A Criminal's Mind

Dump

The next morning we head back to the Altoona Police Station and began going over the evidence with the local officers, as if it is a brand new case. Ford taking point in leading the presentation of the evidence, putting a photo of Beverly Jean on the pin board, as well as photos of the crime scene. Ford points to the photo of Beverly Jean, "this is where your focus should be," I look up at the photo of the 22 year old, her straight blonde hair hanging around her face and her wide framed glasses hovering over her bright smile, she looks happy. "Not on the crime scene, not on the corpse, not on the schematics. Focus on Beverly."

"Why?" An Officer innocently asks.

"Because we need to try and see what the killer saw in her," I glance over the room, from my leaned position against one of the door frames.

"Exactly," Ford nods, "what did the killer see in her?" Ford gestures toward Tench and I, "we've learned that this is a crucial detail and not the only one."

"Based on the facts Detective Ocasek laid out earlier," Tench gestures toward Osacek, "our methodology tells us we're looking for a white male. These crimes rarely cross racial lines. He's probably around Beverly's age. A killer will usually choose someone smaller and weaker than himself."

"He's a loner, hunts at night."

Ocasek raises a hand, "I'm sorry, 'hunts'? Is that a figure of speech?"

Ford glances over to Tench and I again, "it is not."

I take a deep breath, "this individual views this act the way a hunter would. The way he tracks and hunts down an animal. The defining trait in the individuals we have studied is that they don't think other people have emotions, they think they are the only ones who can truly feel something. That's why they're able to do what they do to their victims."

"Coroner's report said Beverly was killed and then butchered. Isn't that what hunters do?" Ford looks over to Ocasek, "we're probably looking for a loner. These men like to explore the fantasy first, bondage pornography, hardcore material. It gives them a certain... attitude toward women. Hence, a loner. Close-knit community like this you would've spotted that by now. I think our man is an outsider, probably a drifter."

"Why 'I think,' and not 'we think'?" An Officer crosses their arms.

I step forward, "because while Agent Ford and I agree on every other characteristic of our unsub, I don't believe he is a drifter. I think he is just someone that would be easy for the community to overlook, someone who doesn't seem to be a loner."

"But either way, most likely, he'll kill again. Whether it's here or somewhere else," Ford looks to the officer.

"Again?" Ocasek looks between Ford and I. All we can do is nod, it is scary and haunting to think about this happening again to another young woman, but the reality is, if we don't catch this guy, he will.

Once we are finished giving the local detectives and officers the debriefing, Tench, Ford and I head to the dump with Osacek. As we drive through the front gates Ford narrows his eyes out the window, "the killer thought of Beverly Jean as just another piece of trash."

I nod, looking over some notes that Osacek was kind enough to locate for me, "like I said in the debriefing, textbook psychopath."

"Folks loved Beverly Jean," Osacek glances over to Ford, "trusted her with their kids. Had to be a drifter, like you said, Agent Ford."

Ford keeps his focus on the piles of trash we pass by, "some stranger passing through town. All that pretty hair caught his eye. He needed to possess it, then destroy it."

I clear my throat and lean forward a bit, "hey, Holden, I get that getting into the killers state of mind is how you work these cases, but starting to get a little creepy."

Tench nods, "I agree, tone it back just a little."

"Oh," Ford looks back to Tench and I, "sorry."

"You talk to the fiancé?"

"There's only so much you can get out of a man in that state," Osacek shakes his head, "Benjamin was still in shock. Gotta take all that into account."

"Well, I'm sure you know your people, but let's just cover all our bases. And let's try to get him cold. Make some excuse when you call. Don't mention the FBI or even the murder. Helps us get an unguarded response."

"Soon as Benjamin gets back into town."

"Back into town?" Ford looks over to Osacek.

"You let the fiancé leave town?" Tench does the same.

"He went up north for a bit to be with his relatives. You need to be with family at a time like this. He'll be back soon. I'll vouch for that." Osacek glances around the car, "he'll be back."

When we get to the dump sight, the mud smushes under our feet, I'm kind of disappointed I wore my heels today. I didn't even think about it being rainy last night, "need some help?" Ford asks as I put my arms up at my side to keep balance.

I nod, a bit embarrassed, "please."

"Of course," Ford nods, as I place my arm on his and he takes my hand. We have to hike over and between a few piles of trash. Ford and I cough a bit as we approach the sight. As things start to look familiar to the photos, we slow down, "where was the body found?"

"Up here to the left," Osacek nods up the way.

Once we get to the dump sight, Ford makes sure I'm stable before letting me go and climbing up the trash pile, moving a piece of trash, that looks like a car seat, "here's the ironing board." He tosses the seat to the side and looks to Osacek, disappointed.

"Right," Osacek nods, "I'll have a couple of boys come pick it up. Sorry about that."

"No apology necessary," Tench looks over to Osacek, "we're all learning as we go." Tench looks up to Ford, as if to tell him to back off.

"You can see why I went easy on the fiancé. Ugly end for someone you just proposed to."

I look over to Osacek, loosely crossing my arms, "how long were they engaged?"

"Couple months, I think."

I nod, "could be he felt trapped."

Ford looks up at the tree line, "by a pretty young blonde?"

"Different people feel trapped by different things."

"Remember what Wendy said?" Tench looks over to Osacek, "a colleague of ours, a psychologist."

"Wait," Osacek looks between Tench and I, "I thought you were the psychologist?"

I shake my head, "sadly, no. But the events we process as good news sometimes hit these killers the wrong way."

"Huh, interesting."

Ford glances back to the group, "who found the body?"

"A welder, Alvin Moran, out taking his dog for a hike."

"At the dump?"

"Does he have an alibi?" I look between Osacek and Ford.

"Alibi?" Osacek looks over to me confused, "he came to us, why's he need an alibi?"

"Sometimes the killers will insinuate himself into the investigation," Ford turns back toward us.

"Even report his own crime?"

"Mhhmm..." Tench nods.

"Can we talk to him?" Ford looks around a bit more.

"Yeah," Osacek nods.

Ford climbs down off the trash pile, coming back over to me and helps me back to the car, "next time you might want to consider more field appropriate attire."

"It's not my fault, I've been taught to never expect field work."

"It's a learning experience."