Chapter 3.
Meredith Harding is waiting in the interrogation room, her eyes scanning the mirror opposite her. Cho is in the surveillance room alongside Jane, the agent watches her every move and thinking of how to approach the interview. When they brought her in, she was silent and very skittish; Cho knows that he has to approach her carefully and try to get her co-operation on the case. All they had was a sighting of a person in a hood and a fibre; Meredith is too short to be the suspect that fled the scene, but she may be able to shed some light on who wanted to harm him, now that they knew about the abuse. Kimble makes his move.
"Mrs Harding, I'm Agent Cho," he introduces himself as he sits on the chair opposite her.
"Agent, you have to believe me, I have no idea who did this," she tells him, leaning across the desk, "I know I didn't exactly break down when I was told, but Phil was a horrible man."
"You described him to my fellow agents as, and I quote, 'Phil was so well liked in the community'," Cho responds.
"I had to say that," she sighs, painfully, "everyone thought that he was perfect, but he was far from that."
"And the allegation of abuse?" Cho prompts her.
Without a word, she rummages in her handbag and pulls out a packet of wipes. She pulls one out and removes some of the make-up, revealing a dark blue and purple bruise on her cheek.
"Did anyone know about this?" he asks her softly, sympathising with the woman who was used as a punching bag by her own husband.
"No," she replies, "I tried to hide it, hoping that one day that it would just stop and everything would go back to normal. Nobody asked about it so I assumed that they didn't care, either that or I hid it too well."
"Why would you think that?" Cho asks, shocked that she has made such a statement.
"When you have few friends, the thought just crosses your mind. That is why I lied to your colleagues, Agent Cho, I'm ashamed of what he did to me," she whispers, a tear begin to tumble down her exposed cheek.
Outside, Lisbon is putting the finishing touches to the murder board; outlined in heavy red marker is the time of death and the description of the suspect. Alongside those notes, in black marker is fibre?, to her, it feels like the best lead that they have so far.
"Hey, Lisbon, I've got something!" Grace calls her from across the room.
Immediately, she makes her way over; Rigsby remains at his desk, going over yet another reel of CCTV footage that Van Pelt and he managed to recover. When Lisbon reaches her, Grace points at a figure on the screen, "this guy matches the description of the witness."
"Can you get a better angle?"
"Nope, he keeps his face pretty well hidden," Van Pelt replies.
"He's good," Teresa narrows her eyes at the screen, "any chance you could follow him? See where he goes and if he gets into a car, we could run the plates."
"On it boss," Grace nods as she begins to pull up the other files.
"Rigsby, any word from forensics about that fibre?"
"Yep, it struck out, it's from the victim's jacket," he responds, "but, good news, the poison has been partially identified as some kind of snake venom, they're working on it to determine what species."
"That's a very unusual way to kill someone," Grace interjects.
"A statement maybe?" Rigsby suggests.
"Possible, but let's not speculate yet, let's just deal with the facts. All we know so far is that the killer is about 6ft tall, and has a fascination with snakes and/or snake venom."
"This guy gives me the creeps," Jane interrupts, startling the three agents, "but you have to admit, this guy is pretty cool, in an odd murderous kind of way."
"How long have you been there?" Lisbon asks him.
"Long enough," he smiles, "does anyone want a drink?"
"Whoa, hang on, what do you mean 'pretty cool''?" Wayne enquires.
"Well, think about it, this guy is clever; he keeps his face covered and has skill using a syringe, judging from the victim this morning. But he has a clever way of killing his victims," he explains.
"How'd you figure that out?" Grace looks away from her screen.
"He uses snake venom, now, presuming that he doesn't hold back, this type of venom will be powerful and be excruciating pain," he elaborates, "plus, this guy must have experience with said snake because he wouldn't have bought it off the internet, so he extracted it himself."
They pause as the victim's wife walks down the corridor with Cho to the exit.
"That's quite an insight, Jane," Lisbon tells him, "but we must keep all options open. This would be a lot easier if we knew what species, but let's look at all of the pet shops in Sacramento, focusing on those that sell venomous snakes. Rigsby, can you do background checks on all of the shop owners?"
"Sure thing boss," he responds.
Jane hurries to the break room, after getting up…later than expected, he is gasping for a cup of his favourite tea. He is joined by Teresa, who finds her cup in the washing up bowl and begins to rinse it out. Jane turns the kettle on to boil.
"So," Jane begins, "what are your immediate thoughts about our perp?"
"Perp?" she smiles at him.
"Yeah, perp, or suspect, if you prefer to call him that," he reaches for a teaspoon from the drawer, as the kettle turns itself off.
"He's mad," she replies simply, "the guy kills with snake venom, he's clearly delusional."
"Hmm," Jane pauses to pour the boiling water, "well, he clearly wanted the victim to suffer. Maybe he caught on to the abuse Phil was giving his wife, family maybe?"
"We'll have to check that out," Lisbon replies.
"Already done, she's an only child and her father passed away last year," Cho interrupts, heading for the freshly brewed coffee in the pot, "I asked her before she left."
"Close friends?"
"We can track any known associates," Cho replies, pouring himself a cup, "but she said that she hasn't got many friends. None of them even noticed that she was being abused."
"Poor woman," Jane sympathises, stirring the tea with a spoon, "any idea how long it was going on?"
"I read the report," Lisbon interjects, "it was going on for about a year and nobody noticed."
"She thought that nobody would care," Cho adds.
"Check their financial," Lisbon tells Cho, "it's possible that the wife ordered a hit on her husband. I know a gun or knife is more likely to be used in these murders, but maybe she got in touch with our guy and he decided to use the venom."
"Sure," Cho makes his way to his desk, coffee in hand.
"So, what are we going to do?" Jane asks, taking a sip of one of his fragrant concoctions that all the agents have trouble pronouncing.
Lisbon's phone begins to ring.
"Lisbon," she answers the phone, after a few seconds, her face drops, "okay, we'll be on our way," she ends the call.
"What is it?" Jane asks.
"We've got another victim," she replies.