breakfast. What about it?"
"Would you have any idea where he would go to eat?" JJ asked.
Larson shrugged. "I'd imagine he'd go where most guests go." He said. "That would be over at the Niagara Diner. It's really popular with people from out of town. Lots of locals like it, too; I guess that's why so many recommend it." He laughed lightly.
Agent Simmons turned and left the office; making his way through the motel lobby and outside where Sheriff Dustman waited. Matt would then ask Dustman to take him to the Niagara Diner where Philip might be.
"How well do you know Mr. Curtis?" Rossi asked. "Does he come by here often?"
"I went to school with him about twenty years ago." Larson replied. "We got along okay, I guess. Really, though, it was him and my sister that were close. They dated up until just before the end of '97."
"You mean your sister Christine." JJ confirmed.
"Tina, yes" 'Topher answered. "We were twins, see; that's how people around here differentiated us since we were both 'Chris' otherwise."
"You say Philip and Tina dated until near the end of 1997." Rossi said, getting them back on the track he wanted. "How was their split?"
"She broke up with him." Larson replied haltingly. "Dating Phil was kind of a phase thing. She wanted to get away from the 'bad boy' in her graduating year."
"How did he take that?" JJ asked.
For a second or two 'Topher looked bewildered; and then his eyes suggested that something clicked into place. "If you're thinking he had something to do with her suicide, you're way off." He said. "He might look like a badass, but the way I remember it he was all bark and no bite. But to answer your question, as far as I know he took it about as well as any guy could."
Philip Curtis certainly was a sight to see, SSA Matt Simmons noted as he and Sherriff Harold Dustman entered the Niagara Diner. The Sherriff pointed him out as soon as they came in. The first thing Simmons noticed was his hair. If he had done it up, it would be a bicycle spoke Mohawk; jet black with blood red tips. As it was now, it was hanging limply around his head; not quite hiding elaborate tattoos on his scalp, which were the next most obvious feature of Philip Curtis. He was covered in ink. Also of note, Curtis had multiple piercings. When they arrived, Philip Curtis was digging into what looked like the perfect Eggs Benedict, served with a cup of black coffee and a glass of orange juice.
"Sorry to interrupt your breakfast, Philip." Dustman said once they got to his table.
Philip looked up, scoffed, and went back to his eggs. "Sheriff," he said between bites. "What do you suppose I can do for you?"
"Actually, I'd like to introduce you to someone." Dustman replied, indicating Simmons. "This is Special Agent Simmons of the FBI."
Simmons flashed his credentials as Philip looked up. It appeared to Matt that they now had his undivided attention.
"You really did get caught flat-footed." He said to Dustman. "But hey; when you call for back-up, you don't mess around."
"I see you haven't changed a bit." Dustman retorted. "Nobody at the reunion tomorrow night will have any trouble identifying you."
Curtis rolled his eyes to show his disdain. "Look, Dustman, I know you aren't here on a social call. What do you and your Fed buddy want, anyway?"
"We'd like to ask you a few questions, Mr. Curtis." Simmons said.
"Then go ahead and ask. It's not like I don't know what you're gonna ask me about." Curtis said quickly. "In fact, I'll save you some trouble. I didn't have anything to do with the deaths of Bernstein, Cunningham, or Evans. I'll even go so far as to admit that I'm not exactly sorry they're dead, but I had nothing to do with it."
"That's a likely story." Dustman said. Simmons gently put a hand up to silence both of them before things escalated.
"I appreciate your willingness to talk with us, Mr. Curtis. How about we go to the station so we can talk a little more privately?" Simmons suggested.
Philip Curtis opened his mouth to make some other smart remark, but looking in Simmons eyes, he seemed to think better of it. Instead, he slammed back his orange juice, wiped his mouth with the back of his tattooed left hand and slowly got to his feet.
Before JJ, Rossi, and Simmons left to find Curtis, BAU Unit Chief Emily Prentiss gathered that Philip Curtis was often in trouble with the law in Lewiston while he lived here. The way it was told, he was a bad seed as a kid; not stupid, but completely detached and unmotivated from any sense of community. The way she was told, Philip was a perpetual malcontent; everyone was a little surprised he made it all the way to graduation, and apparently nobody was particularly upset when left town right after. It seemed to everyone's best guess that the only reason he was here now was for the reunion.
She had Garcia look into him; what she found was incongruous. Philip Curtis had no criminal record worth mentioning; a couple of speeding tickets, that sort of thing. There was one dropped assault charge when he was juvenile, but that charge was dropped after Tina Larson insisted he wasn't the one who assaulted her. Apparently he left Lewiston and took an apprenticeship at a tattoo parlor, and now runs his own shop called Ink, Inc.
They would have to wait until after the interview, but Prentiss had her doubts about whether Philip Curtis was their UnSub. From what Simmons said once they picked him up, he was starting to seem like the locals were ready to put this on him based on some stereotype they had of him that didn't match their idea of what a community should look like. Granted, he did seem to have something of a chip on his shoulder, but wasn't offering much resistance. Knowing that Simmons and Dustman were on their way with Curtis now, Prentiss had arranged for Lewis and Alvez to interview him; her idea was to keep changing faces in front of him in order to throw off any sort of routine he might think has been established; someone as organized and patient as this UnSub had demonstrated to be might be put on edge with so much change occurring so rapidly. It was also Lewis's working theory that the utter lack of a cooling off period wasn't so much a spree as it was either part of the UnSub's plan or that their presence forced him to speed things up.
Simmons and Dustman entered the building, escorting Philip directly into the interview room that had been selected. Also, JJ and Rossi were returning from their talk with Christopher Larson.
The moment the Federal Agents left his office, the practiced smile that 'Topher used when dealing with guests melted away from his face. He should have guessed that that idiot Dustman would point them to Curtis; that's what people in this town did. The fact that Philip Curtis might just be mouthy enough to ultimately frame himself wasn't the problem. 'Topher would have been fine with that. The problem was that the Feds would have him in custody much too soon for his plan to work. The way he saw it, he really only had one option; he'd have to call Eric Chapman and hope he could get that mouthy coward out of custody long enough for the whole game to play out.
He'd have to make himself sound convincing. Eric would expect him to sound worried about his friend. 'Topher cleared his throat to make ready his concerned voice. Then he dialed Eric Chapman's business line, bearing in mind that he could not let on that he knew anything about that scumbag's involvement with what really happened to Tina or the cover up in order to protect the oh-so-precious winning football team.
Eric Chapman, Public Defender, barged into the Sheriff's office just as Dr. Tara Lewis and SSA Luke Alvez were about to enter the interview room. It seemed to Eric that he responded to 'Topher's call just in time. That was good news; it meant that he could take preventative action rather than having to mitigate whatever damage Phil Curtis might have already caused.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen" Eric announced his presence. "I will ask you all to postpone any interviews or discussion with Philip Curtis until I have had a chance to confer with my client."
"He hasn't been arrested yet." Harry Dustman countered. "And how'd you even know we had him in custody in the first place? He hasn't even asked for a phone call."
"An associate of his called and requested my assistance on his behalf." Eric answered. "Apparently he's concerned that law enforcement and the FBI may be trying to railroad Mr. Curtis for crimes he did not commit. As I recall, it wouldn't be the first time that has happened."
"Wait, what's that supposed to mean?" SSA Jennifer Jareau asked.
"I'm sure that by now your team has already looked into Mr. Curtis' background and knows the answer to that question." Eric replied, almost indifferently. "Now, if you will excuse me I have a client to confer with; in private."Eric proceeded to the interview room where Philip was waiting, knowing full well there was very little anyone could do to stop him. What felt best about this whole scenario was the knowledge that as little as the punk-rock wanna-be liked him, Philip Curtis now needed Eric Chapman if he wanted even a chance of not spending the rest of his miserable life behind bars doing prison ink instead of the garbage he was doing now.
"What the hell are you doing in here?" Curtis asked as Eric came into the room.
"Believe it or not, Curtis, you actually have friends in this town." Eric answered. "One of them even called me to make sure you got treated fairly. Now whatever differences you and I might have, it is my job and I am a professional. I'm certainly professional enough to set our differences aside for the time being in the interest of justice."
Philip Curtis leaned forward, crossed his hands left over right on the table to reveal the tattoos that ran across his knuckles:
STR8 on the left
EDGE on the right
"I'll bet even you can see the irony in that, Chapman." Curtis said with his typically glib tone. "They haven't said it in so many words, but it's pretty obvious they think I killed your boys, and now you're gonna prove that I didn't. I'd think you'd have let me rot thinking that you'd save your own ass in the process."
"Did you kill Kyle, Kenny, and Stan?" Eric asked.
"No, I did not."
"Then letting you take the fall would accomplish nothing." Eric pointed out plainly. "In fact, if I were to let you go down, then the real killer would be free and I would still be in danger; if anything, I'd only be helping the real killer get away with it. Besides, as it stands now the burden of proof is on them, not us. Also, I should be clear here; I'm currently under no obligation to do anything. That is entirely up to you. If you'd rather try to take on the cops and the Feds all by yourself, you can. The choice is yours."
Philip was silent a moment as he considered his options. Finally he sat up straight again and asked what they were going to do. Eric nodded and advised him that he made the right choice; and that if they handled this right Philip would be out the door in time for a late lunch.
While Lewis and Alvez waited for Chapman and Curtis to finish so they could start their interview, Prentiss stepped aside to give Garcia a call. Moments later, she was back with Lewis and Alvez.
"It turns out that assault against Tina Larson that the local police tried to pin on Curtis was a actually a rape." Prentiss told them. "Larson insisted it wasn't him, so the charges against Curtis were dropped."
"So who committed the rape?" Lewis asked.
"The case went unsolved." Prentiss replied. "All Garcia could find was that after an extensive interview involving then Sheriff Brian Cunningham, Councillor Joshua Bernstein, and even Mayor Andrew Chapman, she eventually managed to come up with a description of a man whom authorities believed fled across the border into Canada and was never seen nor heard from again."
"I know I'm not the only one that sees the parallel in the names here." Alvez commented. "The only one missing is Evans."
"Stan Evans was raised by a single mother." Prentiss answered. "His father left when Stan was four, and his relationship with his mother was strained to say the least; he buried himself in sports to get away from her authoritarian ways. There's one more thing; Eric Chapman was also one of the Untouchables on the '96-'98 football team."
"I get it." Alvez said. "Kenny, Kyle, and Eric were literally untouchable in this town, and they brought Stan along for the ride because of his athleticism."
"That's certainly what it looks like." Lewis agreed. "Or it could be that they latched onto him because he was a big winning play maker, and then he took advantage of the privilege they enjoyed. In any case, what we have here is a guy who was always on the outside. Maybe he wanted some payback." She said, indicating Curtis.
"But then there's the irony of Chapman stepping forward to defend his would be assailant." Prentiss pointed out. "I can't help but think maybe Chapman knows something we don't."
"That's possible." Alvez agreed. "At the very least he doesn't buy that Philip is the UnSub. On the other hand Chapman might just be a consummate professional."
"Well, whatever the case may be, it looks like Mr. Chapman and Mr. Curtis is just about ready for us." Lewis pointed at the pair through the window. The microphones were turned off so they could talk privately. It really did look like they were done their conference; and that impression was confirmed when Eric Chapman, Public Defender, peered over his shoulder at the mirror with a kind of smirk on his face.
"We're up." Alvez said, taking the lead into the interview room.