"The unsub brought his weapons with him," I spoke to the crowd. This was my first time, but I had a gut feeling and I think I could identify him.
"Tape, glue, wire," I listed. "He didn't leave them at the scene, he took them with him. He has a kind of 'killing kit' that he carries." Reid stared at me, impressed.
"Organized killers usually have a skilled job, like technology related that may involve the use of the hands." Hotch explained. "The crime scenes are far enough apart that he needs a vehicle. This will be well kept, obsessively clean as well be his home. He's diurnal, the attacks occurred during the day so the vehicle may be related to his work, possibly a company car or truck.
We believe he watches the victims for a time, learns the rhythms of the home, knows his time frame." He finished.
"You're not gonna catch him accidentally.
He destroys symbols of wealth in the victim's homes. He harbors envy of and hatred toward people of a higher social class.
He feels invisible around them." Morgan continued.
"Class is the theme of the poem which he left at the various crime scenes.
At one point in the poem, the women attempts to bribe death but he doesn't accept it.
He says this is the one moment when riches mean nothing when death comes, the poor and the rich are exactly alike." Reid said.
"So he's poor?" One of the detectives asked.
"Probably middle-class. A decidedly lower-class person would stick out in a highly patrolled neighborhood. This guy appears to belong there. He blends in." Hotch answered.
"Why does he glue the eyes open?" Another asked.
"The unsub is an exploitative rapist. Most rape victims close their eyes during the attack, turn their heads. For some rapists, this ruins the fantasy. For this type of rapist, the goal is more related to the victim watching him than the act itself. The verses, the staging, the aggressive language, "I am death," this is a guy who, while being in control of the crime scene almost certainly feels inadequate in the rest of his life." I explained. I looked over at Reid who stared at me in admiration and awe.
"And one more thing, our unsub is a white male." I said.
"Great!" Captain Griffith stood up. "So we're back to zero on Tommy."
"Actually not at all." I responded. "Mr. Griffith may we see you in your office for a moment?" Hotch asked. He led Hotch, Reid and I to his office.
"You have a tip line for the public, yes?" Reid questioned. He nodded. "We have a technician at Quantico who can tap into your phone system." Hotch explained.
"He's gonna call us?" Griffith asked.
"Well, he's gone out of his way to show you how scary he is." Reid responded.
"And when the 11:00 news leads with the capture of a 6 foot tall black man in connection with his crimes he's gonna be furious. Furious enough to call." I said.
"The FBI's behavioral analysis unit was called in yesterday afternoon by the San Diego police department to assist in the ongoing Tommy killer investigation.
YOU ARE READING
Home (Spencer Reid)
Fanfiction"Home wasn't a set house, or a single town on a map. It was wherever the people who loved you were, whenever you were together. Not a place, but a moment, and then another, building on each other like bricks to create a solid shelter that you take w...
