↞ Chapter Three ↠

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Season Six, Episode Two


"Please tell me you've got something Doc?" I nearly begged as she came into the room.

"You know most of the time Detectives come to me." She ignored my plea, coming to sit at the chair beside my desk. I frowned in reply. "But for you DI Howards, I'll make the trip." It was said with a terrible attempt at my accent, I just leaned back, crossing my arms as Danny stepped up to the pair of us.

I'd been trying to place the latest victims face for the past four hours, but with no luck.

Danny crossed his arms, looking down at the woman from what appeared to be a high horse. "I want to catch this guy before dinner." It was a poor attempt at a joke.

"I doubt it." She passed over the folder she was holding. "Given how long all nine bodies had been there, this guy knows what he's doing."

I took the file first, flipping it open as the Danny asked a question; "Okay, but we do at least know it's a guy?"

She hummed, I continued to flip the pages. "Judging from the amount of forced used and how aggressive, yes. There's also signs of sexual assault, postmortem."

I cringed, snapping the folder shut and looking up at the Doctor, "Any DNA?" I thought not, but still asked.

The Doctor shook her head, and I frowned deeply. The voice of the Doctor began to drown out in my mind. I took a deep breath, letting my eyes fall shut as I pieced all the information together in my mind. The faces of the victims lined up with their names and what they use to look like.

"-across their necks. But that's not what killed them." The Doctor's words caught my attention, I looked up, a feeling of disgusting familiarity came over me. "He strangled them to death with his bare hand after he bludgeoned them. Tied them up with rope, hands and feet."

I spoke without meaning to, "He wanted them to feel inferior." I looked up, meaning to apologize, but the rest of the words sputtered through my lips. "That's the scary part about serial killers, there's no other motive rather than pleasure."

I stood, nodding in thanks to both Danny and the Doctor, muttering for them to continue with their conversation as I made my way into the ops room. I opened the file on the table, pulling the pictures of each victim and beginning to pin them over the pictures of their corpses. The faces looking at me where all close to the same.

The women were all blonde haired, blue eyed, and fairly pretty, if you leaned that way. While I did not, I could recognize beauty when I see it. The men were the same, though all of their hair appeared just a bit darker then the women, their eyes a brighter blue.

I frowned, muttering their names under my breath as I wrote them in my usual scrawl beside the pictures.

It would be much easier to find their last locations, inform their families of their deaths, and find them justice. I began writing the cause of death, the part of the process that we knew so far was rather extensive but it wasn't all of the pieces of the puzzle that was necessary for the solving of the case.

"J?"

I took a moment to turn, feeling rather dazed at the sight of the faces and the process in which they were killed.

"J?" It was Danny, I turned. "They found another body."

I found myself frowning and nodding. I stepped away from the board, moving to collect my coat to go when Danny spoke again.

"Her name is Carmen Sanchez. She's nineteen years old, from Astoria." He was ready off of his phone, and I nodded along, pausing in what I was doing to let him continue. "There was a note, they're running it now but-"

"Like the bodies, it won't have DNA." I finished, sighing heavily and leaning against the table-top. "What did it say?"

Danny sighed heavily, pressing the heel of his hand into his eye as he read it off, "'Detective Reagan- Let's see who the smart one is.'"

I didn't know that Danny had picked a fight with a serial killer, some part of me believed that he would know better, but this was stubborn Danny Reagan, and I'd known him for so long. "Bloody hell." I mutter in reply.

"He's familiar with the area." I stepped past Danny, muttering about the probability that the man had been arrested previously. I sat at my computer, pulling up previous criminals and beginning my search with the simple parameters that I was aware of. "I know he's white, rarely do serial killers venture outside of their ethnicity, and based off of how violent the killings are, I can assume that the man has been previously arrested for violent assault or battery."

I did not bother to explain my reasoning, feeling as though I were working without the rest of my mind working against me. Danny stood over my shoulder, and as the database continued scrolling I found myself sighing heavily.

"Fourteen thousand, three hundred and twelve." It was much to big of a number to narrow down, no matter what guesses to the perimeter the pair of us made.

Silence fell between the pair of us, his mind wandering elsewhere as I focused my thoughts on the realm of the case. It had only been twenty-three hours, and we'd not gotten anywhere.

"Why the hell did I say anything to that reporter?" Danny was cursing himself, and I swallowed thickly. I agreed that he shouldn't have said anything to attempt at connecting with the killer, but I wouldn't be vocal about this specific fact. "I should have kept my mouth shut and said 'no comment' like anyone else."

I spoke up, speaking words that I whole-heartedly believed; "If you blame yourself, you will never be able to solve this case."

I turned back to the computer, muttering about the use of the hammer as an attempt to change the topic of conversation. The hammer was violent, and efficient, and oh-so-familiar. I typed the words quickly, muttering a faint 'hurrah' when I received my results. "There was an assault in Morningside Heights a couple of years, a guy used a hammer on a college coed."

Danny snorted in a humorless way; "Sounds familiar."

"His name is Clark Levine." I muttered, scribbling down the man's address before standing and retrieving my weapon from the bottom drawer of my desk and tucking it into my holster. "I'll go and speak to him-"

Danny interrupted, "At just after-" He paused, looking at his watch, "three a.m.?"

I frowned, realizing the flaw in my plan as I paused mid-stride. "I guess I'll stay-"

"No! No, no, no." Danny shook his head firmly, placing both hands on my shoulders as he directed me towards the back door of the precinct. "You are going home, to sleep, and spend time with that fiance of yours to make up for your missed birthday-"

I'd forgotten about that.

"I will see you tomorrow, at nine a.m. after you speak to Clark and I speak to-" He paused, grabbing his notepad from the desk and reading a name aloud, "Danielle Montoya, Carmen's roommate."

He said it in such finality, as though nothing else in the world mattered beyond what he'd just said. I found myself nodding in agreement. Opening the door and pulling my keys free from my pocket.

Danny released my shoulders after giving me one more nudge towards my car, "Goodnight Jett."

"Goodnight Danny." I muttered back, climbing into my car and closing the door with a final glance towards the precinct.

The case would still be there tomorrow, and for now I needed the love of Jameson, as so many thoughts and memories ran through my mind.

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