Philip Curtis had barely sat back down to dig into his pizza when he heard a squeal of tires outside. At first he thought it was probably nothing more than some kid burning rubber, but then he took into account he wasn't in Buffalo; this was Postcard, USA. A kid burning rubber would probably be a scandal worthy of class action suit around here. Of course, some creep ruins a girl's life and drives her to suicide and that gets swept away like dust under the rug. Curious, he got back up and took a peek out the window.
The Fedmobile was gone. Apparently Agents JJ and Simmons had somewhere more important to be. Not that Philip particularly minded; that just meant watching him wasn't a thing anymore. He knew it was awful to think this, but the idea that maybe someone else got lynched and thus removed him from the suspect pool crossed his mind.
"That's a screwed up way to look at." He admonished himself. "Even this hole of a burg doesn't deserve that."
Still, there wasn't much he could do about it. Eric might be a piece of crap, but he was right; the best move he could make right now was not to move. It was only a matter of time before the Feds figured out who was doing this, and then he'd be cleared for sure. Philip retreated from the window. He got two steps away when a knock came to his door. Peering through the peephole, Philip saw that 'Topher was standing just outside.
"Hi, Phil," "Topher greeted as he opened the door, wearing that slightly goofy but somehow endearing grin he always had. "How've you been?"
Doing his best to tone down his sarcasm and failing miserably, Philip replied: "Well, let's see. My breakfast got interrupted by that flatfooted Dustman and some superfed, I got grilled by a shrink and thug with enough Machismo to make Evans look like lamb, and somehow I ended up owing my freedom- tentatively speaking – to that slimy assed Chapman. Other than that I'm doing great."
'Topher chuckled. "You're right; I guess it was a kind of stupid question. You always had a funny way of putting things. What I meant is how are holding up?"
"I'll be fine." Philip answered. "I don't mean to go sideways on you like that, 'Topher. You're one of the good ones."
"That's good of you to say; thanks." 'Topher said. "Sorry about your breakfast, by the way. When they came here looking for you I told them you wouldn't do anything like that. Then I kind of figured the best thing was to point them in the right direction and call in help for you." He raised a hand in appeasement. "Eric Chapman might be slime, but he's the best slime when it comes to getting people out of tight spots."
"I can't argue with you on that one." Philip conceded.
'Topher looked over Philip's shoulder into the room. "What've you going on in there, anyway?" He asked.
At first Philip was about to tell him it was none of his business, but then decided it didn't matter. "Just some Brooklyn Pizza and a flick" he answered. He was about to mention that the Feds were asking him about Tina, then thought that might not be such a cool thing to do; she and 'Topher were pretty close; as twins tend to be. 'Topher really was one of the good ones in this part of the State; he didn't need to have that wound opened up again.
"Hey, I guess you know by now they think these killings have something to do with Tina, right?" 'Topher breached the subject anyway. "Or at least that's what it sounded like when one of them started asking me some questions when the other ones went to pick you up." By now, 'Topher's grin had faded.
"Yeah, that's how it looks to be shaping up." Philip confessed to knowing that; there was no point in denying it.
"I was kind of wondering if maybe I could come in and we talk about that." 'Topher suggested. "You know, maybe we can figure out what that all means."
Philip shrugged and said that would be fine. 'Topher crouched down to tie up his shoe or something as Philip turned his back and stepped into the room. He heard the door close behind him, and had just enough time to realize that 'Topher wasn't tying his shoe before all went to black as something heavy hit the back of his head.
JJ read the note when it was passed to her:
April 20, 1998
'Topher:
I'm sorry. I know how lame that is, but that's all I have right now. The thing is, I've been part of a big lie all year. I can't do it anymore; living with that lie is eating me alive. By the time you get this, I'll be out. I know it's selfish, but I can't even. I can't live with the lie, and can't expose it, either.
The official record says that I didn't know who did it. No, that isn't right, if I'm going to be honest about anything, especially with you, I might as well start by calling 'it' what 'it' is: The official record says that I didn't know my rapist. That's a lie. I know exactly who raped me. It wasn't Philip, if that's what you're thinking. This is where the lie comes in; when I gave my statement, everyone was there. You knew that. You know about how even before I made my statement they all thought it had to be Philip and how I told them it wasn't him at all. What you don't know is that when I told them it wasn't Phil, I told them who did it. What you don't know is that it was Stan. He and Eric and Kenny and Kyle were down at Devil's Hole. Stan wanted to 'party'. I said no and then he got all mad. I'll spare you the details; I'm sure you don't want to know all the things they did to me, but you do deserve to know the truth. You're my brother and you've always had my back, so I owe you that much.
As soon as I told them the truth, they rushed me into a little room. This was Sherriff Cunningham, Mayor Chapman, and Councillor Bernstein mainly, but other deputies were there, too. Deputy Dustman wasn't; I remember that. He was processing Philip out. They told me how the town couldn't afford to have this kind of mess on their hands; they didn't say it in so many words, but it was obvious they meant they couldn't have their winning ball team besmirched. Then they offered me this big pile of money to say it was some stranger, and then they had a sketch artist make up a sketch so I could say that that was the man who raped me. Then Sherriff Cunningham called in Deputy Dustman, and had him circulate the sketches. I knew it was wrong, but I just wanted the night to end, so I took the money and went along with the lie.
I can't live with it anymore, but I can't expose it, either. If I try, then I'll just look like some tramp who cried wolf. I know how lame this sounds, but this is the only way I can know peace.
I'm sorry. I love you, and I'm so, so sorry.
Tina.
"Well," JJ said, "based on the eulogy he's on record for delivering and the ad he put in the paper, he does fit the Profile."
"It's perfectly understandable why he'd be so angry with the town in general." Lewis added.
"I'd say so." Simmons agreed. "His twin sister was raped, then coerced and bribed into covering up for her attackers and couldn't live with it. Who could?"
"I'd be pretty pissed off, too." Rossi concurred.
Prentiss turned and looked at Dustman. "Did you know this cover up was going on?" she asked.
Dustman shook his head no. "I was fresh on the force." He replied. The look of shock and dismay on his face was genuine. "I was given a copy of the sketch and ordered to distribute it; I swear I had no idea this was going on. At the time I had no reason to doubt that the composite was the real thing, and saw reason to question the report from that border guard of seeing someone who matched the description crossing over into Canada."
JJ believed him. "It would have been a simple thing for Bernstein, Cunningham, or Chapman to call the crossing guard ahead of you and set all that up in order to complete the cover."
"What I don't get is this: why would he wait so long? Why not try to expose this scandal right away? I mean, doesn't this delay open the possibility this might be some kind of frame job?" Dustman asked. He pointed at the note JJ was holding. "Couldn't that be a plant?"
"Of course it's possible, but not likely." Alvez answered. "What's more likely is that he went on over the years trying to put it all behind him."
"He was born and raised here and probably conditioned to think in terms of what-is-best-for-the-town." JJ added. "Having that kind of mentality ingrained in your mind all your life can be a powerful thing. He may not have really known to do anything different."
"Stan Evans leaving most likely helped him put the matter to rest." Simmons elaborated.
"Then when he learned Evans was coming back something in him snapped." Lewis concluded.
"There's also the possibility he spent all the time planning this revenge, or should I say justice, play out." Rossi suggested. "His leaving the note might be part confession, part taunt; his way of saying 'vengeance is mine' or 'justice is served'."
"So he's some kind of vigilante." Dustman said.
"In a word, yes," Prentiss concurred. "In this case its mission based vigilantism, and it may very well be that his mission is accomplished."
"I wouldn't be too surprised if he either turns himself in or is waiting calmly for us to come pick him up once we figure it all out." Alvez said. "I've seen that happen before."
"How does that make sense?" Dustman asked. "Wouldn't he think he's done the right thing and then try and run or evade capture?"
"That would depend on his sense of right and wrong." Simmons answered. "Now that he's eliminated everyone he feels have wronged him, he might acknowledge that he has to pay for his crimes, too."
"His plan might be to throw himself at the mercy of the Court." JJ suggested. "He could try to build a case around the circumstances causing massive emotional distress, and play on the fact he turned himself in as a factor to appeal for leniency." She didn't know for certain if there was any sort of precedent for something like that, but she could almost imagine Spence rattling of statistics and examples to that effect if he were there.
"It might work, too." Rossi said thoughtfully.
"Whatever the case may be, we have to bring him in." Prentiss said, cutting the speculations off. "Sherriff, is there anywhere else Larson might go besides the Motel where he works and lives?"
"There's the old Larson house." Dustman answered. "As far as I know he still holds the title deed, though nobody has lived there since his dad passed on about three years ago. You think he might be hiding out there?"
"It's possible." Prentiss confirmed. "Rossi; you, Lewis, and Alvez go to the Motel. Simmons, JJ and I will go with the Sherriff to the old Larson house."
With that, each group geared up and headed out to their destination.
Philip was starting to wake up. 'Topher had everything set up just the way he needed. As soon as he had the coward Philip Curtis incapacitated, he brought Philip to his old family home; the one where Tina killed herself. More specifically, 'Topher brought the coward who ran away to the actual room where Tina did herself in; he had it set up just the way it was when he found that April 20 in 1998. That alone took months to get just right. He was originally going to put Stan Evans in here, but then Philip showed up.
So now Philip gets to see what it was like. Philip Curtis would see firsthand the consequences of his cowardice; his refusal to live up to his big talk about standing up for the greater good no matter what the status quo might be.
"Wake up, Phil." 'Topher demanded, slapping Philip's cheek lightly.
Philip came to full wakefulness. The initial grogginess must have made it difficult for him to comprehend what was going on. He was likely puzzled why he was standing, and then confused and uncertain where he was, or shy his hands were duct taped behind his back, why was he standing on a chair, and what was around his neck.
"What..." he stammered. "What is this? What's going on?"
'Topher Larson gestured for Philip to look around. "Don't you remember this place, Phil?" He asked. "It's Tina's old room. You do remember Tina, don't you?"
Philip suddenly realized what was happening; what was about to happen.
On their way out of the precinct, Sherriff Dustman pulled a little bit of jurisdictional grandstanding. He ordered one of his Deputies – Spivey; his name was – to join Rossi, Alvez and Lewis. That was fine as far as Rossi was concerned; it was his county, after all. If Larson was at the Motel, Spivey was welcome to make the arrest. That might be good for the Town Morale, in fact; once they learn what was really going on. It would definitely do lot to help the Sherriff save a little face in his department if not in the whole town. While on route, another cruiser joined them. That was fine, too, as far as Rossi was concerned. If 'Topher was there – though Dave was doubtful he would be- he might resist. Not only that, but it would look good for the department if there were officers participating in any search of the premises.
When they got to the Motel 6, Deputy Spivey pulled Rossi aside.
"Look, I know we might seem like a bunch of small town keystone cops to you, but we're not stupid. We know how this town works. I'm also fully aware that Terry might be an accomplice here. All I'm asking you right now is that you let me handle talking to her." He said.
"Fair enough," Rossi agreed. "It's your town, it's your show. Think of us as guest appearances here to help you out." He stepped aside and let Spivey lead the way. He could tell by the looks exchanged by Alvez and Lewis that they weren't so sure this was the best move, and he understood why. They were concerned that the police corruption from twenty years ago might still be in play today. Dave didn't think that was the case; Dustman said he had no idea what was happening back when he was a rookie, and Rossi believed him. Also, Spivey was clearly too young to have had anything to do with what happened back then. In fact, Dave would guess the Deputy was in grade school at the time; maybe even babysat by Tina, if she ever was a babysitter.
With Spivey in the lead, they entered the reception area of the motel, where Theresa Larson was at the front desk. It was clear she knew who Spivey was as she was smiling as if genuinely glad to see him.
"Well, hello, Darren!" She greeted warmly. "You brought the FBI Agents with you, I see. How can we help you, now?"
"Hi, Terry," Spivey answered. "Listen, by any chance is 'Topher around? We need to ask him a few questions."
Terry's smile faded abruptly. "He's off on some errand. What's this about? You don't think he..."
"We're really sorry to disturb you again, Ma'am," Rossi interjected. "It's just that there have been new developments in the case, and..."
"What new developments?" Terry Larson interrupted. She looked at Spivey. "Darren, what is he saying?"
Deputy Darren Spivey balked a moment. The time it took for him to take a breath to speak was just enough time for Theresa whimper a denial.
"There's been another hanging, Terry." Spivey told her. "I don't see how sugar coating that will do any good. It was Eric Chapman; we just found him. There was a letter on him that was written to 'Topher."
"Oh, my God," Theresa stammered. "You mean Eric wrote a confession suicide note to 'Topher, right? But why?"
As this exchange was going on, Lewis and Alvez went about the business of searching the premises; Lewis went outside to check the suites and Alvez went through to the back where the Larson residence was located.
"No, Terry, that's not it." Spivey replied. "The letter was written by Tina. We think she wrote it right before she... We think maybe 'Topher put it there."
Theresa Larson broke down in tears and protests of denial; saying this had to be a mistake and that 'Topher would never do anything like that. It was just the kind of reaction Rossi would expect from a spouse who had no idea. She wasn't an accomplice, as far as he could tell.
Lewis came rushing back to the main entrance just as Alvez came in from where he came.
"You have to see what we found out back in the shed." Alvez said.
"Philip Curtis is gone." Lewis announced at the exact same time. "The door to his suite is wide open, his car is in the lot, and there's a large wrench in the room; it looks like it has blood and hair on it."
"The rest of the house is clear." Alvez said, adding to his commentary regarding the shed.
"He has Curtis." Rossi said. "For some reason Larson thinks he deserves the same punishment as the others. Deputy Spivey, I need you to send your officers to the old Larson house, that's where they most likely are. I'll call Prentiss to let her know. Lewis, you join Spivey to talk to Theresa. Alvez, let's take a look at the shed."
Rossi got on the phone as Simmons and an officer left for the Larson house. Lewis and Spivey took Theresa to the office, and Alvez showed Rossi the way to the shed out back.
"Think about what you're doing, 'Topher." Philip said, trying to reason with him. The look in 'Topher's eyes suggested this was a futile effort, but Philip still had to try. "You know I had nothing to do with what happened to Tina. The cops here had me and she told them to let me go."
"You did nothing." 'Topher countered.
At first Philip had no idea what 'Topher meant. If 'Topher knew he was innocent, then what was all this for?
"You let them lie to save their team." 'Topher said. "You did nothing to make sure they paid for their crimes. You ran away like a coward. That makes you just as guilty."
Before Philip could point out the fallacy in 'Topher's reasoning, 'Topher kicked the chair Philip was standing on out from under him. Desperate, Philip did the only thing he could think of; he curled his legs up as close to his body as he could and arched himself upwards, almost in a skin the cat form, hoping that this might lessen the pull of the rope on his neck. In his struggle for self preservation, he didn't hear the sires of the police approaching.
'Topher heard them, though. He stepped back slowly from Philip as he struggled to stay alive. He might even succeed; it didn't matter. If the coward survived, he'd have to live with his cowardice revealed forever. Smiling, 'Topher got down to his knees and put his hand behind his head, interlocking his fingers.
"Larson is here," Emily told Simmons and JJ as they pulled up in front of the old Larson house with Dustman. "It looks like he might have Curtis with him." she had just finished on her phone with Rossi.
That puzzled Simmons a little. "Why would Larson take Curtis?" he asked. "Wasn't Curtis cleared of all charges?"
"Often in towns like this, even the suspicion of a crime like that leaves a black mark on your name." JJ explained. Peripherally, Simmons noted Dustman cringed slightly, indicating that he was not innocent of this kind of prejudicial thinking.
"Maybe he doesn't believe Philip is completely innocent." Dustman suggested as they rushed to the door.
Taking position, Prentiss banged on the door and announced their presence. There was, predictably, no response. Emily gave Simmons and Dustman a curt nod and stepped aside. Side by side, the Sherriff and Simmons kicked the door open and the others charged in.
The coward Philip Curtis was getting tired just as the Feds and the cops kicked in the door; they would probably get upstairs in time to rescue Phil, but maybe not. It didn't matter; justice has already prevailed. On his knees and his fingers still interlocked behind her head, 'Topher Larson waited and listened to the Law search and clear the house room by empty room. Two of them were heading up the stairs. In a matter of moments they would find this room- Tina's old room- was the only room that had anything in it.
Simmons heard Dustman declare the room across the hall was clear; all of them were empty so far. Simmons himself pushed the door in front of him open to discover a girl's bedroom – presumably Tina Larson's – with two men in it. One was 'Topher Larson; he was already on his knees with hands on his head, fingers interlocked. He was watching as the other man, Philip Curtis was struggling to breathe through the noose tied around his neck above a knocked over chair.
"They're in here!" He shouted, rushing into the room. With Dustman right behind him, Simmons ran past Larson and grabbed Curtis by the waist to hold him up and relieve the pressure around his neck, thus reducing the constriction of the rope and allowing him to breathe. Behind him, the Sherriff subdued their suspect, cuffing him while reading him his rights.
The next one in the room was JJ. She ran in to help Simmons; as Matt held Curtis, she lifted the noose over his head. Together they eased him down, and Dustman and Prentiss took Larson away.
"It doesn't matter." Larson said, sounding like he was declaring victory. "Justice has already prevailed. Do you hear me? Justice has prevailed!"