called this serial killer duo a disgrace to the LAPD not because the Los Angeles police failed to catch the deranged cousins for the next year.
It was only after the LAPD arrested Kenneth Bianchi that they discovered he had taken a temporary job at the police department during his crimes, often accompanying them to crime scenes where bodies were found.
"So you're saying the relationship between these two killers isn't a traditional partnership? More like a mentor and apprentice?"
Joyner interjected again, though almost everyone present noticed her constant glances at Hotchner.
Everyone in the BAU, including Hannah and Jack, privately speculated about their true relationship. Since no one believed the stoic Hotchner was having an extramarital affair, the majority voted that he was in unrequited love.
However, according to a bored old man who wished to remain anonymous but possessed considerable authority within the FBI, Hotchner had worked on several international cases as an assistant federal prosecutor before joining the FBI.
Judging by the timing, Joyner was working as a detective at Scotland Yard at the time, and the two likely crossed paths. At the time, Hotchner likely didn't even know his current wife, Hallie.
As for the specifics of their relationship, whether there was a romantic relationship that ultimately ended due to their separation, it's likely unknown unless the two parties speak up.
However, after meeting her at the airport and spending time alone, Hotchner suddenly changed his address to Joyner, switching from the more affectionate first name to her last name. This suggests someone's ulterior motives may have been frustrated.
Seeing everyone else silent, Jack, to avoid awkwardness, stepped in to explain, "Dominant and submissive might be a more appropriate description. Their actual relationship could be father and son, or colleagues with a superior-subordinate relationship." "
Could it be some emerging gang?" Danny, the most familiar street gang enthusiast, suddenly interjected.
Reid unexpectedly agreed with his speculation. "Although the probability is small, we can't rule it out. It could be the early stages of some gang or organization, using random killings as a token of formal membership."
"Gangs generally have their own territories, so they're unlikely to randomly kill people across the entire city, but it's certainly an idea." Emily thought for a moment and nodded in agreement.
Jiejie immediately thought of the role she could play. "I'll contact the FBI's Organized Crime Division. We should have detailed information on various gangs in the New York area by tomorrow morning at the latest."
"The NYPD also has a Crime Syndicate Division that handles gang intelligence. I'll contact them now." Danny had just picked up his phone when it vibrated.
After answering the phone, Danny's face darkened. "There's just been a street shooting on Wall Street."
Jubal, who had been in the outer office, operating from the operations center, pushed open the conference room door. "The killer has struck again."
Everyone's nerves tightened. Previously, street shootings had only occurred every two or three days, always at noon. But there had just been one yesterday at the subway station, and now there's another. Why has the killer's frequency suddenly increased? What does this mean?
Hotchner grabbed his coat from the chair. "Everyone, follow me to the scene."
The actual Wall Street, in its true geographical sense, is only about 500 meters long and only 11 meters wide. It's very narrow, stretching from Broadway to the East River, with seven intersections.
Nowadays, most financial institutions have long since left the geographically defined Wall Street, relocating to Midtown Manhattan, where transportation is more convenient and the views are more expansive.
Especially after 9/11, some institutions simply left New York City for neighboring New Jersey. Of the old Wall Street, aside from the Federal Reserve Bank of New York, there are virtually no other financial institutions left.
Even the symbol of Wall Street, the bronze bull that almost every tourist visiting Manhattan must touch, isn't actually located on this street. Instead, it's displayed in a corner park at the south end of Broadway.
The crime scene wasn't on Wall Street either, but rather close by, at an intersection southwest of the famous Trinity Cathedral.
The cemetery behind Trinity Cathedral, where Alexander Hamilton, one of the nation's founding fathers, is buried, is one of New York's most famous tourist attractions.
Therefore, this intersection is bustling with people, yet despite this, no one could clearly see the killer's face.
The victim, a middle-aged, balding Jewish businessman, lay facedown on the curb. Like the previous victims, the .22 bullet wasn't powerful enough to penetrate both layers of the skull, resulting in only entry wounds and no exit wounds.
The crowd at the scene was likely larger than ever before, many of whom had clearly read the reports. Amidst whispers, their gazes shone with a touch of panic and fear.
While gunfights are a daily occurrence in free America, sporadic shootings are different from the confirmed presence of a street killer. The latter hangs like a sword of Damocles over everyone's head, truly ensuring lifelong equality.
An average person can choose to avoid dangerous neighborhoods, avoid going out at night, or even avoid going to schools and certain "especially crowded religious places," but most people can't avoid the streets.
After examining the body and re-covering it with the white cloth, Jack and Red stood up and simultaneously glanced at the surveillance camera mounted on the traffic light behind them. Judging from the angle, the camera could only capture the killer's back, clearly another carefully chosen target.
Danny and his female partner, Jenny, walked back to the scene, pens and notebooks in hand, expressions of frustration evident on their faces. "There were witnesses everywhere, but no one had a clear look at the killer, including the burrito vendor who stood less than five meters from the victim."
Jack pointed to the pretzel next to the victim. "Did you buy this from him?"
Jenny nodded. "Yes, his cart was parked at the traffic light. He said he was in a hurry, bought a burrito, and then walked to the intersection to hail a taxi.
The next moment, gunshots rang out, and when he turned around, he saw a man in a hoodie crossing the intersection."
Danny sighed, gazing at the crowd of onlookers. "Now I understand why Grandpa said that to us.
People felt the same way back during the Son of Sam era. These completely random acts of violence were despairing, and the police were completely at a loss. Both sides knew there was little they could do to prevent the next murder."
"After six murders, they finally left us something." Rossi showed him a card in the evidence bag.
"What's this?" Danny asked curiously.
"A tarot card, 'Death,' thrown by the murderer on the victim."
(End of chapter)