Jack arrived back at the hotel shortly after eight-thirty to find Goren and Eames just finishing getting their things together for the move.

“When you said you’d come later, I thought you meant at least nine o’clock,” Goren said with a wry smile as Jack walked in. The Inspector returned Goren’s smile amusedly.

“You’re up, aren’t you?” he shot back. “Anyway, I have some interesting news for you. A couple of uniforms nabbed the lad that broke in here last night.”

The statement quite literally brought all activity in the room to a standstill as Goren, Eames and Deakins each ceased what they were doing to stare at Jack in astonishment. Eames recovered first from the surprise.

“Lad? You mean it was just a kid?”

“A student from the university, as a matter of fact,” Jack said. “Silly twit tried to break into a house on his way home. The owners weren’t home, but their Doberman was. Bailed him up against a wall, and wouldn’t let him move. He was still there when the owners got home two hours later. He was in rather a sorry state when the uniforms arrived, actually. Needed a change of underwear, if you get my meaning.”

Neither Goren nor Eames could contain their grins. Even Deakins chuckled softly.

“Kid’s lucky,” Eames retorted, forcing the smirk from her face. “If I hadn’t still been half asleep, he wouldn’t been carried out of here with a bullet in him.”

Jack raised an eyebrow amusedly. “So that’s what the fuss downstairs was all about. I couldn’t help overhearing the concierge ranting to the owner… Something about trigger-happy American coppers.”

“She shot the door,” Goren said simply, by way of explanation.

“I was aiming at him,” Eames growled, throwing her partner a dirty look. “I was off-balance. Anyway, at least I got a shot off. You were too busy sitting on your ass on the floor and feeling sorry for yourself to be bothered.”

“How is the leg, Bobby?” Jack asked quickly before Goren had a chance to reply to Eames’ deliberate barb.

“Okay, for now,” he answered, glaring at Eames. “Hopefully I can last out until the physio session this evening.”

Leaning over carefully, with a grip on the walking stick that was almost white-knuckled, he picked up one of his two bags and headed for the door.

“Let’s go. I want to talk to that kid.”

Adrian Bailey was a short, stocky boy of eighteen years, with an attitude to match his sour expression and sullen body language.

“He doesn’t look happy,” Eames commented dryly as they observed Bailey and his lawyer through the two-way mirror. George grunted.

“After being pinned to a wall for two hours by a near-rabid dog? I don’t doubt it. He wasn’t too happy about being dumped in a holding cell for the rest of the night, either.”

“Perhaps next time he’ll think twice about the cleverness of breaking into hotel rooms and houses,” Jack muttered. He looked around at his American colleagues. “How would you like to do this?”

Goren and Eames looked at each other thoughtfully before Goren spoke.

“The three of us will go in together. You start it off, Jack. We’ll play it from there.”

Jack hesitated, looking at Goren piercingly. Intuition told him Goren already had an idea of how he was going to ‘play’ the situation, but wasn’t letting on. A glance at the small, knowing smile on Eames’ face confirmed his suspicions. Finally, accepting he wasn’t going to be able to get anymore out of either of them, he decided to simply enjoy the ensuing entertainment and conceded with a nod.

“All right, then. Let’s have some fun, shall we?”

“Relax, Adrian,” lawyer Lowell Jermyn advised his client, not for the first time as Bailey started up out of his chair in growing agitation. “You’ll be out of here soon enough. The most they’ve got on you is breaking and entering, and since it’s your first offence, you’ll most likely get off with just a warning. Just shut your mouth and let me do the talking, all right?”

The door swung open and Jack walked in, followed by Goren and Eames who took up temporary residence by the wall.

“It’s about time, Inspector,” Jermyn said coolly. “It really was unacceptable to leave my client stewing for so long. And who are they?”

Jack didn’t so much as spare a glance back at Goren and Eames.

“Interested observers. I wouldn’t concern myself if I were you, Mr Jermyn.”

Jermyn frowned. “Fine. Now, if you’d like to provide my client with the mandatory warning, we’ll just call it a day, shall we?”

Jack laughed openly at that, and then he did look around at the two detectives.

“Did you hear that? He assaults two police officers, and he thinks he’s getting out of here with just a warning.”

The words had been very carefully chosen, and the effect was immediate. Already highly agitated, Bailey was out of his chair, howling protests.

“I didn’t assault anyone! Especially not two coppers!”

“Oh, really?” Jack growled. “Then perhaps you can enlighten us as to what it was, exactly, that you did do in that hotel room last night.”

“Be quiet, Adrian,” Jermyn ordered his client. “Inspector Frost, my client admits to breaking and entering into two premises, but you can’t pin on him an assault that never happened!”

“So what did happen, then, hmm? According to your client.”

“He has already explained. He did break into that hotel room. The occupants startled him, and he fled. If anything, you should be charging them. One of them shot a gun at my client.”

“Yes, I know,” Jack replied calmly.

“So I didn’t assault anyone,” Bailey said angrily. “You ought to be arresting whichever one it was that shot at me. Could’ve killed me, they could’ve!”

Jack focused a hard stare on the boy, which had him cringing back in his seat.

“You have no idea how lucky you are, Adrian. Now, before you dig yourself an even deeper hole, I’d like to introduce you to someone. This is Detective Robert Goren and Detective Alex Eames, of the New York City Police Department. Detective Goren is the individual you say you didn’t knock over, and Detective Eames is the one you say we should be arresting for trying to shoot you. Say hello to Detective Goren, Adrian.”

On the other side of the mirror, Deakins, George and Hazel all roared with laughter as five foot one inch Adrian Bailey found himself staring up at the six foot four inch detective that suddenly towered over the top of him. A second later, even Jack looked on incredulously as Goren suddenly bent over almost double, leaning nearly all his weight on the walking stick while pushing his face into Bailey’s. He bent over, placing himself squarely between Bailey and his lawyer, effectively blocking their view of each other.

“This is your first time in trouble, isn’t it, Adrian?”

“Inspector!” Jermyn burst out. “This man has no authority to question my client! Nothing Adrian tells him will admissible…”

Goren turned his head around to look at Jermyn briefly.

“Then you won’t mind me talking to him, will you?” He promptly returned his attention to Bailey, before Jermyn had a chance to reply. “You know you’re pretty lucky, Adrian? You see, my partner, Detective Eames… She’s usually a pretty good shot. She only missed you because you knocked her off-balance.” Goren straightened up, turned around and sat down on the table between Bailey and Jermyn. “Otherwise, she wouldn’t have missed.”

Bailey stared up at Goren, his eyes wide and his face pale.

“Wh… What’s your point?”

Goren leaned in slowly towards Bailey, favouring the young man with his best ‘why-don’t-you-just-confess-and-save-us-all-the-trouble’ look. In response, Bailey pushed his chair backwards a little across the floor in an unconscious effort to get away from Goren.

“What were you doing there, Adrian? Because something tells me you wouldn’t have been game enough to break in if you’d known there were a couple of cops in there.”

At that point, Eames began to move forward, across the floor. Bailey glanced at her nervously, then looked back at Goren.

“I was just looking for money… My… My habit… I needed money for dope…”

“Now, see, that’s funny,” Eames said crisply. “Because the only things that had been disturbed were our case notes.”

“You don’t have a habit,” Goren said dismissively. “You’re clean, tidy… Your eyes are clear and focused. You’ve never taken drugs before. So what were you looking for? Or didn’t he tell you?”

Bailey flinched just slightly.

“What d’you mean?”

“You tell us, Adrian. Who sent you to break into our room?”

Bailey had turned the colour of ash by then. Eames came to stand on the other side of the table, immediately opposite Bailey.

“We know you didn’t go there on your own volition, Adrian. Someone sent you to search for something. All you need to do to get yourself out of a whole lot of serious trouble is tell us…”

“Who, what and why,” Goren finished off smoothly. “And in case you don’t really understand the gravity of the situation you’re in…”

“Let us enlighten you,” Eames went on. “There’s a killer on the loose in Denton. You might have read about the victims in the newspapers…”

“Or heard about them on the television,” Goren said. “Now, the case notes you rifled last night were exclusively about that particular case. So, if you weren’t sent to break into our room by someone else, then that might lead us to think…”

“That you have something to hide, and you were specifically out to find out how much we know,” Eames concluded. She favoured Bailey with an almost seductive smile. “So which is it, Adrian? Were you sent to look for something by another person…?”

Goren leaned in close once more, his gaze penetrating Bailey right to his core.

“Or are you the one with a secret to protect?”

Bailey looked around at his lawyer for help, sweat streaking his face. It was of little help to him. The lawyer was staring from Goren to Eames, agape.

“All right,” Bailey whimpered. “Okay… It was my professor. He wanted me to find out whether you had anything on him.”

“Which professor?” Jack asked, finally coming forward. Bailey stared miserably at the table top.

“It was Professor Bohen.”

“Did he offer to pay you?” Eames asked.

“Nah. He said I could use the experience for my next report.”

“The experience of breaking into a property and assaulting people?” Jack asked in disgust. Bailey rubbed the sweat out of his eyes.

“I didn’t assault no one! It… It was an accident.”

“So was missing you with my gun,” Eames retorted. Bailey swallowed hard.

“I didn’t mean to hurt no one. ’Specially not coppers.” He looked up at Goren tremulously. “I’m sorry, all right?”

Goren shifted a little, then pushed away from the table. “Well, no harm, no foul. Tell us, did Professor Bohen tell you anything specific to look for?”

“No. Just to look for anything that had his name on it. I didn’t really get a chance to look at anything much, though.”

“All right,” Jermyn growled suddenly, as though he’d abruptly come back from the dead. “I think my client has been more than helpful. About this ridiculous assault accusation…”

“We could probably be persuaded not to press charges,” Eames said, “if your client makes a statement fully disclosing everything that Amon Bohen told him.”

“That’s blackmail!” Bailey protested sullenly. Jack smiled benevolently.

“Consider it more as being a step in the right direction, my lad.” He moved over to the door, holding it open for Goren and Eames to exit the room. “I’ll send an officer in so you can make that statement, all right?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like that before,” Jack said after he’d sent George and Hazel in to take Bailey’s statement.

“They’re something, aren’t they?” Deakins said with a grin.

“We need to bring Bohen in for questioning,” Goren said firmly, ignoring the compliment. “Now.”

“We’ll have a warrant within the hour,” Jack assured him. “There’s not a lot we can do in the meantime, so perhaps we can complete the move for you?”

Goren and Eames glanced at each other, and then nodded in unison.

“That’d be good,” Eames murmured appreciatively. “Thanks.”

“I have to say,” Jack mused as he showed them into his home a short while later, “that I don’t think I’ve ever seen a lawyer lost for words like that before. Do you manage to achieve that effect often?”

“Are you kidding?” Eames asked with a laugh. “The lawyers back home have all learnt not to bother even trying to argue with Bobby. It just isn’t worth the headache.”

“And it’s been even more pronounced over the last few months,” Deakins added. “You saw them go at Bailey, Jack, and he was minor league.”

Jack chuckled. “I imagine it would be quite a sight to watch them taking on someone more… what’s the phrase? Major league.”

“You might just have that chance,” Deakins said. “That is, if they have the opportunity to question Bohen.”

“Oh, I think that can be arranged,” Jack said, smiling at the thought.

“Don’t you just love how they talk about us like we’re not even here?” Eames commented to Goren, who nodded in amused agreement.

“Oh, right, sorry,” Jack said quickly. “Now, Bobby, you’re welcome to the bedroom just through there. Alex, there’s a room just at the top of the stairs on the left.”

Minutes later, they stood back in the foyer after depositing bags.

“I think we have some time before we need to be back at CID. How about coffee?”

Three faces positively lit up at the offer. With a chuckle, Jack ushered them through to the living room.

“I have to admit,” Jack said as they settled down with hot mugs of freshly brewed coffee, “we were getting nowhere fast until you folks arrived. Now, we actually have a suspect. It’s certainly an improvement.”

“Hopefully we’ll have more luck here in that department than we had back home,” Goren said ruefully. “Alex and I never even suspected Erik Mathers. Not as a viable suspect, anyway.”

Jack looked across at Deakins.

“You said you had outside help in identifying Erik Mathers.”

Deakins nodded.

“Yes. The head of our Crime Scene Unit contacted his counterpart in Miami because our victims matched up to victims that turned up that way eighteen months previous. A team from Miami came up and joined us, putting the information they had together with what we had. They had an ID, which actually turned out to be false… Mathers used the name Lucas Graham while he was operating in Miami… but it led us to a property owned under that name. Some locals made the connection for us. Up until that point, all we knew about Mathers was that he was the brother of the man who was a suspect until he was murdered as well. All in all, it was a whole series of lucky connections that led us to Mathers’ cabin at the top of Gore Mountain.”

“Lucky for us, that is,” Eames retorted. Goren sat forward just a little, his interest piqued.

“Did you say Lucas Graham?”

“What are you thinking?” Deakins asked, recognising the sudden gleam in Goren’s eyes. Jack quickly caught on to what he was thinking, though.

“The Dean of Denton University is one David Graham.”

Goren nodded. “It could just be a coincidence, but it could also be that Mathers chose that name as an alias for a reason.”

“It might help to know how far back ownership of that house in the Adirondacks goes,” Deakins mused. “Mathers may have gotten the idea of using that name when he was over here.”

“But then that would also suggest that he’d had contact with the Dean,” Eames pointed out. “Do we know whether Graham was the Dean eight years ago? Or if he was even at the university at all?”

“I don’t think he was Dean then,” Jack said, “but he was definitely lecturing there. You know, it could have been a suggestion planted by Bohen. We won’t really have a better idea, though, until we get the rest of that information on Mr Mathers.”

Deakins nodded, taking the hint.

“I’ll put a call through to the office back home as soon as we get back to CID.”

“And in the meantime,” Jack said with a faint smile, “we’ll have Professor Bohen to keep us occupied.”

They arrived back to find Bohen waiting somewhat impatiently in the interview room, minus a lawyer.

“Where’s his brief, George?” Jack asked.

“Said he didn’t want one. Said he didn’t have anything to hide.”

Jack gave a short bark of laughter.

“Well, we’ll just see, won’t we?”

Bohen looked up, and a tight smile crossed his lips.

“Inspector Frost. Detectives… Goren and Eames, wasn’t it? I wasn’t expecting the pleasure of your company against quite so soon. Let me guess… I suppose this is again to do with Erik Mathers?”

“You guessed right,” Jack confirmed. “We have a few more questions for you, Professor.”

Bohen nodded amiably, settling back a little in the seat. “Of course. But I’d like to point out that you really didn’t need to get a warrant to bring me down here. I would have come quite willingly had you asked.”

“That’s very cooperative of you,” Jack said emotionlessly.

Bohen smiled.

“Just before you start the… interrogation, there are a couple of things I wanted to say. You see, you rather caught me on the hop yesterday, and I hadn’t had the chance to think back on it all clearly. The truth is, I had a little more to do with Erik than I originally claimed. I introduced him to the Archery Club when he expressed interest in the sport. If I remember rightly, he turned out to be something of a natural… particularly when it came to using the crossbow.”

Goren and Eames shared grim looks. Bohen caught the shared look, and smiled sympathetically.

“My apologies, Detectives. I suppose you’ve already experienced the lad’s skill with a crossbow personally, haven’t you?”

“After introducing him to the club,” Eames said without missing a beat, “did you spend anymore time with him?”

Bohen shrugged.

“I saw him here and there, usually only in passing. Look, I am sorry that I didn’t inform you yesterday about introducing Erik to the club, but that is honestly as far as it went. I saw him now and then outside the classroom and our private tutorials, and that was it.”

“Did you ever see Mathers at the club with anyone else?” Jack asked.

“There was one person that I saw him with at the club on a regular basis,” Bohen admitted. “I believe it may have been one of the instructors, though I’m sure I’d seen this fellow at the university as well. It was eight years ago, and I’m afraid I just don’t remember. Look, I’m fully aware that I’m a suspect, and right now I suppose I probably seem like a very feasible option. I do hope, though, that you’re all smart enough to realise sooner, rather than later, that I am not the individual that you’re looking for. I told you before, I do not condone anything that Erik did…”

“We know,” Eames interrupted, sounding bored. “You abhor violence. Professor, do you have any idea just how many times we hear lines like that? And ninety percent of the time, it’s the killer throwing it out.”

Bohen flashed her his most charming smile.

“Dear Detective Eames, I hope you won’t take too long to realise that I belong in the ten percent minority.”

Eames turned away, throwing a disgusted look at Goren who smiled a little in amusement, then opened his folder and pushed some photos across the table to Bohen.

“Perhaps you can help us in another way, Professor.”

“What way would that be?” Bohen asked, eyeing the photos suspiciously.

“Helping us to profile the killer. These are some of the photos taken of the Denton victims. If you could just take a look… tell us what you think.”

Sparing Goren a mildly agitated glance, Bohen picked up the photos and began to look through them slowly, cringing noticeably as he came across some of the more graphic images. Finally, he laid the photos face-down on the table.

“I’m sorry, Detective Goren. I really don’t know what to say. The man who committed these acts… He really is a true sadist.” Bohen paused, looking intently up at Goren. “But again, I suspect you already knew that thanks to your own experiences with Erik. Tell me, Detective, what was it really like?”

A hint of a frown flickered across Goren’s face.

“What was what like?”

“Being up on that mountain, knowing someone was chasing you… hunting you down like an animal. What was it like, knowing you were facing a horrendous death?”

Though Goren didn’t so much as flinch at that brutally blunt question, the look in his eyes spoke in volumes.

“All right,” Jack growled. “Let’s stick to the matter at hand, shall we?”

“My apologies,” Bohen said, sounding less than apologetic. “That was a rather tactless question, wasn’t it? Please forgive me, I just can’t help my curiosity.

“It was terrifying,” Goren said abruptly, drawing startled looks from both Jack and Eames. “How frequently did you see Erik at the Archery Club?”

“I frequented the establishment two to four times a month, and he was always there when I visited. An almost paralysing fear, was it?”

“Yes. Did you ever socialise with him when you saw him at the club?”

“No. I’ve no doubt he had his own friends there to… socialise with. I’m told he tended to the visit the club up to two or three times a week. Did Erik take any measures to ensure he had the advantage? Or did he provide an equal playing field?”

“He gave himself as much of an advantage as possible. Who told you he visited the club that often?”

“One of the other students in my class mentioned, I think. And no, I don’t recall who it was. What sort of an advantage?”

“He starved us for two days, then released us in the middle of a remote mountain range without jackets or shoes.”

Bohen leant forward a little, across the table.

“Were you afraid you were going to die, Detective Goren?”

Goren stared back at Bohen, one fist pressed against his lips, his eyes half-closed. To Eames, it was starting to look frighteningly familiar to another interrogation that now seemed a lifetime ago, with a young, blond Australian woman called Nicole Wallace.

“Yes. Yes, I was.”

Bohen sat back, a small, satisfied smile on his lips.

“I’m sorry you had to experience that sort of terror, Detective. If I’d had any idea, I would never have taken an interest in the boy, and I would have strongly recommended he be removed from my class. I sincerely hope you catch the one responsible for the deaths of those poor people here in Denton.”

“Just one last thing, Professor,” Goren said. “Do you recall whether Dean Graham ever had any contact with Erik?”

“David? Well, I didn’t really know him back then, but I suppose he could have. I do know that David belonged to the Archery Club as well, though I never actually saw him there myself. He taught Economics, you see. Our paths never really crossed.”

Goren pushed back from the table, getting awkwardly to his feet.

“Thankyou, Professor. We’ll probably be wanting to talk to you again.”

Bohen smiled. “I’ll be looking forward to that, Detective Goren. This has been… most enlightening.” He looked across at Jack. “Am I free to go, Inspector Frost? Or do you have anything more you’d like to grill me on?”

Jack was starting to look quite sour by then.

“No, I think that covers it, Professor. We will, however, be taking some DNA samples before you go… if you have no objections?”

“None at all. I have nothing to hide.”

“Wonderful, very sporting of you,” Jack said with just a hint of sarcasm to his voice. “Just do yourself… and us… a favour, and don’t take any spur of the moment trips.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Bohen retorted.

“Are you okay?” Eames asked Goren once they were back in the relative privacy of the task room.

“He’s not the killer,” Goren said flatly, ignoring his partner’s concerned question. “There was no reaction when I showed him those photos…”

“No reaction?” Deakins echoed. “He was nearly sick.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Goren said as he sat down gingerly in the nearest chair. “The photos I showed him weren’t of the Denton victims. They were photos of Erik Mathers’ New York victims. Our killer is sadistic, like Bohen said, but he’s also got a very big ego. If Bohen had been the killer, or been directly involved with the killings, he would have known the photos weren’t related to the Denton killings. He would have reacted in some way.”

“Or maybe he’s just a damned good actor,” Eames retorted. “You haven’t answered my question, Bobby. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he murmured, though he did not look her in the eye as he spoke.

“What was all that about in there?” Jack asked.

“Tit for tat,” Goren explained, “a question for a question, and an answer for an answer. By answering his questions, he was obliged to answer mine. He was right, the person we’re looking for is a sadist, and Bohen is no sadist. He’d take delight in influencing someone else into doing evil things… to study the psychological effects… but he’s not capable of committing those acts himself. He… He just doesn’t have the stomach for it. You said it yourself, Captain, the photos made him physically sick. He’s just suffering from an overly large dose of curiosity. He’s not the one we’re looking for.”

“So we’re back at square one again,” Jack said, sounding as frustrated as he looked.

“Not exactly,” Deakins said, drawing three questioning looks. He held an unsealed envelope out to Jack.

“The rest of the information on Mathers arrived while you three were talking to Amon Bohen. One of the most interesting bits is regarding the house at the bottom of Gore Mountain.”

“The one you went to first?” Eames asked. Deakins nodded.

“Yes. We tracked it down because it was registered under the name of Lucas Graham, which is the alias Mathers used while he operated in Miami. That house was purchased forty-six years ago by one Lucas David Graham.”

“Lucas David Graham?” Jack echoed, stunned. Deakins nodded.

“That’s right. Lucas Graham migrated with his only son to the United States from Britain in 1968, when his son was ten years old. We also got a copy of Erik Mathers’ birth certificate. He was born Erik Lucas Graham. His name was changed to Mathers by his mother, after she divorced her husband, and he returned to Britain. Erik Mathers’ grandfather’s name was Lucas Graham, and his father is David Graham.”

“David Graham, Dean of Denton University?” Eames asked in astonishment. Deakins nodded.

“The same. It might be prudent to bring Professor Graham in for a chat, don’t you think?”

Jack looked over at Goren and Eames, a fresh gleam in his eyes.

“I think that sounds like a damned good idea.”

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