American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop

As Jack and Morgan Brody were about to leave, they noticed Hotchner talking to Roy Coulson. The reporter and author had just arrived on the scene after somehow receiving the news. 

Roy Coulson seemed to have made up his mind. He wasn't planning on writing about the deal between Shonas and the "Boston Reaper," in exchange for Hotchner's earlier promise.

"That guy's pretty sharp. Even if he adds that part to his book after the case is solved, it won't break his promise, and he gets to keep your friendship," Jack commented while they were driving back to the office.

Hotchner was more philosophical. "It's his livelihood. I don't begrudge him. The moment he agreed to donate his royalties to the victims' families, he earned my friendship."

Once they picked up Finlay, everyone returned to the FBI's Boston office. It was still before 2 AM. JJ brought two pots of coffee, which tasted barely better than mop water, as the team began to analyze the string of numbers on the bus window.

"He's never used a code before. What could these numbers mean?" Rossi pointed to the screen displaying the photo Reid had taken of the bus window.

"1488 201 1439."

These three groups of numbers were written on three different bus windows. Jack frowned, feeling a sense of familiarity, but he couldn't recall where he'd seen them before.

Reid had been pondering over the numbers since they returned but couldn't crack them either.

"They're not a cipher or a formula. Mathematically, they don't seem to hold any significance."

Hotchner, however, had a new train of thought. "Remember what George Foyer said? The 'Reaper' liked to attack private cars, which is why he switched to public buses. But this time, the Reaper attacked a bus. Why?"

As he spoke, he pulled up a public transit map, muttering, "The attacked bus was on Route 7. Look here, Jack—this bus route has a stop right by George Foyer's apartment, the one we visited earlier."

"I remember now." Jack pulled out his notebook. Foyer had written down a list of aliases and addresses during their previous conversation.

"201 South Brooklyn Street, 1488 Edenhurst, and 1439 Yablov Street. These are all Foyer's addresses."

"We need to split up!" Hotchner grabbed his coat, ready to head out.

"Wait. Haven't any of you realized we've been led around by the nose this whole time?" Jack put down his phone and suddenly spoke up.

"What do you mean?" All eyes turned to Jack.

"CSI's Dr. Robbins just sent over the autopsy results. He believes that George Foyer's wounds from back then were likely self-inflicted." Jack displayed the email on his phone.

"What? That's impossible!" Everyone exclaimed, and Hotchner froze in his tracks.

"Could he be the 'Boston Reaper'? That would explain everything. As the only survivor, most of the information we have comes directly from him," Rossi muttered.

Emily looked stunned. "How could he have pulled that off? If the ambulance had been a bit later, he would've died."

"No, he could've done it," Reid said, lost in thought ever since Jack mentioned Foyer's self-harm.

"He killed Amanda Lambert first, drove a mile further, made the 911 call from a payphone, then drove back and inflicted those wounds on himself."

"What about the murder weapon? How did he get rid of it?" JJ asked.

"The crime scene was on a mountain road. He could've made the non-lethal cuts first. When he heard the ambulance, he could've stabbed himself with the fatal wound and tossed the weapon off the cliff before they arrived. The police at the time were focused on the victim and the car. No one would've thought to search the surrounding area," Jack explained.

Brutal, cunning, methodical, and willing to risk his own life—this opponent was shaping up to be one of the most dangerous the BAU had ever faced.

"Why would he do that?" Finlay was puzzled. "The police couldn't find him. Why risk his life to pose as a victim?"

"To take control," Hotchner sat back down in his chair.

"Because of that 911 call and the extent of his injuries, we never even considered suspecting him. So all the suspect profiles and information he provided were meant to mislead us."

He picked up the file. "Amanda Lambert was just 19, freshly arrived from Michigan to attend college in Boston. Remember the Reaper's demand? He asked Shonas to publish a statement in the Michigan Post. That can't be a coincidence."

Jack continued, "And he said Amanda was the love of his life, that he was planning to propose. But based on the information, Foyer was just Amanda's teaching assistant in an elective course that lasted only four weeks. 

Think about it. There's no way it was love at first sight. Foyer was 28 at the time, working as a TA for freshman classes, probably just using it as an opportunity to meet young women."

Rossi, holding Jack's notebook in one hand, quickly called Garcia on his phone. "Garcia?"

"Yes? What's up? I was just about to head to bed," came Garcia's yawning reply.

"Sorry about that. I need you to check some names in Boston's municipal records."

Rossi began reading out the string of aliases Foyer had given Jack. "Kevin Baskin, Miles Houlton, William Parker. Start with the Department of Education's records."

The sound of furious typing came from the other end of the line, followed by Garcia's surprised voice. 

"Wow, you guys found something big, didn't you? All these names are in the Department of Education's records. They were all substitute teachers for computer science."

"Oh, wait. I need to correct myself. William Parker was fired for inappropriate conduct with female students."

"We've been played," Rossi swore, uncharacteristically angry.

Finlay mused, "So he left his glasses at the previous crime scene on purpose, to draw our attention back to him. Why? To repeat his past trick?"

"That's likely," Hotchner replied, frustration written on his face.

"I knew I missed something. The Reaper kills to gain control over the police. Other than the young girls, the deaths of anyone else mean nothing to him."

Rossi added, "So he's made you his new Shonas. But clearly, you didn't follow his script. So he's decided to try something else—he's planning a massacre that we can't stop from hitting the news, to show the world how powerless we are.

He's been setting this up all along. The glasses, the numbers—they were all meant to lead us to him, so he could stage his death again and escape as a 'victim.'"

Hotchner stood up again and ordered, "Jack, arm everyone. You and JJ will be one team. Finlay and I will be another. The rest of you, take the third location. Let's hope we're not too late."

Jack nodded as everyone headed to the garage to gear up. Finlay was on the phone, coordinating backup with the night shift officers.

"Remember, turn off your sirens before we reach the locations. Don't enter until backup arrives."

Jack reminded them as he inserted two ceramic plates into the pouches of Finlay's soft body armor, then checked everyone else's vests. Only then did he wave them out.

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