September 22, 2012
“Just sit down, will you?” Reggie Marks scolded his kid, restless eight
year old Clive. The two were sitting with their mother and a family friend a
few seats up from the front row just behind the penalty box, watching as the
Philadelphia Flyers were dismantling the Boise Pacers 6-0 midway through the
second period.
“I’m going to get something to drink,” said the burly Marks, who got up
from his seat to go to the concession stand.
“Okay, so I’ll have three hot dogs and two Cokes,” said Marks to the
attendant.
“$33.50, please,” said the attendant.
“$33.50? Are you kidding me?”
“If you didn’t eat so much, it wouldn’t cost so much.”
“Are you blaming me for being fat?”
“Did I magically force feed you the food?”
Marks then angrily tossed down $40, then left without taking his
change. As he carried his tray, raised to his shoulders to avoid hitting
people, his life changed for good.
“What the…?” exclaimed the
surprised Marks, covered in cola and the condiments from the hot dog. Someone
had given him a “drive by” poke in his gut, making him spill everything and
sending the stadium into a panic. Moments later, another person, a woman,
claimed she was poked by the perpetrator as well.
“That’s unreal. Who would do something like that?” said the horrified
Marks. “I can’t believe this guy…I’ve been irreparably violated and he doesn’t
care.”
Both Marks and the lady, Jeannine Stinson, couldn’t recall their
attacker with much precision. They asked people around them if they saw the
attacker but witnesses came up blank, as the attacker wore a hoodie to conceal
his identity. Marks and Stinson were left flabbergasted, but there was not much
they could do.
They would receive their break after the game. The Flyers completed
their 10-0 rout of Boise, and were piling out of the arena to celebrate. The
team’s first line, Sidney Crosby, Kevin Stills and Rick Nash, showed the
remarkable chemistry they were predicted to have, with the unit scoring seven
of the goals during the game. Afterward, the trio headed towards Broad Street
to do some barhopping, when Stills felt a poke in his hip from behind.
“Hey! You!” shouted Stills, who saw his attacker, a muscular man
wearing a hoodie who had his hood up so Stills couldn’t see his face following
the attack. Stills started to chase the man, who also started to run. His
linemates followed suit, but the chase was fruitless, as the trio lost the man
down a dark alley.
Stills reported the incident to the Philadelphia Police, who proceeded
to laugh in his face, mostly so they wouldn’t have to deal with what would be a
difficult case. He then took out his cell phone and placed a call.
“Hi. Zoe?” said Stills, calling Special Supervisory Agent Zoe Hawkes,
the newest member of the Federal Investigation Bureau’s Behavioural Analysis
Unit in Quantico, Virgina.
“Oh hey Kevin,” said Hawkes, delighted to hear from him. “How have you
been?”
“I’ve been better, and I was hoping to get your help. The police just
brushed me off.”
“What happened?”
“I’ve been poked.”
Hawkes immediately knew something serious was happening in
Philadelphia, and promised to bring up the issue with her team.
“Who was that?” asked Nash.
“That was Zoe Hawkes of the FBI,” said Stills. “We dated briefly last year
but we’ve remained friends. I know she’ll help me where the police won’t.”
“Oh, you’re talking about the BAU, the basis for Criminal Minds and the only force that seems to actually solve
crimes on this continent.”
“Yeah, them. Plus this is a mind-based crime, so they’re perfect for
the task.”
“Better than calling Horatio Crane.”
“WAAY better.”
The next day, the BAU’s Media and Police Liaison Jennifer Jareau, 33, known
to her team as “JJ”, called Stills and told the trio they would travel from the
FBI headquarters in Quantico to discuss the attacks. That morning, Jareau brought
up the case to her team:
-Unit Chief Aaron “Hotch” Hotchner, 45, known for his steely, no-nonsense
approach
-Senior Agent David Rossi, 60, a goateed older gentleman who had a mobster
vibe to him who serves as the team's historian being the longest tenured BAU agent
-Special Supervisory Agent Derek Morgan, 36, a former football player who
brings his athleticism and competitive fire to his job and is the de facto second
in command of the Unit. He is an expert in crime scene observation
-Special Supervisory Agent Emily Prentiss, 36, a former international
operative and is the team's linguistics expert as well as their go-to-person for interviews and interrogations.
-Special Supervisory Agent Doctor Spencer Reid, 30, an academic genius
(though socially awkward) that is the team’s academic expert with an emphasis
on behavioural analysis.
-Hawkes, 27, who, like Reid, is an academic genius, though she is sociable.
She is also an academic expert, with an emphasis on statistics and probability.
-Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia, 33, a blonde who carries her weight
well, she is sassy and playful and serves as the team’s computer expert
The BAU gained prominence following the collapse of the United States
in 1991. As police forces collapsed with it, the team- transferred with the FBI
to the auspices of the North American Union- had to take on more of a
crime-fighting role, and have been successful at it. The BAU broke into the
greater public consciousness in 2007 after they successfully took down
renowned terrorist Ian Doyle (and had to defend their tactics against a NAU
inquiry, who were worried about jurisdictional issues), two years after the team was rebuilt following a warehouse bombing in Boston just seven months prior. The TV show Criminal Minds was created in their
honour, featuring fictional characters and cases based on the real team. Though
the TV show never asserted it to be the case, a perception exists that the
show’s case portrayals are entirely accurate to reality.
“Philadelphia Flyers forward Kevin Stills reported to us that he was
poked by a random stranger last night in Philadelphia, after they had played a
preseason game against the Boise Pacers. Since his report, filed with Agent
Hawkes, two other people, 39-year-old Reggie Marks and 24-year-old Jeannie
Stinson, have also reported incidents.”
“So we have a serial poker on the loose,” replied Morgan with a sense
of urgency. “This is definitely a case for the BAU.”
“Do we know anything about the Unsub, JJ?” asked Rossi.
“Not yet,” replied Jareau. “No one got a good view of the attacker,
though preliminary reports suggest that he is a big man. Stills reported that
he was wearing a hoodie and outran him when he gave chase.”
“That explains why no one ID’ed his face,” said Prentiss. “He has to be
athletic, though, if a professional hockey player couldn’t outrun him.”
“Victimology seems to be random,” said Hotchner. “Marks is
African-American, Stinson and Stills are Caucasian. Age is all over the place.
Do we know anything about the MO?”
“From what we do know, it seems like the poker favours attacks from
behind,” replied Morgan.
“That means that with a similar style of attack they have to be the
same guy. OK gang, let’s get started,” said Hotchner authoritatively, as they
all moved to the plane to fly to Philly.
When the team arrived in Philly and met the threesome, the linemates
were greeted by Morgan.
“Hey guys, great victory last night,” said Morgan. “You guys are really
coming together as a line.”
“Thanks,” said Nash. “It’s only preseason, but we like where we’re
going.”
“I wish you guys luck, as long as you don’t beat my Blackhawks,”
replied Morgan with a smile.
“I want to know when I can meet the hot blonde,” said Crosby, referring
to Jareau.
“She’s married. Keep dreaming kid,” replied Morgan.
The next person the trio met was Reid, sporting his traditional cowlick
haircut.
“Hey, it’s the brain” said Nash. “I love Criminal Minds and the characters that are based on all of you.
I’ve also read all of your books, Reid.”
“Finally! I have a normal fan,” exclaimed Reid, excitedly.
“I’m not so sure about that,” cracked Crosby, who got a playful jab
from Nash.
The trio then headed inside to meet the rest of the team.
“Thanks for coming,” said Jareau. “Could you describe the attack in
more detail?”
“Well…here’s what I remember,” started Stills. “We’d just gotten out of
the stadium. We were ready to head downtown to celebrate at the bars. We’d gone
a full block away from the stadium when I could feel this jab coming into my
hip from behind. I at first thought it was one of my friends here but they gave
me a blank stare. I quickly turned around and shouted at the guy. We ran after
him for a couple of blocks but he lost us pretty quickly. He’s one fast mofo.”
“Mofo?” asked Hotchner, who never heard the term before.
“Mother…” started Morgan, who insinuated the next word.
“Oh. OK,” replied Hotchner. “Carry on.”
“You described him as a tall, muscular man,” said Rossi. “Do you
remember anything else about him? Anything remarkable about his dress or how he
carried himself?”
Stills paused. Rossi continued. “Think for a little bit. Even the
slightest detail could provide significant information.”
“On his wrist,” replied Stills, remembering more of the incident, “he
was wearing a brightly coloured bracelet with what looked to be a cartoon
elephant on it.”
“Child life fantasy,” replied Hawkes confidently. “I knew it.”
“Child life fantasy?” said Crosby, quizzically.
“Yes, Child life fantasy syndrome, or CLF as it is called in the
medical profession,” responded Reid. “Basically the sufferer ‘never grew up’
from when they were a child and have continued acting as if they were still a
child. They can lead somewhat normal adult lives but those lives are marred
with hyper immaturity. People with CLF have very short tempers and are prone to
outbursts at the slightest provocation.
“What’s most important, thought, is that sufferers of CLF think they
are constantly playing a game, and figuring out what game they are playing can be
a clue to understanding just how dangerous they can be. Poking is a common form
of CLF, but that, by itself isn’t enough to tell us about his threat to
society, although the majority of pokers do become dangerous. If we’re not
careful, this could escalate quickly.”
“Escalate? It’s just poking,” said Crosby.
Nash responded, as if on cue. “Sufferers of CLF are incapable of
understanding that adults are just not playing the same game that they are.
See, as mature adults, we understand that there is a time for play and a time
for work. CLF sufferers don’t understand this and thus have a hard time holding
down jobs or building meaningful relationships. Eventually, when they realize
that people are not playing their game, they snap, and it can be catastrophic.”
Crosby and Stills gave Nash a nod of approval, not realizing just how
smart he actually was.
“The thing about CLF is that it can come and go in waves,” continued
Hawkes. “The intensity of the condition can be brought upon by certain life
stressors, and more powerful episodes come when a life altering moment occurs. Therefore, we also need to
know how far along in his ‘progression’ he is so we can stop him before it is
too late.”
“CLF…never heard of this before,” said Crosby. “How common is it?”
“About one in twenty people have the condition,” replied Hawkes,
“though most don’t become dangerous. They’re just really immature. Some famous
sufferers include Homer Simpson, Michael Jackson and Al Gore.”
“Former Vice-President Al Gore?” said Crosby, surprised.
“You’d be surprised how it manifests itself,” said Reid.
“So what seperates CLF from being mentally handicapped or autism?” asked Stills.
“The difference is in physiology,” said Hawkes. “A mental handicap
involves the brain itself being physically underdeveloped in some capacity…CLF
is a delusion, and is strictly psychological. CLF sufferers are still highly
functioning members of society, but they are under the delusion that they are
still children and are aware of this. Someone who is mentally handicapped is
still, for all intents and purposes, a child.”
“So let me get this straight,” replied Stills, “Someone who is mentally
handicapped is actually a child whereas someone with CLF merely pretends to be
a child?”
“That’s right,” said Reid.
“I’m glad you came to us,” said Morgan. “Citizens far too often
overlook CLF, and some crimes that could have been avoided occur far too
often.”
“Well, as we all know,” replied Crosby confidently, “you guys are the
only ones that actually solve any crimes out there. The police in North America
can be quite useless.”
“It’s one thing Criminal Minds
got right,” said Nash. “It’s understandable, though, given what happened after
the Cold War.”
Morgan smiled, then discussed the show a bit more. He never hated
pointing out the flaws in the program. “We shake our heads sometimes thinking
about Criminal Minds. It’s a very
entertaining program, though it’s not completely accurate. We can work on over
100 cases a year, and oftentimes we have to work on two or three at the same
time. They can also take weeks or months to complete. I mean, we’d all love it
if crimes only happened one at a time so we could devote all of our energy into
them before moving on to the next case, but that just doesn’t happen in real
life. Also, a lot of cases are dramatized and sensationalized for television,
but we understand why they do it. It’s entertainment…not all of our cases
really lend themselves to entertainment…they can be quite boring. Plus, they
don’t know all of our methods, for a very good reason- obviously, the FBI won’t
reveal all of their tricks.”
“You guys are already aware that the show’s team are fictional
characters based on us,” continued Rossi, his dulcet tones increasing in intensity as he warmed to the subject, “and that, while they say their
episodes are based on real episodes, they’re all fictionalized to a certain
degree, if not made up entirely. The narrative isn't true to reality- it's a bit all over the place. Most of the public doesn’t know what parts of
the program are actually accurate but we do- because we worked them. I can’t go
into all the inconsistencies, but the main one is Erin Strauss. On the show, it's depicted that Strauss- who was actually the FBI director- used Emily Prentiss as a mole for the team so that she can give information about Aaron and Jason Gideon to sabotage their careers. That part is true, but show doesn't tell you that she was fired for her actions, since they had no merit. We now report to Lucius Black.”
“Plus, their depictions of us do have some inaccuracies,” said
Prentiss. “I mean, I have a cute and sensitive side…I love giving hugs.”
“So where’s mine?” slyly asked Crosby.
“Fat chance,” retorted Prentiss. She then continued. “Also, while Morgan is strong both physically and
mentally, he does have a few irrational fears. I mean, if he sees a spider he
screams like a little girl.”
“I do not!” replied Morgan sternly. Then, as if on cue, a spider darted
across the floor right where Morgan was, who did react like a little girl upon
seeing it.
“Oh Morgan,” responded Reid, smugly. He then coolly stomped on the
spider, eliminating the threat as the whole room laughed.
“I told you spiders are his kryptonite,” cracked Prentiss.
“Another thing,” said Reid, as if he made another discovery, “the show
doesn’t seem to mention that people actually do laugh at my jokes.”
“No, they still don’t,” responded Morgan, sardonically. Reid smiled and
shrugged, admitting defeat.
“Criminal Minds operates like
most forms of entertainment- it requires the ‘suspension of disbelief’,” said
Reid, starting to recover from his past statement. “The basic premise is that
you’re asking the audience to momentarily forget what they’re watching is
fictional in exchange for providing the audience with a believable story. You
aren’t required to provide something that is realistically accurate- rather,
what you are required to provide is something that is merely plausible. In
other words, the writer needs to make sure that their story is simply a
possible explanation for what happened- it does not have to be definitive.
“The burden of proof in the public eye isn’t very large. This is
largely because the greater public, for whatever reason, has a limited
knowledge of the field that is the focus of the story- in our case, the FBI and
its procedures. It’s that premise that allows conspiracy theories and
‘alternate explanations’ such as creationism or 9/11 conspiracy theories to
gain traction, because they can only be shown to be illogical if the person has
a deeper understanding of the subject in question. However, the motivation
isn’t dishonesty as is the case with something like creationism- it’s merely
creative. As Morgan said before, quite a few of our cases are pretty mundane
and since the FBI can’t reveal all its tricks, to make things entertaining you
do have to play with the poetic license a little bit, as long as you promise
not to stretch it too far.
“Which is a perfect segue into the case,” said Reid, smiling at
Hotchner because he knew he was agitated at the diversion from the task at
hand, “because CLF sufferers don’t understand what the ‘suspension of disbelief’
really is. They don’t understand that the public isn’t playing the same game.”
“I guess our time is up,” said Stills. “Thanks guys.”
“You’re welcome,” replied Hotchner. “We’ll keep in touch. We think you
guys will be valuable to the investigation. This kind of unsub, though a random
attacker, does develop a bond with his victims, so be on the lookout.”
“Okay,” said Nash, as the three of them departed, with Prentiss hugging
Nash and Stills but not Crosby.
Later that day, the team split up and met with both Marks and Stinson
at the same time, hoping to receive more clues. Reid stayed at the command
centre at the Philadelphia Police Chief’s department, since his expertise
wasn’t in interviewing but in analysis, while Garcia stayed in her customary office
at Quantico to serve as the team’s informational gatherer.
There’s not a whole lot to work
with, thought Reid. All we know is
from the victim statements and since none of them saw the attacker with much
precision or dealt with them for a long time, there isn’t a lot to go on.
However, I have succeeded with less, so let’s get started.
People with CLF like to play a
game with other members of the public…we know that. Pokers are especially
obsessive and the most prolific, since they can play the game with the most
amount of people without getting caught. Since the UnSub went to great lengths
to conceal his identity and ran at every instance, this has to be a game like
‘Hide and Seek’. It could very well be inverted, where the target is being
poked, is blindfolded and has to find all the people who are poking them. However, the targets all followed each other, indicating that the UnSub seems to have a particular order. I wonder if there is any
significance to the fact that Reggie Marks was carrying food…
“I just got up to get food,” said Marks. “I was with my son. We were
having a great time.”
“What happened immediately before your poke?” asked Prentiss.
“I was at the concession stand…I ordered my food. I had a ‘nice’
exchange with the concession attendant…he said that I was fat. I didn’t like
that very much.”
“It’s OK brother,” said Morgan. “I feel you. Do you think the
concession attendant was the one who attacked you?”
“No…he was a scrawny kid,” replied Marks with a bit of a snarl. “Knew that
if he messed with me, he’d get a poundin’. No, this guy was a big guy…bigger
than me. That says something.”
“Do you think he knew the attendant and lashed out because you were
rude to him?” asked Hotchner.
“I’m not sure…I didn’t really focus much on who was around me,” replied
Marks.
“Think a little bit,” urged Morgan.
“You know…there was something,” said Marks with a spark. “I remember
looking back at the attendant and I saw him laughing.”
“A lot of people probably were though,” responded Prentiss.
“I know…but there was something about the attendant’s laugh that made
it seem like he enjoyed it on a different level,” said Marks. “This was
personal.”
“Did the attendant say or do anything other than laugh?” pressed
Morgan.
“I think I heard him say ‘1500 points’ or something like that,” said
Marks.
“Thank you,” responded Morgan. Later, the trio analyzed what they
gathered.
“So Reggie Marks gets poked immediately after he had an exchange with
the concession stand attendant,” noted Morgan.
“The attendant appeared involved as well,” said Prentiss, “but we don’t
know if it was opportunistic or if he helped out in the attack.
“There was also a point total uttered, which backs up the game theory,”
said Morgan.
“It could be just an expression,” said Hotchner. “He could still be
targeting people at random and that’s the game he plays. Let’s see what the
others got before we draw a conclusion.”
“I was just milling about the concourse,” said Stinson, teary-eyed. “He
came out of nowhere…there was nothing I could do.”
“It’s okay,” said Jareau, comforting her by rubbing her shoulder.
“What were you doing immediately before the attack?” asked Rossi.
“I was just wandering…the game was pretty much over, so I was just out
for a stretch,” said Stinson.
“Did you talk on your cell phone…venture to a concession stand…make
small talk with anyone?” asked Hawkes.
“No…I was just walking,” said Stinson. “I mean, I called my boyfriend
who was in the stands, but that was well before…” Stinson again started to cry.
“Would you like us to come back later?” asked a concerned Rossi.
“…sorry…I’m sorry…no…stay. I can do this,” said Stinson, again being
comforted by Jareau.
“So you were just walking around…taking in the sights…and then…it
happened,” rationalized Hawkes. “Can you think a little bit more about the
attacker?”
“Zoe…she’s traumatized by him…we have to be delicate,” said Jareau.
“I told my boyfriend I would be strong…” replied Stinson, doing her
best to hold back her tears.
“I know it’s hard,” said Hawkes, who sounded apologetic, “but…I’m
thinking that if you weren’t doing anything special this poker knew you.”
“There was something I recognized,” said Stinson, remembering. “A star
necklace. I remember there was this guy who bought me coffee earlier in the
day, just out of the blue. So I gave it to him to thank him for his kind deed.”
“Then what happened?” asked Rossi.
“Well…he asked me for my number…I told him I had a boyfriend…he wasn’t
too happy about that,” replied Stinson.
“How did he take the rejection?” asked Jareau.
“He just said ‘OK’ and walked away,” said Stinson. “I didn’t think it
would lead to this.”
“What’s his name?” asked Jareau.
“We never got to that point…as soon as I gave him the necklace he asked
for my number,” said Stinson.
“What did he look like?” asked Rossi.
“Black hair, white, like myself…big guy,” said Stinson. “Tall. Had a
goatee. Brown eyes and a Roman nose.”
Rossi then interrupted the interview to take a phone call from
Prentiss.
“Jeannie…we’re talking to the other victim, Mr. Reggie Marks,” said
Rossi. “He said the poker received ‘1500 points’ for the attack on Marks…did he
make a similar declaration around you?”
“He did,” responded Stinson enthusiastically. “I only got 500. That’s
how I bumped into Reggie…because it was odd to hear a point total come out.” Stinson
paused for a moment and then continued.
“There’s one other thing you should know,” said Stinson. “Earlier in
the day, when I saw him…he had a bit of a limp when he walked and seemed to
clutch his knee every now and then. I don’t know if that means anything.”
“It means a lot,” said Hawkes, now alarmed.
“Am…am I in danger?” responded a terrified Stinson.
“We believe he is a sufferer of a condition called ‘Child Life
Fantasy’,” responded Hawkes plainly. “Those who contract the condition through
injury are the most at risk for escalation, but we don’t believe you are in any
danger. Rather, the target of the escalation is someone specific, someone they
know on a more personal level.”
“Thank you for your time,” said Rossi as the three left.
At the police station, the team gathered what they knew and delivered
the profile for the local authorities.
“We are looking for a white male, aged 25-30,” started Hotchner. “He is
tall with black hair and brown eyes and may be sporting a goatee.”
“He is a sufferer of ‘Child Life Fantasy’, meaning he believes he’s
constantly playing a game with the public,” continued Reid.
“He is a high functioning member of society,” continued Prentiss, “but
he is prone to immaturity, likely so bad that he cannot hold down a job or a
steady relationship.”
“So look for anyone who fits this description who bounced around from
job to job with a history of termination for immature acts,” concluded Morgan.
“Thank you for your time,” said Hotchner.
“Okay, so Reid and Hawkes…you two figure out what kind of game this
unsub is playing,” said Hotchner. “The rest of us are going to pay this
concession stand attendant a vist.”
“Hey baby girl,” said Morgan, calling Garcia.
“That never gets old,” cooed Garcia. “How can I service you today?”
“Well, I need you to get the whipped cream…”
“…oooh…feeling adventurous today Derek?”
Morgan replied with a smirk. “I’m always adventurous.”
“Just the way I like it.”
“I need you to look up who was working near Reggie Marks’ seats the
night of the game. The concession stand attendant may have ID’ed the unsub.”
Garcia typed away for a few seconds and came up with the answer. “Eric
Spiller, he lives on 134 Castleview Avenue…sending the info to your phones.”
“Thanks baby doll…and save me some of that whipped cream for when I get
back.”
“You got it.” Garcia could then be heard spraying whipped cream into
her mouth before cutting off her phone.
Five minutes later, the team was at Spiller’s door.
“Eric Spiller, this is the FBI!” sternly yelled Hotchner. “You are
under arrest.”
Spiller’s father opened the door.
“What are you doing here?” asked the bemused father. “Eric is 17…he’s
just a kid.”
“Mr. Spiller, your son is wanted for aiding and abetting a crime. We
have a witness report that said he egged on a serial poker.”
Eric’s father didn’t hesitate. “There he is!” He pointed fortuitously
at his son, playing Xbox on the family’s TV.”
“Eric Spiller!” hollered Morgan. “You are under arrest for aiding and
abetting a serial poker. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say
or do can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to
an attorney. If you cannot afford one the state will appoint one for you. Do
you understand your rights?”
The team hauled Spiller off for questioning.
Meanwhile, Reid and Hawkes were getting headway into solving the riddle
of the game.
“From what I’ve gathered, this has to be a target based game,” noted
Reid. "The targets all followed each other so there has to be some kind of order."
"Makes sense," replied Hawkes, "64% of all poking games are goal-oriented."
“Someone with CLF would likely start with someone smaller because that’s how kid bullies work and then go to the bigger person. Did we get anything out of the interviews?”
"Makes sense," replied Hawkes, "64% of all poking games are goal-oriented."
“Someone with CLF would likely start with someone smaller because that’s how kid bullies work and then go to the bigger person. Did we get anything out of the interviews?”
“He received point totals for every poke he made,” responded Hawkes.
“So this definitely is a goal-based game.”
“Hit a certain amount of points, then go after the next target.”
“Right.”
“Jeannie Stinson’s poke was worth only 500 points and came before
Reggie Marks’ poke. Which makes sense…but why the leap in points? Going from
500 to 1500 points doesn’t sound like a natural progression…500 to 1000 would
make sense.”
“Yes, but he was contacted by the attendant. Those are bonus points.”
“So Marks’ poke came with an extra 500 points because the attendant led
him to the attack…and the attendant had to spur him on or else it’d be a
penalty.”
“Okay…so we know that Stinson knew the attacker…but it doesn’t appear
like Marks knew him. So how do they connect?”
“Well, Stinson rejected him earlier in the day and Marks was rude to
the attendant.”
“That makes the targets ‘correctional targets’, chosen so that he can
‘correct’ whatever wrong they committed.”
“That means Marks was still part of the game because he committed a
wrong that needed to be corrected- being rude to the attendant.”
“That makes sense.”
“Did Kevin know the target? We need to know if he did something that
needed ‘correcting’.”
“Let’s call Kevin.”
“Hey Kevin,” said Hawkes. “How are you today?”
“I’m trying to move on,” said Stills. “It’s difficult.”
“I know.” Hawkes was concerned for her friend, but she had to do her
job. “Listen, I need to ask you a bit more about the attacker.”
“OK. Shoot.” Stills was still upset about the attack, but he knew if he
helped he’d get some closure.
“Do you remember an incident where you caused an injury or a suspension
or something like that?”
“There was this one time…I was playing with the Flyers’ youth team at a
special tournament. I tried to hit this guy but he sidestepped me and his knee
hit mine. He had to leave the game.”
“Do you remember who you hit?”
“I don’t recall…we never played them before and it was on the first
shift, so I didn’t know who he was.”
“Thanks.”
“Okay,” said Hawkes, turning her attention to Reid, who listened to the
conversation, “so we have something…just not a name.”
“Let’s call Garcia, see what she knows.”
The duo dialed Garcia and put her on speaker. “Hello happy campers!”
beamed Garcia.
“I could hug you all day,” responded Hawkes. “You’re just so cute.”
“Right back at ya,” replied Garcia.
“Garcia,” said Reid, “Kevin Stills said he caused a knee injury to
another player but because it was on the first shift and it was during a
special tournament he couldn’t ID who he hit. Can you help us?”
“I’m looking into it now…” said Garcia, whose computer responded in a
few minutes. “Ouch. We have a game between the Philadelphia Flyers and the
Moose Jaw Tunnels at the Herb Brooks Memorial Tournament at Trenton, New Jersey
where a one George Yarbo accused Stills of instigating a knee on knee
collision…tore up his anterior cruciate ligament or ACL…had to be forced out of
hockey. He subsequently tried to hold on to various jobs with the Tunnels but kept getting let go because of immaturity.”
“How long ago was this?” asked Hawkes.
“On April 13, 2012,” responded Garcia.
“Where was he treated?” asked Reid.
“Since the game was in Trenton, he went to the Princeton-Plainsboro
Teaching Hospital in Princeton, New Jersey. It had to have been some injury,
because none other than Dr. House treated him."
"Do we have an
address?" asked Hawkes.
"Unfortunately,
since the incident, he's left no paper trail," said Garcia. "He
rarely did, even when he played. He was hard to track before but he's even
harder now."
“Thanks Garcia,” said Reid.
“Reggie Marks. Jeannie Stinson. Kevin Stills. Do they mean anything to
you?” Prentiss said forcefully to Spiller.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” said a bemused Spiller.
“They were all poked by a person you provoked!”
“I got nothing to do with that. That’s on the other guy.”
“So why were you laughing with interest when Reggie Marks got poked?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“We got it all on tape. You can’t hide from it.”
“Poking someone is funny. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one laughing.”
Prentiss got incredulous. “You two had an exchange right after he
ordered and right before the poke. How can you tell me you weren’t involved?”
“We just had a chat. He was next in line. I like being friendly.”
Prentiss continued in her trademark sarcastic snarl. “You know, there’s something you’re not telling me. We have evidence
that you aided and abetted the poker…so, we can make this easy…you give me what
I want and I just might be able to get you out of going to jail. Or I just walk
out of here and I’ll say you obstructed a continental investigation.”
“Easy man, easy.” Spiller was trembling. “He said he was playing
“Target Poker”…he said everyone in the concourse was playing it…so I pointed
out the fat guy…if he poked him and made his food fall on the floor it’d be
worth 1000 points, just what he needed to get to the next level; and because I
goaded him into the poke, he got an extra 500 points to advance another level. I didn’t know
he didn’t know those guys.”
Prentiss smiled. She was then pulled out of the room by Hotchner.
“Hotch, what is it?” asked Prentiss.
“Reid has something,” said Hotchner.
“Guys…we got a name from Garcia,” said Reid. “The unsub had a run in
with Stills, who tore his knee during a game played in Philadelphia. We ID’ed
him as a one George Yarbo, of Dog River, Saskatchewan. However, he was treated
for his knee injury in the area, at the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital
in Princeton, New Jersey by Dr. Gregory House. He may be going there to get
some revenge on House.”
“So what do we make of Spiller?” asked Prentiss.
“I doubt he’s got anything to do with the case…the way the game works,
he got involved opportunistically,” said Reid.
“Let’s keep Spiller here for now,” said Hotchner. “He still has
possibly committed a crime.”
The team then got together to hear about the game that Reid and Hawkes
revealed.
“The game that George Yarbo is playing is called ‘Target Poker’,”
started Reid. “It’s a goal-based game where the player must achieve a certain
amount of points with one target before he can move on to the next target. In
this version of the game, the targets are specific, and they’re all targets
that have wronged him in some way.”
“We believe that Jeannie Stinson was the first victim,” said Hawkes. “She
became the first target because she ‘immediately’ wronged him, and the point
total for that is 500 points.”
“How did Yarbo know that Stinson was going to the hockey game?” asked
Morgan.
“We believe it was just dumb luck,” replied Reid. “Since the first
victim could be *anyone* that committed an immediate wrong he’d have no problem
finding a victim. He just happened to chance upon Stinson at the game.”
“He doesn’t get any bonus points for that?” asked Prentiss.
“No, because this was the first victim,” replied Hawkes.
“So how does he get to Marks?” asked Jareau.
“Marks is the second level, which represents someone who is ‘like
him’,” said Hawkes. “That is worth 1000 points.”
“However, because the attendant got involved and pointed Marks out to
Yarbo, there’s an extra 500 points for a 1500 point total,” said Reid.
“Spiller said that the 1500 allows him to skip a level,” inquired Rossi. “So does that make
Stills Level 4?”
“No, it doesn’t,” said Hawkes. “Level 3 is known as the ‘instigator’
level, where the player must get the target who got him into this mess. You
can’t skip this level. In this case, it’s Stills.”
“Level 4 is the person who rehabilitated him, because it signals the
start of redemption,” said Reid. “That would be Dr. House.”
“However, he can skip that level,” said Rossi. “So we’re at the endgame
then.”
“Not quite,” said Hawkes. “There’s a fifth level, the Comrade Level,
where he must find someone who suffered with him.”
“Then it’s the final level…and this is where it’s most scary,” said
Reid. “It’s the person who committed the ultimate rejection where he must
‘right’ it…and this could get ugly.”
“Let’s get to House first,” said Hotchner. “So far we haven’t heard if
he’s been poked so we have to assume that’s where he’s going.”
“However, if he can skip a level we should also look at the people
involved in that level,” said Prentiss.
“Correct,” said Hotchner. “Garcia, get me the names of the people who
were treated for knee injuries on the same day that Yarbo was treated.”
“You got it,” replied Garcia.
In five minutes, Garcia came up with a list of six names, a
surprisingly high total of knee surgeries at the renowned Princeton hospital.
“How come on the television show they always come up with one guy?”
said Hotchner, shaking his head.
“Because that’s television and this is reality,” responded Garcia. “Not
much I can do.” Hotchner proceeded to organize the Pennsylvania County police
force to give 24 hour protection for the potential targets against Yarbo, as
well as notifying airports in case he attempted to fly. The team, without
Garcia (who stayed behind) went to Princeton.
After entering the hospital, the team managed to run into House during
a break from surgeries.
“Dr. House,” said Reid. “This is Agent Dr. Spencer Reid of the FBI, do
you have a moment?”
“You? An agent in the FBI? And a Doctor?” said House incredulously. “I
think you’re just trying to get out of multiplication class.”
“May I remind you that you are talking to a federal agent,” said
Rossi angrily towards House.
“Who peed in your Cornflakes?” said House sarcastically.
“Dr. House,” said Hotchner sternly, jumping in. “If you continue with
this attitude we will cite you for disrespecting a federal agent. Do I make
myself clear?”
“OK fine,” said House, admitting defeat. “Still, if you’re here for the
Vicodin, you should know that was just on T.V.”
“We’re not here for that,” said Prentiss. “We believe you may be in
danger.”
“I’m surprised that I’m in
danger,” said a surprised House. “I walk with a cane…I couldn’t put up much of
a fight against anyone.”
“It’s George Yarbo,” responded Prentiss. “He’s playing a poking game
and we believe you could be next in line.”
“Child Life Fantasy…” said House in a “Eureka” moment. “I should have
seen it.” House paused for a moment and then continued.
“Right after I treated him he started to poke me,” recalled House.
“Incessantly. I had to put him under sedatives to make him stop. When he woke
up, I reminded him about the sedatives and he went back to normal.”
“…but wait…you’d be at Level 4 we figure…” noted Hawkes. “Why is he
playing this game out of order?”
“There’s a variant to the game…where you can start at Level 4…” said
Reid, recalling the information.
“That’s right,” said House. “It’s called the ‘Opportunistic
Exception’…you can only invoke it once and he did at that time.”
“Right…the Opportunistic Exception…how did we miss it Spencer?” said
Hawkes.
“Looks like we’re just humans after all, Zoe,” said Reid with a smile.
“It also explains the cooling off period,” continued Hawkes.
“So because he invokes the rule, he has to wait before participating
again, am I right?” asked Morgan.
“Exactly,” said Reid. “By rule, if you invoke the Opportunistic
Exception, you have to wait four months before you can go to Level One as a
quasi penalty for skipping levels. He just waited until now because he didn’t
have the opportunity to visit Philadelphia.”
“Does this mean he won’t skip Level 5?” asked Jareau.
“No, he still can,” said Hawkes.
“So our time here is done,” said Rossi. “I think we need to visit
Saskatchewan.”
The team thanked House for his time and got on the plane for Dog River,
as Hotchner later found out that Yarbo did indeed fly to Saskatchewan earlier
in the day.
“JJ, what is it?” asked Hotchner to Jareau on the flight to
Saskatchewan.
“Hotch…we both have children,” replied Jareau. “You have Jack and I
have Henry. Think about how much life and energy they bring…not just to themselves
but to us as well.”
“So you’re wondering how something so innocent could be seen as so
dangerous.”
“I mean, when kids do it we fall in love with it…but when adults do it,
we ridicule it.”
“The difference is we understand kids don’t know when the game is over
because we have to tell them. Adults should already know this and need us to
tell them when they don’t.”
After the team landed in Dog River, they were greeted by the town’s
police staff, consisting of just Sergeant Davis Quinton and Constable Karen
Pelly.
“Hotch! Rossi! Nice to see you guys,” beamed Quinton as he shook their
hands. “David, I have read your books many times…I never knew the criminal mind
could be so complex…it’s almost like tying your shoe.”
“Is he all there?” asked Rossi to Pelly.
“I don’t think any of him is
there,” responded Pelly.
“I never thought I’d see the day the BAU would come to Dog River,” said
Quinton. “It’s an honour and a pleasure to have you here. I do want to know why
you guys don’t answer my calls though.”
“Davis, having a flat tire is not a case for the BAU,” responded
Hotchner curtly.
“See what I mean?” said Pelly, giving the “screw loose” gesture.
“I see what you mean,” replied Rossi.
“We have a very specific reason why we’re here,” said Jareau to Quinton
and Pelly. “We need to find George Yarbo. Do you know anything about him?”
“Ah…George…Hank’s brother,” responded Pelly. “We don’t see him much
around here…he always seems to be on the move, mostly because of hockey.”
“Then he had that ‘accident’,” lamented Quinton. “Stills was reckless.
I think he hit him on purpose.”
“The whole town thinks the same way,” noted Pelly.
“Makes sense…have to stick by your comrades,” responded Rossi.
“What makes you think he’s coming back to Dog River?” asked Pelly.
“He’s playing a game of ‘Target Poker’,” responded Reid, “and this is
his final level.”
“So? It’s just childish fun…what’s wrong with it?” asked Quinton as he
got amused by flipping his phone cover back and forth.
“What’s wrong is that George poked three people who didn’t deserve it,”
said Morgan forcefully,
closing Quinton’s phone.
“I see…this is a serious case,” said Pelly, who renewed her sense of
urgency.
“Do you know where we can find George?” asked Hotchner.
“I’m not sure about George,” responded Pelly, “but you can find Hank at
the gas station. He’ll be able to help.”
As expected, Hank was at the station along with Brent Leroy, the
station’s owner, Brent's
father Oscar, and Brent’s single employee Wanda Dollard. The three of them were
having an argument about asparagus when the BAU interrupted.
“Which one of you is Hank Yarbo?” asked Prentiss. As if on cue, Dollard
and Brent pointed to Hank, who hung his head.
“OK fine…I’ll pay all of you back…” sulked Hank. “I didn’t think it was
so serious that we needed the FRU.”
“FBI…” said Prentiss with a sigh. “What’s wrong with this town?”
“We haven’t figured that out ourselves,” replied Dollard sardonically.
“How can we help you?” asked Brent in his trademark sheepish tone.
“Brent! They’re the RBI! Those jackasses don’t need our help! Get away
jackasses!” shouted Oscar.
“Dad! It’s FBI and they haven’t done anything to us,” replied Brent.
“Relax.” Brent paused before continuing. “Excuse him, he’s got a few screws
loose.”
“He’s not the only one,” responded Rossi.
“We need to find George Yarbo,” said Morgan. “We believe he’s coming
back to this town and could be putting someone here in danger.”
“George? Danger? That’s the first I heard of that,” said a surprised
Dollard. “Unless…you’re talking about CLF.”
“Wow…there’s someone here who’s not dumb,” exclaimed Prentiss.
“Don’t get too excited…it’s just Karen and I around here,” replied
Dollard. “Anyhow…CLF…I think Hank’s got it too.”
“I do not!” shouted Hank defensively.
“This despite the fact you’re proudly wearing a Dora the Explorer shirt and have the intellectual capacity of an
eight year old,” said Rossi in his dry wit.
“Hey! I love Dora,” remonstrated Hank, “and how dare you say I have the
Internet tendency of an eight year old! I know how to find Barney the
Dinosaur.”
“I said intellectual…never mind,” said Rossi, before giving up trying
to reason with Hank.
“OK Hank,” said Morgan fiercely, “tell us where your brother is or we
will charge you with obstructing justice.”
“Well…after his knee got attacked he was supposed to come back here,” quivered
Hank. “However, none of us have ever seen him.”
“He makes less sense than Hank,” said Dollard. “That says something.”
“He’s playing a game called ‘Target Poker’ and we believe his endgame
is up here in Dog River,” said Rossi. “Do you know what his target could be?”
“Well,” started Brent, “he did get kneed by that hockey player.”
“That hockey player already reported an incident to us, and he’s not
‘the last level’,” said Rossi.
“What is the last level?” asked Brent.
“It’s the one of ‘Ultimate Rejection’,” replied Dollard. “The one he
has the most anger towards.”
“Who would that be?” asked Prentiss.
“Oh. That’s easy,” said Brent. “He’s after Lacey Burrows. He was the
love of his life and she never batted an eye towards him.”
“Where can we find Lacey?” asked Prentiss.
“She owns The Ruby across the street, I’d go there,” said Brent.
“Thank you,” replied Prentiss.
“She’s going to be okay, right?” asked a worried Brent.
“We’re going to do our best,” answered Jareau.
“I mean, I haven’t checked up on her for over an hour because it’s past
lunch time,” said Brent. “I didn’t have a reason to go over there. I didn’t
realize she was in trouble.”
“I know you feel guilty, it’s normal,” said Jareau in a calming tone,
“this kind of thing you can’t predict, so there’s not much you can do.”
Outside The Ruby, everything looked okay, but the team was still
cautious. Morgan took the lead with regards to entering the premises, and
noticed the door wouldn’t open.
“He’s here,” cautioned Morgan. “He’s blockaded the door.” He then
proceeded to kick the door down, along with the chair that was propping it
closed. “Amateur,” continued Morgan, shaking his head.
The team entered the diner to find Lacey Burrows bound and gagged
hanging from the ceiling and Emma Leroy, Oscar’s wife and Brent’s mother who
happened to be a customer at the wrong time, bound and gagged sitting on the floor.
Right next to Burrows was George Yarbo, who was in the process of undoing her
blouse.
“George Yarbo! FBI!” screamed Hotchner. “If you undo one more button,
we will shoot.”
Yarbo took a few deep breaths before collecting himself. “OK. I’m going
to step away,” said Yarbo. He did step away briefly, before unhooking Burrows,
kicking down a chair blocking the nearby exit and bolting out of the café,
Burrows carried over his shoulder.
“Go!” Hotchner ordered to Morgan, who gave Yarbo chase. He was followed
out by Prentiss, with the duo followed by Quinton and Pelly, who were guarding
the back door as well as reinforcements from other Saskatchewan police units,
though none could keep up with either Morgan or Yarbo.
Yarbo and Morgan ran for some distance in the nearby field, with the
chase going on for some 15 minutes. Eventually, with Yarbo just past the border
with rival town Wullerton, Morgan caught up with him. Morgan drew his gun but
Yarbo was quick, dropping Burrows and tackling Morgan to the ground in one
quick act.
What followed was a fist fight for the ages. Morgan uppercutted Yarbo
from the ground, allowing him to escape from the ground and get the fight with
both of them standing up. Yarbo again charged Morgan, but the swift Morgan
ducked, grabbed Yarbo’s arm and flipped him to the ground. Yarbo, though was
equal to the task, taking his foot and tripping Morgan.
Morgan, though, being the swifter one, successfully rolled away from
Yarbo’s attempt to jump on him and got back to his feet. Yarbo took a swing at
Morgan but missed, with his failure to connect allowing Morgan to grab his left
leg, flip him over and tackle him to the ground. By this point, Morgan had been
able to get on top of his back and restrain more movement, grabbing both of his
arms and bounding his wrists with handcuffs.
“That’s what you get for messin’ with the BAU,” snarled Morgan, victoriously.
“Did I miss the fun part?” exclaimed Prentiss, who just arrived on the
scene. Pelly wasn’t far behind, and tended to Burrows, who held on to Pelly
tightly and started to feel better.
“Sorry we took so long,” said Pelly. “We got lost in the field.”
“It’s okay,” said Morgan. “I could handle him all by myself.”
“I can see that,” said Prentiss, impressed.
Later that night, Burrows and her friends hosted the BAU at The Ruby to
celebrate George Yarbo’s capture.
“I can’t thank you guys enough,” said Burrows to the team. “I was
worried about my life…George never understood when to stop.”
“You’re welcome,” replied Morgan. “I’m glad we could be of some
assistance.”
“What happened to you, Emma?” asked Reid.
“Oh, wrong place wrong time,” replied Emma. “I was merely a guest when
George just barged right in. I tried to say hello because I hadn’t seen him in
a while but he bound me instead. I thought, ‘well he sure knew his manners.’ So
how did you guys figure out that he’d be here?”
“He was playing a game called ‘Target Poker’,” explained Hawkes. “We
knew Lacey would be the final target, and everyone knew she worked here. It was
just a matter of figuring out the puzzle.”
The team ordered their food and were impressed with the results.
“The food here is great,” said Jareau.
“I agree,” concurred Rossi. “I think we need to get a location in
Quantico.”
“I just might be able to arrange that,” beamed Burrows.
Quinton and Pelly joined the team at their table.
“That was more excitement than I’ve ever seen in this town,” noted
Quinton.
“The good part is that we got the guy,” responded Morgan.
“I have new found respect for you guys,” said Quinton.
“Thanks,” replied Jareau.
“We’re always here to help, whenever you need us,” said Rossi.
“Maybe you can get Oscar to start doing his chores,” said Emma.
“I think you’re on your own there,” responded Rossi, with a smirk.
Later that day, Reid and Morgan went with Hank Yarbo on a tour of the
town.
“So is there anything to see around here?” asked Reid.
“Well, we do have a pile of wood,” replied Hank.
“Is it shaped like anything?”
“Yeah,” said Hank, enthusiastically, “it’s pile-shaped.”
Morgan wore a bemused look on his face but Reid was still intrigued. “Show
this pile to me,” said Reid.
Hank then showed Reid and Morgan the wood pile he was talking about.
Reid became fixated on the wood and made a discovery.
“This is wood taken from the Appalachian Redwood, which died out more
than 200 years ago,” said Reid. “You can tell by its cut marks that it was
grown here…this is fascinating.”
“Oh Reid…only you can get enamoured by a pile of wood,” said Morgan.
“Did you guys do anything to the wood to make it last this long?” asked
Reid.
“Uhh…” started Hank, “I didn’t even pay that much attention to the wood…I
just thought it was some random pile.”
“That’s because it is,” responded Reid. “I just made all that stuff up.”
Hank looked befuddled as Morgan bellowed in laughter.
“Now no one can say that they didn’t laugh at my jokes,” cracked Reid.
“Hey, now you’re right kid,” responded Morgan, as the two of them
walked away to rejoin the team at the town’s lone hotel before flying home the
next day.
I love this cameo about Reid's necrophilia!
ReplyDeleteAnd House,nice to see him again!!!
Great job,Sir!
MNight I understand that these Crosby,Still,etc,etc you make mention of,are the very well known musicians?
ReplyDeleteThank you for your kind words, they mean a lot. :) I'm not sure where you're drawing the necrophilia from, but it is interesting- what are you interpreting as necrophilia?
ReplyDeleteAs for Crosby, Stills and Nash: these ones are the hockey players. Sidney Crosby and Rick Nash are real (though my characterizations of them are fake) and Kevin Stills is fictional. I figured they could be the offensive catalysts for the Philadelphia Flyers hockey team, and I created Stills so that when people think of the trio on the ice, they make a reference to the musicians. The three guys will have other adventures soon- maybe they'll meet the BAU again. :p