Heurism | Spencer Reid¹

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR: COMPETITION

"If men could only know each other, they would neither idolise nor hate."

     — Elbert Hubbard.

—

"St Louis is in trouble."

"That's a hell of an opening," I remark, glancing between the two evidence boards behind JJ. Several women's pictures have been stuck there — on one, they are all fairly young brunettes, although the other board seems a little more diverse. "What's going on?"

Having just arrived, Hotch sets his bag down on the table, thumbing through the contents and producing a file. "They've got two serial killers."

The news immediately catches my interest. Slouching back in my chair, I study the pictures laid out in front of us. "This killer abducts his victims from public places, dumps them in the woods," Gideon explains. "They consulted us months ago after the third murder."

JJ sighs and calls up the photo of another woman on the board. "Well, now it might be up to six. Ellen Carroll's been missing since yesterday. The first two victims were found near Mill Creek in Mark Twain National Forest."

Making his way over to the board, Reid leans down to examine the map. "No wonder it takes days to find the bodies. The forest is 1.5 million acres, and 78,000 of that's wilderness."

I also approach, but choose the other board instead. This one doesn't have all the maps and articles, instead showing the crime scene photos. "Not as much publicity on these."

Hotch nods in agreement. "What's the story with these women?"

"Eight victims. All prostitutes," she says. "Latest is Marci Mitchell. She was killed last night with a .44 Magnum. All are tied to a serial shooter, claiming responsibility. He's contacted Jim Meyers, a reporter at the Missouri Herald."

"So he's not getting the attention he thinks he deserves. He signs it the 'Hollow Man,' names himself for the press."

From his seat, Morgan looks up. "Why Hollow Man? What, does he feel empty inside or something?"

She sighs, crossing her arms as she turns her back on the photos. "He uses hollow-point bullets. No one even knew this guy existed until he sent this letter."

"Well, he's killed more victims, but look who he's chosen. Hundreds of victims go unnoticed because they're social outcasts who never make the front page."

Reid nods at Hotch's assessment. "When Mill Creek kills, the Hollow Man shoots another prostitute."

"So one doesn't want to be outdone by the other. Sounds like sibling rivalry to me."

I send Morgan a knowing look. "Or just another measuring contest. 'My kill count's bigger than yours.'"

Hotch seems disapproving but can't argue with the suggestion. "They've been killing independently of each other for a year now."

"With each killer learning something from the other."

——————

Pen hanging from the corner of my mouth, I scan through my notes on the case. A file is deposited in my lap as JJ makes her way down the aisle of the jet. She perches on the armrest of Reid's chair. Only now do I notice his twitchiness, the way his knee bounces and his hands fidget with his glasses. "What's up?"

Still restless, he shifts in his seat. "Even though there are roughly 30 serial killers at large in the US at any given time, it's an incredibly rare occurrence to have them operating in the same city."