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dailyunsolvedmysteries · 3 years

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Lawrence Bittaker and Roy Norris

Bittaker and Norris killed their first victim, 16-year-old Lucinda Lynn Schaefer, on June 24, 1979. At approximately 7:46 p.m., Norris spotted Schaefer walking down a side street and remarked to Bittaker, "There's a cute little blonde." After unsuccessfully attempting to entice Schaefer into their van with alternative offers of marijuana and a lift home, Bittaker and Norris drove further ahead and parked alongside a driveway. Norris then exited the vehicle, opened the passenger-side sliding door, and leaned into the van, with his head and shoulders obscured from view behind the door. When Schaefer passed the van, Norris exchanged a few words with her before dragging her into the van and closing the door. Using a ruse they would repeat in most of their subsequent murders, Bittaker turned the radio to full volume as Norris bound the victim's arms and legs and gagged her with duct tape as Bittaker drove Schaefer to the fire road in the San Gabriel Mountains where, in April, the pair had previously switched the locks.

At the fire road, Norris first raped Schaefer after instructing Bittaker to "go take a walk" and return in one hour. Upon returning to the van, Bittaker similarly raped the girl in Norris's absence. Upon the second occasion in which she was raped by Norris in Bittaker's absence, Schaefer asked him whether they intended to kill her, to which Norris replied, "No." In response, Schaefer requested to be allowed time to pray before she was killed if that was Bittaker and Norris's intention.

Schaefer pleaded for "only a second, to pray," before Norris attempted to manually strangle her. After approximately 45 seconds, he became disturbed at "the look in her eyes" and ran to the front of the van, vomiting. Bittaker then manually strangled Schaefer until she collapsed to the ground and began convulsing. He then twisted a wire coat hanger around her neck with vise-grip pliers until Schaefer's convulsions ceased. Schaefer was denied her requests to pray before Bittaker and Norris killed her. Schaefer's body was wrapped in a plastic shower curtain and thrown over a steep canyon Bittaker had selected.

On July 8, 1979, two weeks after the murder of Schaefer, Bittaker and Norris encountered 18-year-old Andrea Joy Hall hitchhiking along the Pacific Coast Highway. As the pair slowed the van to offer Hall a lift, another vehicle pulled over and offered Hall exactly that, which she accepted. Bittaker and Norris followed the vehicle from a distance until Hall exited the vehicle in Redondo Beach. On this occasion, Norris hid in the back of the van in order to dupe Hall into believing Bittaker was traveling alone. Inside the van, Bittaker offered Hall a cold drink from the cooler located in the rear of the van. Norris—who had hidden behind a bedspread in the rear of the van—pounced on Hall when she attempted to retrieve the drink and, after a strenuous fight, managed to subdue her by twisting her arm behind her back, causing her to scream in pain. Norris then gagged Hall with adhesive tape and bound her wrists and ankles.

Bittaker and Norris drove Hall to a location in the San Gabriel Mountains beyond where they had earlier taken Schaefer. At this location, she was raped twice by Bittaker and once by Norris. While Bittaker was raping Hall for the second time, Norris saw what he believed to be vehicle headlights approaching. Bittaker clasped his hand over Hall's mouth and dragged her into nearby bushes as Norris drove in an unsuccessful search for the vehicle he thought he had seen. When he returned, the pair drove to a location farther in the San Gabriel Mountains. Bittaker forced Hall to walk uphill naked alongside the road and to then perform oral sex on him, before ordering Hall to pose for several Polaroid pictures.

Bittaker and Norris drove Hall to a third location, where Bittaker again walked Hall up a nearby hill, this time as Norris drove to a nearby store to purchase alcohol. When Norris returned, Bittaker was alone and in possession of two further Polaroid pictures he had taken, both of which depicted Hall's face in expressions Norris later described as being of "sheer terror" as she begged for her life to be spared. Bittaker informed Norris that he had told Hall he was going to kill her and challenged her to give him as many reasons as she could come up with as to why she should be allowed to live, before thrusting an ice pick through her ear into her brain. He then turned her body over and thrust the ice pick into her other ear, stomping on it until the handle broke. Bittaker then strangled Hall before throwing her body off a cliff.

On September 3, Bittaker and Norris observed two girls named Jackie Doris Gilliam and Jacqueline Leah Lamp sitting on a bus stop bench located close to Hermosa Beach. Lamp and Gilliam had been hitchhiking along the Pacific Coast Highway before Bittaker and Norris observed them as they were resting at the bus stop. Bittaker and Norris offered the girls a ride, which Gilliam and Lamp accepted. Inside the van, both girls were offered marijuana by Norris, which they accepted. Shortly after entering the van, both girls realized that Bittaker had steered the van off the Pacific Coast Highway and was driving in the direction of the San Gabriel Mountains. When the girls protested, both Bittaker and Norris attempted to allay the girls' concerns with excuses, which did not deceive either girl. Lamp, aged 13, attempted to open the sliding door, whereupon Norris hit her on the back of the head with a bag filled with lead weights, briefly knocking her unconscious, before overpowering 15-year-old Gilliam. As he began to bind and gag Gilliam, Lamp regained consciousness and again attempted to flee the van, whereupon Norris twisted her arm behind her back and dragged her back into the van. As this struggle ensued, Bittaker—noting the girls' struggle was in full view of potential witnesses—stopped the van, punched Gilliam in the face, and assisted Norris in finishing binding and gagging the two girls.

Gilliam and Lamp were driven to the San Gabriel Mountains, where they were held captive for almost two days, being bound and gagged between repeated instances of sexual and physical abuse. Both men slept in the van alongside their two hostages, with each alternatively acting as a lookout. On one occasion, Bittaker walked Lamp onto a nearby hill and forced her to pose for pornographic pictures before returning her to the van. Bittaker also asked Norris to take several Polaroid pictures of himself and Gilliam, both nude and clothed. In the first of three instances in which Bittaker raped Gilliam, he also created a tape recording of himself raping her, forcing the girl to pretend she was his cousin and informing Gilliam to feel free to express her pain. Bittaker is also known to have tortured Gilliam by stabbing her breasts with an ice pick and using vise grip pliers to tear off part of one nipple. After almost two days of captivity, Lamp and Gilliam were murdered. The bodies of Gilliam and Lamp were thrown over an embankment into the chaparral.

Bittaker and Norris abducted their final victim, 16-year-old Shirley Lynette Ledford, on October 31, 1979. Ledford was abducted as she stood outside a gas station, hitchhiking home from a Halloween party in the Sunland-Tujunga suburb of Los Angeles. Upon accepting the offer of a lift home and entering the van, Ledford was offered marijuana by Norris, which she refused. Bittaker drove the van to a secluded street, where Norris drew a knife, then bound and gagged Ledford with construction tape.

Bittaker then traded places with Norris, who drove in an aimless manner for in excess of an hour as Bittaker remained with Ledford in the back of the van. After removing the construction tape from the girl's mouth and legs, Bittaker tormented Ledford: initially slapping and mocking her, then beating her with his fists as he repeatedly shouted for her to "say something", then, as Ledford began screaming, shouting for her to "scream louder". As Ledford continued screaming, Bittaker began asking her as he struck her: "What's the matter? Don't you like to scream?"

As Ledford began to cry, she pleaded with Bittaker, repeatedly saying, "No, don't touch me." In response, Bittaker again ordered her to scream as loud as she wished, then began alternately striking her with a hammer, beating her breasts with his fists and torturing her with pliers both between and throughout instances when he raped and sodomized her.

Shortly after Norris switched places with Bittaker, he himself switched on the tape recorder that Bittaker had used to record much of the time he had been in the rear of the van with Ledford. Norris first shouted for Ledford to: "Go ahead and scream or I'll make you scream." In response, Ledford pleaded, "I'll scream if you stop hitting me," then emitted several high-pitched screams as Norris encouraged her to continue until he ordered her to stop.

Norris then reached for the sledgehammer as Ledford—seeing him do this—screamed, "Oh no!" Norris then struck Ledford once upon the left elbow. In response, she informed Norris he had broken her elbow, before pleading, "Don't hit me again. In response, Norris again raised the sledgehammer as Ledford repeatedly screamed, "No!" Norris then proceeded to strike Ledford 25 consecutive times upon the same elbow with the sledgehammer, before asking her, "What are you snivelling about?" as Ledford continuously screamed and wept.

After approximately two hours of captivity, Norris killed Ledford by strangling her with a wire coat hanger, which he tightened with pliers. Ledford did not react much to the act of strangulation, although she died with her eyes open. Bittaker then opted to discard her body on a random lawn in order to view the reaction from the press. The pair drove to a randomly selected house in Sunland where Norris discarded Ledford's body in a bed of ivy upon the front lawn.

Ledford's body was found by a jogger the following morning. An autopsy revealed that, in addition to having been sexually violated, she had died of strangulation after receiving extensive blunt-force trauma to the face, head, breasts, and left elbow, with her olecranon sustaining multiple fractures. Her genitalia and rectum had been torn, caused in part by Bittaker having inserted pliers inside her body. In addition, her left hand bore a puncture wound and a finger on her right hand had been slashed.

In November 1979, Norris became reacquainted with a friend named Joseph Jackson, an individual with whom he had previously been incarcerated at the California Men's Colony. Norris confided in Jackson regarding his and Bittaker's exploits over the previous five months, including graphic details of the murder of Shirley Ledford (the only victim whose body had been found at this time). Norris also divulged to Jackson that, in addition to the five murders he and Bittaker had committed, there had been three additional incidents in which he and Bittaker had abducted or attempted to abduct young women who had either escaped their attackers or, in one instance, had actually been raped, but released.

Upon hearing Norris's confessions, Jackson consulted his attorney, who advised him to inform authorities. Jackson agreed, and he and his attorney informed the Los Angeles Police Department, who in turn relayed the two men to the Hermosa Beach police.

A search of Bittaker's apartment revealed several Polaroid photographs which were determined as depicting Hall and Gilliam—both of whom had been reported as missing earlier the same year. Inside Bittaker's van, investigators discovered a sledgehammer, a plastic bag filled with lead weights, a book detailing how to locate police radio frequencies, a jar of Vaseline, two necklaces (later confirmed as belonging to two of the victims), and a tape recording of a young woman in obvious distress, screaming and pleading for mercy while being tortured and sexually abused.

On May 7, 1980, Norris was sentenced to 45 years to life imprisonment, with eligibility for parole from 2010. On March 24, in accordance with the jury verdict, Bittaker was formally sentenced to death. Bittaker died while incarcerated on death row at San Quentin State Prison on December 13, 2019, at the age of 79. Norris was incarcerated at the Richard J. Donovan Correctional Facility. He died of natural causes at the California Medical Facility on February 24, 2020, at the age of 72.

#Lawrence Bittaker #roy norris #serial killers #true crime #post

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briery · 2 years

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TIL A tape created by the Tool Box Killers, Lawrence Bittaker and Roy Norris, detailing the torture of their final victim, Shirley Lynette Ledford, is used to desensitise FBI agents to violence. The chief investigator of the case later committed suicide and cited the murderers as his main reason.

#tape #tapes #torture #murder #death #tool box killers #lawrence bittaker #roy norris #shirley lynette ledford #desensitise #fbi #violence #link #links #reddit #suicide #serial killers #crime #true crime

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hillside-dangler · 2 years

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Killerfornia

Devils on the loose in the city of angels

#true crime #serial killers #criminal investigations #crime after crime #richard rameriz #Lawrence Bittaker #Zodiac Killer #Golden State Killer #California

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truecrimeguru · 4 years

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#lawrence bittaker #toolbox killer #pliers #murder mack

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the-little-crime-writer · 5 years

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Bittaker, Lawrence Sigmund, and Norris, Roy Lewis

Lawrence Bittaker was serving time for assault with a deadly weapon in 1978, when he met Roy Norris at the California Men’s Colony in San Luis Obispo. A convicted rapist, Norris recognized a soul mate in Bittaker, and they soon became inseparable. While still confined, they hatched a grisly plot to kidnap, rape and murder teenage girls “for fun,” as soon as they were freed. If all went well, they planned to kill at least one girl from each “teen” age, 13 through 19 while recording the events on tape and film. Paroled in November 15, 1978, Bittaker began making preparations for the crime spree, obtaining a van that dubbed “Murder Mack.” Norris was released June 15, 1979 after a period of observation at Atascadero State Hospital, and he hurried to Bittaker’s side, anxious to implement their plan.

Nine days later, on June 24, 16 year old Linda Schaeffer vanished following a church service, never to be seen again. Joy Hall, 18, disappeared without a trace in Redondo Beach on July 8. Two months later, on September 2, 13 year old Jacqueline Lamp and 15 year old Jackie Gilliam were lost while thumbing rides in Redondo Beach. Shirley Ledford, 16, of Sunland, was the only victim recovered by authorities, abducted on October 31 and found the next morning in a Tijunga residential neighbourhood. Strangled with a wire coat hanger, she had first been subjected to “sadistic and barbaric abuse,” her breasts and face mutilated, arms slashed, her body covered with bruises. Detectives got their break on November 20, when Bittaker and Norris were on charges stemming from a September 30 assault in Hermosa Beach. According to reports, their female victim had been sprayed with mace, abducted in a silver van, and raped before she managed to escape. The woman ultimately failed to make a positive ID on Bittaker and Norris, but arresting officers discovered drugs on their possession, holding both in jail for violation of parole.

Roy Norris started showing signs of strain in custody. At a preliminary hearing in Hermosa Beach, he offered an apology “for my insanity,” and he was soon regaling officers with tales of murder. According to his statements, girls had been approached at random, photographed by Bittaker, and offered rides, free marijuana, jobs in modeling. Most turned the offers down, but other’s were abducted forcibly, the van’s radio’ drowning out their screams as they were driven to a remote mountain fire road for sessions of rape and torture. Tape recordings of JacqueLine Lamp’s final moments were recovered from Bittaker’s van, and detectives counted 500 photos of smiling young women among the suspects’ effects. On February 9, 1980, Norris led deputies to shallow graves in San Dimas Canyon and the San Gabriel Mountains, where skeletal remains of Lamp and Jackie Gilliam were recovered. An ice pick still protruded from Gilliam’s skull, and the remains bore of other marks of cruel mistreatment.

Charging the prisoners with five counts of murder, Los Angeles County Sheriff Peter Pitchess announced that Bittaker and Norris might be linked to the disappearance of 30 or 40 more victims. by february 20, the sack of confiscated photographs had yielded 19 missing girls, but non were ever traced, and Norris had apparently exhausted the desire to talk. On March 18, Norris pled guilty on five counts of murder, turning state’s evidence against his confederate. In return for his cooperation, he received a sentence of 45 years to life, with parole possible in the year 2010. Bittaker, meanwhile nicknamed “Pliers,” for his favourite instrument of torture denied everything. At his trial, on February 5, 1981, he testified that Roy Norris first informed him of the murders after their arrest in 1979. A jury chose not to believe him, returning a guilty verdict on February 17. On March 24, in accordance with the jury’s recommendation, Bittaker was sentenced to die. The judge also imposed an alternate sentence of 199 years and four months in prison, to take effect in the event that Bittaker’s death sentence is ever commuted on appeal.

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lucyfurwritesserialkillers-blog · 6 years

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Lawrence Bittaker (Signed Asprin Tabs)

Lawrence Sigmund Bittaker (born September 27, 1940) and Roy Lewis Norris (born February 5, 1948), also known as the Tool Box Killers, are American serial killers and rapistswho kidnapped, raped, tortured, and killed five teenage girls in Southern California over a period of five months in 1979.

Bought this item off of Supernaught.com

#lawrence bittaker #bittaker #toolbox murders #murderbilla #serial killer #rapist #california #prison

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macabretranquility · 7 years

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Lawrence Bittaker and Roy Norris, also known as “The Toolbox Killers” were a duo who spent 5 months of 1979 raping, torturing and murdering teenage girls on a horrific spree in California. The two met whilst incarcerated in the California Men’s Colony prison and developed a friendship over their shared fantasies of raping and murdering teenage girls. Specifically, one girl for each teenage year from 13-19. After being released from prison, the two rekindled their friendship in 1979, as well as their murderous plans and began their spree in June of that year. From June through to October, 1979, the pair murdered 5 girls ranging from the ages of 13-18. It was their method in killing which gained them the nickname The Toolbox Killers, due to them usually killing their victims with items found at hardware stores. The men would abduct victims in their van and take them to a secluded area in the San Gabriel Mountains where they would spend hours, or even days raping and torturing their victims. Eventually they would kill the girls, usually by driving an ice pick into their brains through their ears or by strangling them with a wire coat hanger, and would dispose of their bodies by throwing them over a cliff. In 1980 the pair were officially charged with the murder of the 5 girls. Norris was offered a plea bargain in which he agreed to testify against Bittaker, his acceptance of the bargain got him 45 years to life in prison. Where as Bittaker was sentenced to death for the crimes. Both are still currently serving out their sentences.

Top image L-R: Lawrence Bittaker and Roy Norris. Bottom image L-R: The killer’s victims, Jackie Gilliam (15), Lucinda Schaefer (16), Shirley Ledford (16), Andrea Hall (18) and Leah Lamp (13)

#lawrence bittaker #roy norris #toolbox killers #true crime #true crime community #tcc #tcoriginal #tc original #homicide #murder #serial killer #spree killers

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gotkillerquotes · 7 years

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'Have you seen any violence in the prison?' 'I saw a prisoner get killed by a guard, shot in the head for punching some guy. The guard fired two warning shots and then shot him in the back of the head accidentally. The guard claims he was trying to shoot him in the leg.'

Lawrence “Pliers” Bittaker

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deathrowrorry · 3 years

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I decided to post more letters from Richard Ramirez to his penpals + a kite message to Lawrence Bittaker in prison. Supernaught is a great source to find letters from serial killers. Through the letters, I feel that you learn more about them or more about the kind of person they want you to believe they are.

Also, I have a rather personal post coming up, please check it out when I post it, it’s about how I heard of the nightstalker

#richard ramirez #nightstalker #serial killers #serial killer #the night stalker #tcc #deathrow #criminals #true crime community #killer #murderer #true crime #tcc thoughts #tcc blog

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spencersawkward · 3 years

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switchblade faith // spencer reid - chapter 3

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.

word count: 4k

content warnings: mention of rape and victim-blaming (talking about Clea's previous job in sex crimes— not her personal experience).

masterlist

this chapter is drawn from the season 1 episode 17 episode "A Real Rain," which is supposed to be in New York, but I didn't wanna write about New York so I changed it to Boston.

I drop a second sugar packet into my coffee before taking a tentative sip. my face twists in discomfort. previous to working here, I would bring my own thermos from home and it would last me all day, but I've had to up my caffeine intake to two or three cups.

"you get used to it." JJ walks over to me, steeping her tea. despite the fact that it's early, she's perfectly put together. her hair is tied up and her eyes are sparkling.

"how?" I laugh. she points to the coffee pot, which is fresh and yet somehow tastes slightly stale.

"when you've been up for twenty four hours, you won't care how it tastes."

I avert my widened eyes at this.

"you could do what Spence does and just add a bunch of sugars." she tilts her head towards Reid, who is rocking back in forth in his spinny chair with a huge volume open in front of him. he doesn't even notice us staring at him.

"ew, what?" I giggle. JJ nods.

"hey, Spence!" she calls across the office. his head pops up to frown at us.

"yes?"

"how many sugars do you use?"

"five. occasionally six." he says this without a hint of the shame it deserves. my eyebrows shoot up and I take another sip of the bitter drink, trying to ignore the taste. it coats my tongue.

"see?" she smirks. "just so you know, we have another case. meeting in five." she sashays away to the conference room, leaving me standing there with an overwhelming urge to sweeten my drink. I keep it at three and add a splash of creamer to drown out the bitterness, then walk briskly to my desk to grab a few of my things.

"we have a meeting, Reid." I say across the divider between our spaces. he holds up an index finger, slams the book shut, and grabs his things. I wait for him to get collected before we head up.

"what were you reading?" I ask, peeking at his workspace. books are lined up against the divider, loose papers scatter the surface, and there are three uncapped pens littered about. his disorganization surprises me.

"War and Peace." he replies, checking his watch.

it's not even nine am.

...

I'm staring out the window of the jet while Morgan and Prentiss battle out yet another card game with Reid. there's not much to see until we slice through clouds and fly over Boston, which is glittering in the early light. I sigh and turn back to my book, tucking my legs up beneath me.

"this is not how I planned to visit." Morgan notes, looks through his cards.

"I'm looking forward to seeing Boston." Spencer smiles softly. at this, all of us look up.

"you've never been?" Morgan asks doubtfully. Emily snorts.

"we've never had an unsub there." Reid doesn't seem to think this strange at all. Morgan and I share a glance before he speaks.

"Reid, it's an hour-and-a-half flight."

"I'll show you around if we have some time." Emily smiles reassuringly at the boy genius.

"it's an easy trip, man." Derek chuckles. Spencer isn't bothered by our teasing. instead, he draws another card from the deck and focuses on his game.

"I've never been either." I state. the team turns to me with surprised expressions, causing my cheeks to flush.

"you, too?" Morgan makes a face like I've disappointed him.

"I've been meaning to go." I shrug. "there's an exhibition at the Museum of Fine Arts that I wanna see."

"what exhibition?" Spencer doesn't look up from his hand.

"uh, Titus Kaphar." I haven't had the opportunity to travel much, so a lot of the art I've seen has been from a computer screen or in class in college. it would be nice to actually get some experience seeing things face-to-face.

"Shifting the Gaze!" Spencer's face snaps up to beam at me, referencing the piece so vehemently that it makes me laugh.

"yeah, exactly."

"I went to his talk a couple years back."

"no way. really?" I shut my book and lean forward while he nods. Prentiss and Morgan are watching our conversation like a tennis match. while Reid rambles about all the things he heard at the lecture, I listen intently. it's good, because I don't really feel like talking right now; my head is pounding all over again, and this is distracting.

"do you ever go to the art museums in DC, then?" I ask once he's finished. Reid gets this crooked smile on his face like he wants to say a bunch of things, but is holding his tongue. his face is animated when he tells me about the other exhibits he's seen at the Smithsonian and apparently abandons his cards. Prentiss and Morgan have lost interest in our conversation; they start their own game and let us talk for the rest of the flight.

when we touch down, I immediately feel overwhelmed by the crush of people around us. our first crime scene is a taxi cab in Hyde Park, where the driver has been blindfolded, shot in the chest, and stabbed right through his ear. the blade, broken off from the handle, is lodged in his brain.

despite the fact that his kills are violent and seemingly random, the unsub definitely isn't disorganized. he carries his MO out the same way each time, which makes all of us question if we've missed a connection between victims.

"it's possible he's a sort of serial killer groupie." Spencer notes as he examines the inside of the cab, which is splattered with a mix of rainwater from the night before and blood. I shift where I'm standing to try to follow his line of sight.

"what do you mean?"

"Lawrence Bittaker and Roy Norris drove ice picks into their victims' heads and broke off the handle." he explains.

"well, if he's doing that, then he's presenting a mixed profile." I frown.

"exactly."

"mixed profile?" the police officer next to me asks.

"yeah. the fact that this guy is shooting his victims first suggests that he needs a quick and effective means of controlling the situation, which means that he probably doesn't think he can overpower them." I say.

"he could have a physical problem-- or maybe he's just not confident because he's small." Reid is still examining the taxi for any further evidence, but it seems sort of pointless.

"plus, he's organized and hunts at night. that tells us he most likely has a steady job."

"so," the cop stares between us with a perplexed expression. "we're looking for a small, angry white guy with a day job?"

the sarcasm in his voice makes me smile a little.

"I know it doesn't narrow down a lot right now, but we know that this guy isn't blitz attacking his victims. it's more of an execution."

the officer nods at this and my phone buzzes in my pocket. I turn to Reid.

"we gotta go."

Spencer nods curtly, straightens, and starts to immediately walk back to the car. I shake my head at his behavior, then follow after.

...

we get called to visit a new crime scene in the morning, this time in a church. Hotch holds the door open for me and I walk in to see a body laid out in front of the pews. an older woman sits towards the back, comforted by a nun.

"how'd they find him?" Prentiss asks the police chief as she leads us to the victim.

"night janitor." she nods to a man being questioned by cops in the corner.

"did he see anything?" I ask her.

"no, but he remembered a parishioner who was here earlier," we walk past the older woman. she stares at us expectantly as the chief talks. "so there could be a potential witness."

we stop at the body of a priest, his eyes covered and a blade lodged in his skull, unsurprisingly. Emily and I stare down at him, realizing the same thing.

"first public killing." she notes as she bends down to examine his wounds. "he's getting bolder."

"the presentation is just as important as the kill." I join her on the ground, snapping my gloves tighter on my hands and turning his head to the side to get a better look at the blade. semi-dried blood coats the tied fabric around his eyes.

"I'm gonna go talk to that woman." Emily leaves. the crime scene agent crouches down on the ground across from me, and I bite my lip before making a strange request.

"would you mind... sliding that thing out of his ear?"

the agent blinks at me in disbelief, probably not wanting to pry a knife out of someone's head, but nods and does so carefully. I squint down at the wound. then I realize something.

"Reid?" my voice carries across the room. Spencer is talking to an officer when he hears me and walks over.

"this doesn't look like a normal blade, but I don't know what it is." I point at the now half-buried weapon. it sits unpleasantly out, the blood catching warm light. Spencer gets down next to the crime scene agent and examines it more closely.

"this is flint." he says slowly, turning to me with a concerned expression.

"like the stone?"

"flint is the symbol for protection and retribution in Egyptian mythology. with hieroglyphics, they used to display dangerous animals like scorpions and snakes being cut with flint knives in order to render them powerless."

"oh." is all I can manage while I process what he's saying. Spencer waits for me to say something else, but instead I bend my head down to pull back the silk tie.

"there's no way that using flint is a coincidence." I reason. the blood is all on the inside of the tie as well, which gives me pause. Reid recognizes this a second later, his eyes lifting to mine. they look almost brown in the candlelight, flecks of gold sparkling in them while his mind whirs endlessly.

"I'm gonna call Garcia to see if any of the victims have been charged with a crime." he tells me.

"good idea." we both stand, the crime scene agent scurrying off to do something else. I head back over to Emily and hope that we're right about this. flint is too specific of a weapon for it not to be intentional, right?

...

we deliver the profile by the end of the work day, our unsub a serial vigilante with a personal edge to all of his killings. my body is slightly shaky from downing cups of coffee without any actual food, so the promise of eating out after we finish makes my stomach eager.

we go to a Chinese restaurant by the station and keep talking about the case, despite having promised ourselves not to do so. I sit between Prentiss and Reid while I dig into my dumplings. I like listening to them swap theories and past cases, how they weave together all their stories.

"you forgot to add something to the profile earlier today, Aaron." Rossi says as he piles more noodles onto his plate. our attention immediately focuses on the Italian.

"what did he forget?" Prentiss has a ghost of a smile on her face. I've noticed that she tends to speak like she's on the inside of a joke that other people don't understand. the intonation of her words feels like a secret.

"I didn't mention the possibility of our unsub being a cop." Hotch takes a sip of his ice water. there's a moment where we all reflect on this information before Morgan breaks the silence.

"I mean, they do know the system."

"they could easily take matters into their own hands, given what they see every day." Prentiss adds. I nod.

"when someone like our victim is killed, police refer to it as a public-service murder." Reid struggles to get the noodles onto his chopsticks, which I notice but don't say anything about. he tries again, the food slipping back onto his plate. Morgan notices this shortcoming of Spencer's and I see that he's about to start teasing him, so I change the subject.

"I saw a lot of rapists walk when I was in sex crimes," I put down my dumpling while I talk. Hotch watches me intently. I haven't spoken much about my previous job with anyone on the team, especially not him. in fact, he barely knows anything about me. "a lot of the victims didn't feel safe pressing charges, or the juries said they were asking for it. it's enough to make you wanna explode."

"it's a long way from feeling like that and actually committing a murder, though, don't you think?" Emily asks.

"not really." I turn my gaze back to my plate and start to feel nauseous. there's a clinking of plates and silverware as we continue in silence. Emily nudges my arm gently with hers and offers me a supportive smile.

I hear Spencer next to me, getting the attention of a passing waiter.

"excuse me," he says in a low tone. "can I get a fork, perhaps?"

Morgan snickers as the waiter takes off to get the utensil. at this point, there's a palpable tension as we wait to see who makes fun of Reid first. he drops his chopsticks into his bowl with a defeated clatter and Derek gently pushes his knuckles against Spencer's cheekbone.

"having some trouble, kid?" he asks. Spencer smacks his hand away.

"don't be mean." I giggle, reaching onto my wrist to grab a hair tie. "here, try this." I wrap the thing around the end of Spencer's chopsticks so that they're easier to use, handing them back to him.

Spencer tries again and it works-- if not somewhat clumsily. he gives me a little appreciative smile and I smile back before returning to my food, listening to the stories that Rossi doles out. he even pays for dinner despite our half-hearted protests.

the entertainment for the evening is pretty nice, but when I've stuffed myself with Chinese food, Emily leans over to me.

"do you wanna go to that museum you were talking about earlier?" she whispers. I peek at my phone to check the time.

"I doubt we'd have much time before they close, but yeah, definitely." excitement bubbles up in my stomach as I realize I might actually get to poke around for a while. Prentiss throws her napkin on the table abruptly.

"Clea and I are going to the Museum of Fine Arts. anyone wanna join?"

I look around to gauge some reactions.

"I'm interested." Morgan nods.

"I've already been several times." Rossi takes a sip of his drink as he politely declines. Hotch shakes his head.

"I have some paperwork I need to finish."

"again?" Prentiss complains.

"I'll go." Spencer sits up straighter as he looks at his brunette friend, folding his napkin neatly on his plate. my eyebrows raise a little, although I'm not surprised that he'd be interested in visiting any museum. we stand and get ready to go; Hotch warns us to be ready to go at seven in the morning tomorrow. a little weight is lifted off my chest as I realize that there will be some reprieve during this case, and then we're wandering out into the evening air.

we ate dinner sort of early, so the sky is still slightly aglow with a bruised shade, preparing to sink into its favorite darkness. after finding the route to the museum, we hop on the train.

Boston is lovely in the kind of way that aches of neat corners and airy lights. stores crammed with antiques and novelty products line the sidewalks, people wander about as they take in a pleasant night. somehow disjointed and cohesive all at once.

whatever bit of conversation we had on the way dissipates into breathlessness once we get inside the enormous entryway. it's cavernous, extravagant, gorgeous. we flip through brochures advertising different exhibits. Emily raves about Impressionism and decides that that must be our first stop, so we head off with the rest of the museum stragglers who have decided to feed themselves with art until they're forced to leave.

my head is constantly spinning to admire something else in the enormous white rooms. it's a bit overwhelming at some points, what with the gargantuan canvases that greet me at every turn. but it's impressive, too, and I find myself hungrily reading all the small plaques. I venture out of the Impressionism vein and into Korean art, my feet carrying me away from Morgan and Prentiss. Spencer broke off a while ago; to where, I have no idea.

I check out vases and pottery, sculptures, renderings of historical events. images from the crime scenes fill my head intrusively. there's no use in trying to shut them out; they've been in my dreams for a while now, the kind that wake me up in a cold sweat. I haven't told anyone about them— I'm sure others get them, too— and I don't want to seem like I can't handle it. every time I close my eyes, I begin to feel the pressure of a knife against my temple.

"a lot of these are from private collections."

the voice causes me to jump, my skin erupting in goosebumps as Spencer stands beside me. he holds his bag against his side and follows my line of sight to the 18th-century bookshelf screen.

"that's interesting." I reply. what else is there to say to that?

"really makes you think about what other art pieces won't ever be seen by the public." he turns and starts walking onto the next work, seemingly done with this conversation. my brow furrows while I watch him go, his posture miserable as a result of his skinny build. he's quite tall.

"what do you mean?" my voice comes out quiet, but it carries in the otherwise empty exhibit. Reid turns around and stops in his place, allows me to catch up briefly. we start to read another plaque by a silver basin.

"you could have a Cézanne just rotting in your attic and it would never be examined by the right scholars." he shrugs.

"I really doubt there's anything nearing that value in my attic." I laugh.

"you ever seen 'Antiques Roadshow'?" he asks non-sarcastically. I balk.

"sure."

"you never know." he's not a man of many words, apparently. I get his message regardless and we continue to walk, him setting out facts for me in neat rows, simple and easily taken in. he's definitely a know-it-all, but not in the way that makes me want to escape his presence. it's sort of comforting, having someone around who just understands everything. his absolute lack of social graces makes him easy to be around, too; I don't need to force conversation because he doesn't care.

we wind up in the mummy section, where the walls tingle with an energy that could only be described as magical.

"spooky." I nod to the domineering sarcophagus lid of Kheperra. a spotlight illuminates all of its intricacies and I make a beeline for it. Spencer trails behind me and we fall into silence as we peer at the exquisite details. it's intimidating, for sure, hulking and made of carved black stone. "you feel that?" I whisper to Spencer, who is enthralled in the image.

the way the spotlight spills over onto him is interesting; it emphasizes the shadow below his jaw and the delicate quality of his bone structure, his cheekbone prominent at the place where his ear meets his face. his lashes are long and lovely, his Adam's apple poking out of a slender throat. he turns to me with a curious expression.

"feel what?"

"the energy change," I smile. "from the ancient dead bodies."

"it's probably just the dark lighting and the media associations you have with mummies." but his eyes begin flitting about the room in a slightly panicked manner. I feel a smirk tug at my lips as I step closer to him.

"are you scared?"

"no," he scoffs and makes a face like I've made the world's most absurd accusation. "why would I be scared?"

"because we're all alone in here..." I use a lower tone to freak him out a little. "who's to stop them from coming out and... snatching us?" when my hand snakes around behind him to pinch his arm, he jumps.

"what the--" he catches sight of the devilish grin on my face. "don't do that!"

"sorry, Einstein." I laugh and turn in the other direction, him following me to the next piece. Spencer doesn't seem to have more thoughts to give on the exhibition, probably still a little creeped out. part of me begins to feel guilty for startling him, even though he constantly does that to me. his footfalls are weirdly soft.

I wonder what Spencer is like outside of work. what he does when he gets back to his apartment. how could someone like him entertain themselves? maybe he just reads books until his eyes glaze over. he definitely doesn't go out often, but maybe he has other nerdy friends. I hope he does. there's something in his eyes that's too viscous for me to grasp, something swimming and pocketed. I'd like to understand it, although that doesn't seem like a great idea to pursue. he barely gives his closest friends information about his life.

we end up at opposite ends of the room, him still examining an entombed husband and wife couple while I check out a canonic jar. the silence in this room is tangible. I wasn't lying when I felt an energy shift— it's like gold and clay and it smells like cracked cinnamon.

I'm trying to get a better look at the detailing when I feel a cold hand wrap around my forearm, easily encircling it. I jolt.

Spencer stands behind me with a playful smile, like he's quite pleased with himself.

"Reid!" I yank my arm away from his long fingers and see him let out that rare laugh. it's pleasant and fills the room with a warmer light as I rub my arm where his fingers held me. I'm surprised he was willing to touch me at all; it's pretty obvious that he's got a problem with germs, which is understandable.

"who's scared now?" he tries to defend himself with his palms when I reach out to gently smack his shoulder.

"you know, I was starting to feel bad for you." I laugh. he smiles brightly and keeps walking into the next room. I realize that the way we move is like two weighted ends of a string. he drifts out on his own, I follow, and vice versa.

I appreciate that he's beginning to loosen up around me, so much so that he smiles at a joke I make in the English Regency section. we walk quickly to absorb as much as we can before the museum closes, but we still don't get through all of it. Spencer isn't much of a conversationalist, and he doesn't really need to be. he listens to me talk, I listen to his erudite observations, smiling when he uses certain terms that sound like they're from someone much older.

by the time a curator tells us we have to go, we've completely lost Prentiss and Morgan and end up meeting back at the entrance. it's pitch black outside; Boston is still bustling, except my legs are tired and I'm ready to crash in bed. we have another packed day tomorrow.

#spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #dr. reid #criminal minds #mgg #fanfic #fanfiction #wattpad #friends to lovers #BAU #slow burn

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