Philip Curtis guffawed as Lewis and Alvez came into the room.
"What the hell is this?" He asked. "Are you trying to throw me off by changing the faces in front me? What; do you think I am a schizo now?"
"Not at all, Mr. Curtis," Lewis replied. "Our unit chief sent us in here; that is all."
"We're just doing our job." Alvez added.
"We'd like to ask you a couple of questions; unless, of course, your council has any further objections." Lewis said, waving almost indifferently towards Chapman.
"No objections, per se," Chapman responded, "more of a caveat; that no questions are asked unless I am present."
"That's absolutely fine." Alvez said agreeably.
Lewis sat directly opposite Curtis. Alvez chose to remain standing; looking like he was ready to start pacing, thus giving the effect that perhaps he was not the most patient of men. Lewis took a moment to look Philip over.
"Those are some impressive tattoos." She commented. "Did you do them yourself? I understand you run a parlor in Buffalo."
"Some of them, yeah" Philip answered. He placed his closed fists on the table, arms crossed left over right, to show the same lettering across his knuckles that he showed Chapman earlier. Lewis and Alvez both regarded them. "Whatever you need to know about me is skin deep."
"You're Straight Edge." Alvez said. "So that's no drugs, booze, or smoking, right?"
"That's right. I even avoid medications as much as I possibly can." Curtis confirmed.
"By any chance is there something skin deep about Tina Larson? You two were an item at one point, am I right?" Lewis asked.
"Now hold on," Chapman interjected. "What does my client's romantic history have to do with anything here?"
"It's alright, Eric," Philip said calmly. "As a matter of fact we were. To answer your question regarding any ink about her, well yes there is a commemorative bouquet of daffodils on my inner left forearm." He turned his left arm to show Lewis the tattoo. "They were her favorite."
"Commemorative," Lewis reiterated. "So you added those after she committed suicide."
"Obviously" Philip said with a little bit of sass in his voice.
"Philip I warned you about giving these agents your lip." Chapman warned.
"It's perfectly ok, council," Alvez piped in. "I mean, we sort of expected sarcasm as a defense mechanism from your client to cover his guilt. Is that why the tat, Phil? Were you feeling guilty, like maybe you caused her to do it?" He made sure he sounded like he was getting a little peeved at the thought.
"Don't answer that." Chapman said quickly.
"I had nothing to feel guilty about." Philip answered, much to Chapman's mute dismay. "I designed and placed the daffodils so I could remember her."
"What is it, then, some kind of trophy?" Alvez asked, baiting Curtis. He didn't think Philip was really their UnSub, but this line of questioning seemed the best way to make sure. "Now all you have to do is look at your arm and you can relive how you pushed a girl to kill herself? What kind of sick coward are you?"
"That's not it at all!" Philip shouted.
"Then what is it, Phil? Explain it to me!" Alvez pressed on. "While you're at it, why don't you explain what it is about this nice little town with its decent people that's got you so pissed that you have to keep on punishing them like this?"
"That's enough!" Chapman interrupted just as it looked like Philip was about to say something. "So far there's been no mention of any evidence, circumstantial or otherwise, that my client has committed any crime. All I've heard is implicit conjecture and accusations in an attempt to illicit an emotional response. In fact, the only thing I've heard is a vague accusation of a crime that took place twenty years ago that my client was cleared of. As I recall, my client isn't even under arrest yet. So unless you have an actual charge against Mr. Curtis, I advise my client to say nothing more to you and thereby draw this interview to a close."
"Something's not quite adding up here." SSA Emily Prentiss heard David Rossi comment from behind her in the viewing room.
"Uh-oh," she said. "Rossi's having a bad math moment. We better look out." It wasn't meant in any negative way; that was just the type of levity the team had developed over so many years. The fact was, whenever senior supervisory agent David Rossi felt things weren't adding up, they usually weren't; and Rossi was tenacious when it came to making sure the math was right in all these cases.
"But he's right." Simmons said. "It feels like we're missing some key factor."
"I'm almost convinced that it has something to do with Eric Chapman over there," JJ added as Alvez and Lewis were leaving the interview room, Chapman Curtis being escorted out by a Deputy. The rest of the team turned and looked at JJ, waiting for her to finish her thought.
"Well, we all saw the same interview, right?" JJ continued. "It wasn't until the end when Luke started attacking his integrity that Curtis started getting agitated or defensive."
"Chapman, on the other hand, was seemed to be losing his cool demeanor right from start." Simmons finished the thought.
That was a good point, Prentiss reasoned in her head. She made a note to ask Dustman what else there was to know about the rape and suicide of Tina Larson; this whole case seemed to revolve around that, and when it came up in the interview, Chapman really started to unravel.
"Hold on a second." Dustman spoke up. "I thought sarcasm was generally used as a defense mechanism. Curtis was being nothing but sarcastic the whole time. Doesn't that suggest he's hiding something?"
"Not necessarily." Rossi answered. "From what I gather, sarcasm is a default position for Philip Curtis, right? Through most of the interview he was calm and cool; his demeanor was like he had nothing to hide. If he was hiding something, he'd have tried to make us believe he was being all sincere and genuine. We'd see a serious act on his part."
"One thing was clear; he wasn't acting. We saw the real Philip Curtis." Prentiss said. "All the same, I want to keep eyes on him. If Chapman is smart, he'll make sure that Curtis doesn't leave town just yet. JJ, you and Simmons go watch him; Chapman will most likely tell him to go straight back to his Motel suite and stay put. If he goes anywhere else stay on him."
"There's another thing to think about." Alvez commented. "Our UnSub has no cooling off period. Now that might be because our presence forced him to speed up his schedule, but whatever the reason, he's very likely to strike again at any time."
"It's pretty clear he's targeting the Untouchable Club. We also know that Eric Chapman is on that list; it's a pretty safe bet that he's the next target." Lewis said. "We should keep an eye on him, too."
"That's a good idea." Prentiss agreed. "You and Rossi can do that." In her head, Prentiss made a point to take the first opportunity to talk to Dustman again the she and Luke could get.
After leaving the hole in the wall that Dustman called his office, Chapman advised Philip to go back to his Motel room, and to not leave for at least twenty-four hours. While Chapman was talking like a big shot Public Defender and a job well done, Philip, for the first time in recent memory, exercised the use of his mind-to-mouth filter. He wanted so badly to comment at how Chapman all but lost his cool completely during the interview; but held his tongue and pretended like he thought it must have been part of the plan.
One thing was true, though. As little as Philip might have liked him, Eric did get him out of that dump double quick; and it was in plenty of time to grab some kind of lunch to make up for that abandoned breakfast. In his motel room, there was a bunch of take-out and delivery pamphlets. Philip went through those and settled on ordering in a pizza from a place called Brooklyn Pizza, est. 2002. When the delivery guy came and Philip paid with a decent tip, he caught sight of a black minivan across the street from the Motel parking lot. Inside it, he could make out that agent that Dustman called Simon or Simmons, and a pretty blonde agent.
"I can't believe this." Philip said to himself. "How cop TV show can you get? Nice job on your stakeout, Agents." He grinned sardonically at the minivan and waved flippantly as he shut the door to his room and pondered what he might watch on the crappy television provided.
Once he had Curtis out and sent him to his room at the Motel 6, Eric Chapman went home himself. It would be at least two hours before his wife Elsie and daughter Elizabeth got home. The quiet would do him some good; he had a lot to think about.
His three best friends were dead; actually they were murdered in two days. The things that linked them made it clear that he was bound to be the next target. The fact that they were friends, all part of the Untouchables of '96-'98, should make it clear enough to the cops and the Feds, but the problem with the idea of them coming to his aid was that would mean a lot of questions were likely to asked. The Feds would want to know everything; they were already sniffing around the whole Tina Larson connection. That was bad news. If he called the cops, the Feds would be on him, and that would be the end of his career and most likely his freedom. If he didn't, his life expectancy was significantly shortened. That was, unless, he kept watch; maybe lead whoever this psycho was away from his home, and then took him out himself.
In his office desk he had a .44 Magnum. With it, he could take down whoever was doing this once he exposed himself. He went into his office and wasted no time getting to his desk and reaching for the locked drawer at the bottom. There was a key hidden under a vase Elizabeth made him when she was in second grade. He turned the vase over.
The key was missing. He looked down and saw the drawer was open.
Behind him he heard the soft click of the hammer of the Magnum being pulled back.
"Looking for this, Chapman?" Eric recognized the voice behind him. The owner of that voice proved that the Feds were on the right track when they tried interrogating Curtis. They had the right motive but the wrong suspect. The right suspect was in the room with him now. Their 'Unknown Subject' was 'Topher Larson.
SSA's Matt Simmons and Jennifer Jareau watched from across the street as Philip Curtis paid the delivery driver for an order of pizza – Brooklyn Pizza, according to the decal on the side door – and then waved at them after scrutinizing for a moment.
"Well, it's pretty clear he knows we're watching." JJ said.
"Yep" Matt agreed. "To tell you the truth, I'm not sure this is our guy anyway. Chapman has to know he's the next target; if he thought Philip there was killed his friends, he could have blown him off and kept him in holding."
"Yeah, but you know what's weird?" JJ replied. "If Chapman knows he's next, why didn't he speak up? Why didn't he ask for police protection?"
"He's a hometown hero." Matt offered. "Maybe he doesn't want to look weak? Maybe he just presumes he will be protected like he's always been before?"
"Exactly" JJ said. "He's always been protected. He was a football star and the son of the former Mayor. What if he was protected twenty years ago? What if he had something to do with what happened to Tina Larson?"
Dr. Tara Lewis and SSA David Rossi brought their minivan to a halt on the curb across the street from the Chapman residence shortly after Eric Chapman went inside.
"You know," Rossi said in an almost off-hand way; Lewis had noticed he does that a lot, especially when he's about to drop one of his patented Rossi bombs. "Football is usually a pretty big deal in places like this. When you're one of the stars of a winning team, and the son of an important municipal leader, I'd bet you can get away with just about anything."
Lewis glanced at Rossi. "What are you getting at?"
"Chapman was a bundle of nerves during that interview. It was like you and Alvez were hitting a little too close to the mark for his liking." Rossi answered, "Especially when Luke started leaning in on Curtis about Tina."
"Are you thinking that Chapman might be the UnSub?"
"Well, no," Rossi said. "But I definitely think he knows more about what happened to her than we've been told. He's hiding something."
When SSA Emily Prentiss asked Sheriff Harold Dustman how long he'd been Sheriff, he told her it had been ten years. He also said he'd been in the department about ten years before that.
"So you were there when Tina Larson was raped?" Alvez asked.
"I do remember that assault case, yes." Dustman answered. "I was a rookie, then, so I didn't play much of a role in the investigation other than being the one who responded to the call."
"What happened after that?" Prentiss asked.
"I thought of Curtis and brought him in for questioning." Dustman replied. "Then the victim testified that he wasn't the assailant, so we cut him loose."
Emily made a note of how much care Dustman was taking with his answers: He was avoiding using names and certain terms. He called it an assault, not a rape. He said the victim, not Tina. It sounded so... official, almost scripted. It was like he was reciting something he was trained to say.
Her phone rang. S much as she wanted to ignore it, when she looked at the display it was Barnes calling. She had to take it. She excused herself to attend to the Assistant Director.
Christopher Larson knocked Eric Chapman unconscious and neatly placed the .44 back into the desk drawer. He wouldn't need it for what he had planned next; with the FBI outside he wouldn't have been able to use it without it attracting their attention anyway. The reason he took it in the first place was to ensure Chapman wouldn't use it, either. Now that Chapman was incapacitated, the pistol was irrelevant.
The FBI had followed Eric. Chances were good that they were keeping eyes on Philip as well. That meant he was pressed for time, and that this next part had to be handled delicately; with precision timing. Unfortunately, that meant Christopher had an important and unfortunate choice to make; there was really only one right one to make. For the sake of efficiency, 'Topher would have to sacrifice watching this scumbag rapist Eric Chapman's suffering to a small measure as Tina suffered. He would have to place the noose so that his neck breaks and he dies quickly.
It was such a disappointment.
'Topher already had Chapman in position. He placed the noose and then shoved the Public Defender over the banister overlooking the dining room of his home. He heard the snap of Chapman's neck. Eric was dead. Larson carefully made his way down the stairs and through the dining room, pausing momentarily to look up at his work. Satisfied, 'Topher walked through the house to the back alley. Exiting the house, he closed the door and placed the hide-a-key behind the loose stone that lined the flower garden along the house itself with gloved hands. The house all locked up, 'Topher wasted no time crossing the well manicured yard and hopped the fence into the alley behind. His truck was parked three houses down; he could easily drive away and keep out of sight of the Feds. He had no doubt they would figure out what happened and his involvement. That was all the more reason he had to move quickly if he was going to reach Philip, too. With any luck, Elsie would find Eric, and Eric's death would draw the Feds away long enough to buy him some time.