Reid spent the night in Prentiss' spare bedroom. Although he complimented her apartment, it didn't feel very cozy to him; maybe he was simply being homesick. She did say that she hadn't got around to personalizing the place much, since she spent more time at work than here. Although he had to admit that Garcia hadn't been lying about the view, it was fantastic.
The information Prentiss had asked for came by e-mail the next morning and they reviewed it together.
The stab wounds inflicted to their Thames victim were similar to those found on multiple kidnap-for-ransom victims in Colombia.
"Most of the victims were tourists and foreign workers. A finger or other bodypiece was sent to their bosses or families along with the ransom note", Prentiss grimaced.
"And if the kidnappings turned sour, problems with the ransoms or involvement of the authorities, the victims were found dead", he added.
"Even those who made it had a hell of a time", she remarked, "two of them had to be hospitalized, they presented with signs of torture and sexual assault".
"Those two victims were both young women, the victimology is similar to the London victims".
"It goes beyond the kidnapping for profit; Lester's partner seems to have a type".
"No one was ever arrested for the abductions?", he asked.
"Unfortunately no. Most of the surviving victims were too scared to talk and the investigation was derailed by police corruption and intimidations on the part of the kidnappers. But I have a list of who might have been involved. Two of them are in jail, one died a few weeks ago. That leaves only one possible unsub", Prentiss explained, "Carlos Moreno".
The material they were given on him wasn't very reassuring. As far as they could see he'd been a member of various drug cartels throughout most of his life, and suspected of many violent crimes.
"This guy fits the alpha male profile to a T. He's the complete opposite of the partner Lester took for the robberies last year. Why would she associate herself with him?", Prentiss wondered.
"I don't know, South America seems to be the only thing they have in common. Moreno is a sexual predator and a sadist. Lester doesn't take pleasure in inflicting physical pain and frankly she's too smart to partner up with someone that messy".
"Maybe that's why there were no signs of torture or rape with Sarah Grimes. She might have ordered him to finish her quickly and efficiently", she offered.
"That's bound to create friction. Moreno isn't the submissive type and he has very different motivations, whatever agreement they might have, it won't hold long".
They couldn't discuss those new elements at length since Prentiss had to get to work. While Reid couldn't accompany her, (it probably wasn't a good idea for him to appear in front of agents whose main job was to track down fugitives), she assured him that she would stay on top of the case and keep digging.
The burner phone he had bought at the airport on his arrival, rang a few minutes after she left.
"Singapore, Bahrain, Hong Kong", he heard Delma say on the other end.
"What?".
"That's as far as we could track the money trail. We couldn't follow the ransom any further", she explained.
"I know that. I was waiting for you to elaborate".
"Oh. Well I asked a friend from Serious Fraud to keep an eye out for money transfers following the same path. I was hoping to be better prepared in case we get another kidnapping", she said.
"Is that legal?", he asked suspiciously.
"He owed me a favor", she said, somewhat ignoring his question, "as it turns out, a similar transfer was made after the first girl died but before the second disappeared. And it was for the exact same amount".
"You think we're missing a victim?", Reid asked, following her reasoning.
"I think someone was taken before Allison Moore, yes".
"After the first victim's death, I can imagine the parents not reporting the kidnapping to the police", he said, hoping it didn't sound accusatory.
"That's what I was thinking".
"We need to find her", he said, "I know Allison couldn't remember anything but it's always worth a shot".
"I'm working on it. Can you meet me somewhere?".
He took a cab to the address she'd given him; it corresponded to a coffee shop on a quiet street. He went in and sat across from Delma. This morning, her flaming hair was tied in a long ponytail; she was poring over the documents she had spread all over the table.
"What, no tea?", he joked, recognizing the familiar smell of coffee emanating from her cup, "considering each person in the U.K consumes about 2kg of tea per year I find that somewhat surprising".
"Yeah well I need a bigger brain boost, tea just doesn't do it for me", she said.
"Actually, tea leaves contain more caffeine than coffee beans, so as long as you don't dilute your tea with too much milk and use enough leaves, it's really just as effective if not more", he explained.
"Really?", she said, genuinely interested.
"Yeah. Plus coffee tends to dehydrate you faster so ultimately you just feel tired more quickly. What did you wanna show me?", he asked.
"I found her", she replied, "our missing victim. I couldn't identify the person who made the money transfer. So I went through police reports and medical records that involved teenage girls filed during the specific time-window. Her name's Vickie Paterson. Her best friend called the police after Vickie disappeared from the car park of a club. The friend said she went out to smoke a cigarette and never came back. The parents called the next day to say that Vickie came home, that she was alright and had simply spent the whole night partying at another club".
"They lied, I'm assuming".
"She was being seen for minor injuries at a local hospital when her parents called, it corresponds to the kind of injuries you'd get by being knocked out and dragged into a car. Not to mention the fact that she hasn't been back to school or seen any of her friends since she came back".
"Trauma", Reid nodded, "and she fits the victimology. We should definitely talk to her".
Looking up from the files he saw her putting on her coat.
"Where are we going?", he asked, getting up and following her out.
"Vickie's parents have been avoiding my calls, but Mr. Paterson's secretary told me where I could find him", she said, pointing to the location across the street.
"A gentlemen's club?", he said, crossing the street with her and almost getting run over for looking on the wrong side of the road, "I didn't even know those still existed, it feels like something from a different age".
"That's rather hypocritical coming from a man whose country still stubbornly refuses to adopt the metric system", she laughed as they entered.
(I didn't mean to imply that all British people are completely obsessed with tea. But last time I went to London, I flew British Airways and the flight attendant passed five times with the tea trolley. Which I thought was endearingly absurd for a two hour flight).