"Then she was placed with her accomplice in a ship which had been pierced with holes, and sent out to sea, where they soon sank amid the waves."
- The Three Snake Leaves
Two days ago...
Monroe ran, hard, following the scent. It reminded him of his old hunting days.
"Monroe?" Hank yelled. "Monroe!"
"This way!" Monroe yelled back.
Hank managed to catch up with him by the river.
"He's not here," Hank said as he gasped for air.
"He's nearby. The river's messing me up, I think," Monroe replied. "We must be down wind."
"Which way?"
Monroe turned to the steep incline that led to a short waterfall. In the distance, he could make out silhouettes.
"There, he's there, come on!"
He scrambled up the incline, Hank on his heels. His heart hammered in his chest and pounded in his ears.
Echoes of voices came down from the water.
"Stop! Palomino! Stop!" someone yelled. It sounded like Nick.
A huge roar followed, and Monroe tried to push himself harder. They had to get to him before that guy went into attack mode.
He reached the top and turned to pull Hank up the rest of the way. But even though they were level with Nick now, he was still about a hundred feet away.
Monroe ran for it.
One silhouette lunged for another.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The attacker slowed, but he didn't stop.
Bang! Bang! Splash!
The second round of shots pushed the attacker back and dropped him, but he had gotten too close to the bank. So when he fell, he tumbled into the river.
"Nick!" Hank yelled. "Nick!"
Panting and wiped out, they finally caught up. Nick was at the bank, looking down the river.
"You okay?" Monroe asked.
"I tried to bring him in, but he wouldn't," Nick said. "Then he found out I was a Grimm, and he just attacked."
"You did what you had to do," Hank replied. "Who was he?"
"James Palomino. Damn it, his body – "
"Nick, it's okay, man," Monroe said. "Let them deal with the body. It's not like it's gonna disappear."
"We gotta call this in," Hank said.
"We shouldn't," Nick replied. "We should just leave."
"Nick, this guy was a suspect in a murder investigation," Hank said. "And he tried to kill a police detective. It was a good shoot. But we need to call it in, otherwise it'll look suspicious. Okay?"
Nick nodded, but his expression was blank.
Monroe reached out and put his hand on Nick's shoulder.
"Nick," he said. "You okay?"
"No, not really," he replied. "Monroe, you should go. Hank can call it in, and – "
"No way," Monroe replied. "I'm a witness."
"Nick's right," Hank said. "We'd have to explain why you were here, and we don't wanna do that. Go on, I've got this."
Now.
Rosalee ducked back into Juliette's and Nick's house, her arms full of books.
"I've got the stuff from the trailer," Hank said. "Monroe's looking through it."
"Okay, I've got his note, and, Rosalee?" Juliette said. "Is that everything?"
"Yes, I think so."
"Okay, okay," Monroe said. "So we've got his notes from the precinct. Notes from the trailer. Stuff at the shop. And stuff he left Juliette. But I'm confused. Like, royally confused, about all this."
"We all are, that's why we're here," Rosalee replied.
"What if we did that thing," Monroe suggested. "You know, the whole starting at the beginning of things... thing."
"The shooting was two days ago," Hank said. "And the case started, what? About five days ago. That's when this started."
"No, it was before that," Juliette said. "He's been keeping things from me. Lying, even. For over a week now."
"Since the Tally Maker's kidnapping," Rosalee said. "At least that's understandable."
"What? No it's not," Juliette replied. "I wasn't even hurt. We've gotten through a lot worse."
"That's true," Monroe said. "I mean, he's already faced a dragon, literally, to save Juliette."
"It's not the same thing," Rosalee replied. "The Dmonfeuer had a predictable behavior. Most Wesen crimes are like that."
"Most criminals are like that," Hank said. "They follow the pattern."
"But that's not what happened," Rosalee continued. "This serial killer didn't operate like a serial killer, or a hit man, or a Wesen on a mission."
"She didn't hurt Juliette," Hank replied.
"No, she didn't. But Nick acted like it was the worse possible thing. He stayed out late and didn't return my calls," Juliette said. "A few days ago, when I called you Monroe, you said he hadn't seen him."
"Right."
"But he told me he was with you the night before. So where was he?"
"Look, before we jump to any conclusions, let's just remember who we're talking about," Monroe said. "Where ever he was, I'm pretty sure it was to look into something criminal or something."
"Why would he lie about that?" Juliette asked.
Rosalee interrupted. "Monroe's right. We should start at the beginning. Let's say Juliette's right about the Tally Maker. What happened after the victims were picked up?"
"We went to the hospital," Juliette said.
Eight days ago...
People thronged the hospital: patients, police, nurses, FBI, and doctors in the halls and visitors in the lobby.
Juliette waited patiently for the checkup, the blood draw, and even the unnecessary x-ray of her chest to confirm that she did not, in fact, have broken ribs.
"Miss Silverton?"
"Juliette," she replied. "Sorry, Doctor – "
"Finley. You've been given a clean bill of health, so you'll be good to go as soon as the investigators give you an okay. There are some people who'd like to see you in the meantime, if that's alright."
"Yes, of course."
Finley waved in her visitors – Hank, Nick, and Renard – before he stepped out himself.
"You're all right?" Nick asked.
"Yeah. I'm fine. Just like I said."
"Listen," Renard began. "We've got a problem."
"What kind of problem?" Juliette asked.
"A woman who works with you, Megan, I think her name is. She reported your kidnapping. Said she was threatened by the kidnapper."
"I mean, yeah. That's all true. Why is it a problem?"
"Victims and their families can't investigate their own crimes," Nick said.
"With Megan's statement, you are officially a victim of the Tally Maker," Renard said. "And that means that Nick can't do anything related to the investigation."
"I thought this was an FBI case. Doesn't that mean Nick and Hank couldn't work on it anyway?" she asked.
"Technically," Hank said. "But the FBI will need local support on this case."
"I think you two should take the rest of the day," Renard said. "And tomorrow, too. It's important to keep our heads down right now. The last few times the FBI has worked with our precinct, it hasn't gone well for them, and they remember that."
"So what? We just let the killer get away as the Feds run down every loose end?" Nick asked. "Captain, they're going to treat this just like every other case, and by the time they do figure it out, if they do, she'll be long gone."
"Maybe. But if you go poking around in this, you will get caught," Renard replied. "And we can't afford that."
"I need some air," Nick said as he left his room.
Renard turned to Juliette and Hank. "It's not fair of me to ask either of you this. But I need someone to keep an eye on him, make sure he's not working this case."
"It's not like this is the kinda thing we just, let go," Hank pointed out.
"And Nick's right," Juliette spoke up. "If this is about Wesen, then he should be working on it."
"He's not the only person who can handle it," Renard replied. "And this is an international issue."
"What're you saying?" Hank asked.
"Another entity wants this case," Renard said.
"Like the Wesen Council?" Hank asked.
Renard's face betrayed his surprise.
"Nick asked Rosalee to contact them about the case to see if they'd help us," Hank said.
"The council has the connections needed to handle this, and if Nick gets in the way? Let's just say they're not in the habit of covering for Grimms."
"Then what should we do?" Juliette asked.
"Just keep an eye on him," Renard said. "Till this whole thing blows over."
Now.
Monroe returned to the dinning room table with water for everyone. Once he handed them out, he turned back to the notes from the trailer.
"So the Captain took him off the case," Rosalee said. "Monroe and I spent the night and next day with Juliette. Nick wasn't around much."
"I knew he was at the trailer a bit," Hank said. "But I took the day off like I was told. Figured a break would be good."
"That's not good," Monroe said. "He must've been looking into the serial killer. I mean, what else could he have been doing?"
"He could've been at the precinct," Hank suggested. "Filing paper work, that kind of thing."
"You think so?" Rosalee asked.
"No, but it's possible."
"Okay, okay. Before the shooting, you had a case, right? A new case," Monroe said.
"The one Nick told me that you were helping him with," Juliette added. "Which was a lie."
Rosalee spoke up, "Not entirely."
Three days ago...
Rosalee was closing up shop when Nick turned up.
"Good, you're here," she said.
"Thanks for helping me so late," he said as he came in. "I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."
"What's going on?"
"I'm thinking our guy is a Jagerbar," Nick said. "His sister is, and the crime scene was pretty savage."
"I'm not sure how I can help if that's the case," Rosalee replied.
"In the trailer, I've got recipes that can take down a Blutbat or a Lowen, but nothing for Jagerbars. Except for poison that kills them. I was hoping for something a little less fatal."
"Huh," she said. "Actually, we might be able to do that by modifying the poison."
"What do you mean?"
"We can add agents that counter-act the more fatal elements of the poison. It's a better method than watering down, and depending on the substrate, it should be pretty fast. We might have to modify the delivery system, too."
"Let's get started."
As Rosalee collected her materials and laid them out.
"So, have you spoken with Juliette?" she asked.
"What? No, sorry. I haven't had the time."
"I know it's none of my business, but she's upset. So if a Jagerbar isn't staring you down, maybe you should talk with her."
"I know I shouldn't put it off, but this... it's not like I can just ignore the giant bear attacking people."
"This is going to take some time to set up and simmer," Rosalee said. "And it's not like another pair of hands will help. Why not go talk to her now? This should be done in an hour. You can come back and pick it up."
Nick smiled. "Thanks, Rosalee. I'll be back in an hour."
Now.
Juliette shook her head as her frustration flared up. "He did NOT come home and talk with me. He didn't even call."
"I'm sorry."
"This was all he left," Juliette said, shoving a napkin forward.
Juliette,
Will contact you soon.
Please don't try to find me.
-Nick
"That's it?" Hank asked.
"That makes sense," Monroe said. "If he's trying to track down a Jagerbar, he wouldn't want any of us to go after him because we'd be walking into a – for lack of a better word – bear trap."
"What's a Jagerbar and why would he be looking for one?" Hank asked.
"It's a bear-like Wesen," Rosalee said. "And he did say the suspect from a case was like one. Can you tell us about it? All I know is that the killer was suspected to be a Jagerbar."
Six days ago...
Hank and Nick followed the officer up the stairs into the home office of Terrance Picket. The room bore the hallmark signs of a brutal fight: broken furniture, holes in the walls, and blood everywhere.
"Damn," Hank commented. "Looks like someone beat the hell outa him."
The body was splayed out on the floor. The back of his head was caved in.
"Looks like he didn't take just take it," Nick commented. "Defensive wounds on his arms, and check out his knuckles. Bet we'll find the same thing on his legs and feet."
Carolyn Winters, one of the M.E. assistants, spoke up, "I put time of death about two days ago, possibly three."
"Was he killed here?" Nick asked.
Carolyn nodded. "Once the M.E. is done, she can confirm. But the blood spatter and lividity seem pretty clear cut."
"That doesn't make any sense," Hank said. "This is the kind of fight that neighbors hear. So if he was killed three days ago, how come no one called it in?"
"Two to three days is a wide time frame. If all the neighbors work, he could've been attacked during the day."
Hank said, "Let's make sure the canvas asks about odd noises this week."
"The wife called it in?" Nick asked.
"Yeah, she's downstairs with Officer Ramirez."
Nick lagged behind Hank for a moment at the bottom of the stairs.
"You got something?" Hank asked.
"No, nothing. Just thought I saw something."
Hank continued into the kitchen.
"Mrs. Picket?"
"It's Rollins. Erin Rollins."
"Mrs. Rollins," Nick said. "We understand you found your husband's body today. Would you tell us what happened?"
"I, uh, came home from a business trip with my company this morning. I was annoyed with Terry because he hadn't returned any of my calls for the last couple days. I just thought he was avoiding me. And when I got home, he was..." She choked and put her head in her hands.
"When you got home, was the door unlocked or open?" Nick asked.
She shook her head, no.
"Besides his office, did you see anything else out of place? Anything missing?"
She shook her head, no.
"Does your husband have any enemies?" Hank asked. "Anyone who threatened him recently?"
"No, nothing like that," she replied.
"Does your husband have training in the martial arts or any kind of hand to hand combat?" Nick asked.
Hank turned his head; that was an odd question, even for Nick.
"When he was a teenager. Does that matter?"
"It can help us narrow down the suspects," Nick said. "Thank you for your time."
Nick left.
"Mrs. Rollins," Hank began. "You said you returned from a trip. Can you give us the flight number or the cab number?"
"I gave all that to the officers already," she replied.
"If you think of anything else," Hank said, handing off his business card. "Call us, any time."
Now.
Hank sat back.
"That martial arts question was weird, right? That's not Wesen thing is it?" Hank asked.
Monroe and Rosalee both shook their heads.
"Okay, maybe that was something else, but the weird part comes in the next day. He tells me he's out looking for leads on the Picket murder, so I cover for him. I've no idea where he is. He's got nothing when he gets back to the station. And then there's the Captain."
"What about him?" Rosalee asked.
Five days ago...
The Captain approached Hank at his desk.
"You see Nick?" Renard asked.
"He's following up on the Picket murder," Hank said. "The wife called about some contacts her husband had."
"You're not with him."
"I promised him I'd check in on the status of the Tally Maker investigation."
"Hank, you can't."
"Not the kidnapping or the murders, just the paper trail that we got in that storage unit. All that we know right now is that a lot of moving is moving around, possibly some kind of payoffs. But it all looks legitimate."
"What are you going to tell Nick?"
Hank shrugged. "The truth. No reason to tell him anything else."
"Good. Keep me posted."
"On this case, or on Nick?"
"Both."
"I'll admit it. I'm a little worried he's..."
Now.
"Boy howdy!" Monroe said loudly. "I don't mean to interrupt, but I think you'll all agree, this is kind of, you know, pressing."
"You find something?" Hank asked.
"Bad something," Monroe said. "We're talking a step below nuclear bad."
He held up a piece of paper marked over with a pencil, revealing a message written on the page above it. It was hard to make out.
"Nick wrote this, sometime today, maybe yesterday," Monroe said. "This is from the stuff you got from the trailer."
"Can you give us the CliffNotes version?" Hank interrupted.
"One word: Reinhiet," Monroe said.
"What?" Rosalee asked. "Did you just say – "
"I did."
"Sorry, what's this... German thing?"
"Eugenics," Rosalee said. "Basically, it means 'purity,' specifically of race."
"You mean like a Nazi kind of thing?"
"Wesen purity. Keeping the bloodlines 'untainted,'" Rosalee said.
Juliette spoke up. "There's also a name here: Susan Gamble. Who is that?"
"No idea," Hank and Monroe replied at the same time.
"We should look into obituaries," Rosalee suggested, "for Susan Gamble."
That prompted several seconds of silence.
"Because...?" Monroe prompted.
"Because this is the second time today I've had a conversation about the Reinhiet," she replied.
Six hours earlier...
Monroe took over the register. "I got it," he said.
Rosalee hesitated.
"It's okay. I've got the register. I've got the phone. I've got it covered."
She looked at the throng of people filling the store.
"Call me if you need help," she said.
She grabbed her purse and rushed out before anyone could stop her.
"It's just lunch. I'll live," he replied.
She grabbed her purse and left. The restaurant was about a five minute walk, so she checked her phone. She had twenty missed calls from the same number.
The same international number.
She dialed back as she walked.
"Miss Calvert?"
"De Groot, hello," she replied. "What's going on?"
"The council is responding to your request for information," De Groot replied. "Regarding the serial murders of Wesen."
"Oh," she replied. "I wasn't expecting a response."
"The council had a long deliberation, but they have agreed to share information with you, with the caveat that you will use your own judgment when sharing this information with the Grimm."
"Yes, of course."
"The serial murders are known to the council, and all have been traced back to organizations invested in the Reinhiet."
Rosalee stopped dead in her tracks. "Are you... are you certain?" she asked.
"Yes. I trust that you know the kind of panic this could inspire."
"I do. Don't worry. It's not the kind of thing I'd share."
"Good. There have been dozens of related murders recorded in the past five years."
"If you send me their names and locations, I could – "
"No," he interrupted.
"Those names could help us – "
"No. We cannot disclose the identities of departed Wesen, least of all to a Grimm."
"I am not a Grimm," Rosalee replied.
"No, but if we gave you those names, you would share them with Detective Burkhardt."
"He wants to stop this."
"A Grimm has no place dealing with the Reinhiet."
Rosalee moved into a nook to talk. "He's been able to help other situations – "
"Not like this," De Groot interrupted. "We want you to monitor the situation."
"You mean spy on my friend."
"Hardly. He asked you to call us for good reason, but he is ill equipped. Now you know what's at stake, I trust you will report anything pertinent to us."
"I suppose that's a reasonable request," Rosalee said. "But I want you to remember one thing."
"Yes?"
"The fact that Nick Burkhardt has never dealt with the Reinhiet before doesn't make him ill-equipped. It makes him the only person who can handle it. Everyone else is going to be too afraid, or on their own vendetta. Nick can be objective in a way none of us can."
"You have an odd faith in this Grimm, but I will remember what you have said."
The line disconnected.
Now.
"So, this Reinhiet thing," Hank started. "It's the kind of stuff that causes hysteria?"
"More like riots and revolutions," Rosalee said. "Remember when that intern posed as an Endezeichen Grimm? Killing and branding Wesen?"
"It's that bad?" Juliette asked.
"Worse," Monroe said. "A thousand times worse."
"Grimms are fairy tales to most of us, and the Endezeichen are horror stories. They're so rare that no one really believes in them. But the Reinhiet? That's very real. A lot of Wesen came to America to get away from it."
Monroe added, "Basically, it's like these groups that value purity of the bloodline so much that they think they need to reinforce the Old World fears with killing and maiming and skeletons on display."
"That's awful," Juliette said.
"It's bad. And if that's what Nick was tipped off to, then he's in trouble. A lot of trouble."
Juliette hesitated. "You said the council handles this, right? The Captain mentioned something about giving the case to people who could handle it."
"And he's been on me to report back to him about Nick," Hank said.
"You think it means something?"
"Think about it," Hank said. "He's been keeping things from all of us. He'd need someone to back him up, and it'd need to be someone with connections. Probably someone who could hook him up with some fake ids."
"The Captain would be the perfect person to do it," Rosalee said. "Connections to the Royals and the resistance. Resources."
"And him asking any of us questions about Nick wouldn't be weird," Juliette said. "Especially with Nick being so weird."
"This is good," Monroe said. "Well, technically not good. But better than terrible."
"Oh this is good," Hank said. "Because he might be a Zauberbiest thing and a Royal and the Captain, but there're four of us and only one of him."
"You think we should torture it out of him?" Monroe asked.
"I think Hank means we should just go ask him collectively," Rosalee said. "We'll resort to torture and threats only if absolutely necessary."