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Melanie didn’t have any at the moment. “Not right now, sir.”
“I’m sure you will. If not, you’re not doing the job. Questioning everything is how you get to the conclusions. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir.” She stopped herself from saying “crystal.”
“Good. Airman, please give Drake some time to peruse the binder and then show her to the library.”
“Yes, sir.” He saluted as the captain left the room.
Melanie resisted the temptation to utter the word chilly to Gonzalez, who remained standing, but her expression didn’t lie.
“Are you allowed to sit?” she asked innocently.
“No, ma’am. Not as long as you are in my custody.”
“Custody? Well. I suppose I should get busy.” She opened the binder, scanned the table of contents, and flipped through the pages. The rules and regulations were exactly the same as those at Glynco. The binder was also divided into three sections denoting the levels of organization. As of now, she was at the bottom, but she was determined to get through this part of her training so she could begin to do something important. Something worthwhile. She knew her work was cut out for her, but she was also used to being a bookworm study sponge. She spent a half hour with the binder, then decided it was time to get on to the next thing. She looked up at Gonzalez. “I think I’m ready.”
“Follow me, please.” He opened the door but immediately got in front of her as soon as she exited. They walked through the quad that led to the library. It was massive, resembling those she was used to in college. The only difference was the people. Everyone was in one type of uniform or another. Since enrolling in the program, she’d learned to differentiate between the ranks and the civilians. There was a mixture of both here.
Gonzalez brought her over to the librarian. “Major Gunther, this is Melanie Drake, our new profiling apprentice. Please see that she is furnished with the necessary materials to begin her studies.”
“Good morning, Melanie. We normally call people by their last name, but there are several Drakes here.”
“Can we use a moniker? I’ve been referred to as MelDrake to avoid confusion.”
Major Gunther smiled. “I think that should be fine. You’re civvy,” meaning a civilian. “Airman, please show MelDrake to the research area of her field.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Gonzalez gave the librarian a short salute. “Follow me.” Melanie obeyed as they made their way to an escalator that brought them to another floor filled with books, tables, and personnel. “One more.” He gestured to another escalator.
When they arrived on the third floor, Melanie noticed that every volume looked identical. Gonzalez spoke. “These are all reference files. They are in chronological order. The main directory will indicate which volume coincides with your investigation.”
“Thank you, Airman Gonzalez.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll be back at twelve-hundred-hours to escort you to the cafeteria.” He turned and walked away.
Melanie stared at the hundreds upon hundreds of volumes. Figuring out where to start was part of her orientation. She decided to start at the beginning.
* * *
She looked up the first, most infamous serial killer, Jack the Ripper. He had lived during the nineteenth century, when Scotland Yard was burdened with the murder and mutilation of five female prostitutes in the Whitechapel area on the East Side of London, between August and November in 1888. The assailant would kill his victims, remove their internal organs, and slit their throats. Dr. Thomas Bond, a police surgeon, investigated the case and drew several conclusions. The perpetrator, most likely male, had to be physically strong. Cool-headed, as well as daring. The fact that his victims were prostitutes led Bond to believe the perpetrator had erotic tendencies coupled with a homicidal mania. Though he was never apprehended, the five cases were identical in nature. There were several other murders in London at that time, but none had the same characteristics.
This new way of looking at crime began a movement among forensically inclined psychologists and psychiatrists, who began publishing articles and case studies on the subject, including a psychological assessment of Adolf Hitler.
* * *
Between 1940 and 1956, New York was plagued by a madman who detonated over 37 bombs in public places such as subways, theatres, bus depots, and a library. For sixteen years, the city of New York was terrorized by this mastermind of destruction appropriately named “The Mad Bomber.” He confounded the largest police department in the world, with his homemade bombs and cryptic notes.
Out of utter desperation, the police contacted Dr. James Brussel, a New York psychiatrist who worked with the New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene and specialized in criminal behavior. Initially, Brussel was hesitant to take part in such a high-profile case, but was ultimately encouraged to do his civic duty. His approach was to work backward, in what he called reverse psychology. Today it’s referred to as criminal profiling.
Brussel studied the crime scene photos and the notes left by the bomber. The psychiatrist had an uncanny ability to connect clues and concluded the offender suffered from paranoid schizophrenia. Brussel explained that people with this disorder suffered from the belief that people were plotting against them. They were usually antisocial and reclusive but could function within the main populus for short periods of time. Brussel believed the condition didn’t fully manifest and become completely symptomatic in most patients until the age of thirty-five. Given the sixteen-year span of the bombings, he surmised the perpetrator was in his fifties, unmarried, and self-educated. His rudimentary bomb making supported that conclusion. In addition, Brussel offered the theory that this person had a very high regard for himself, and felt the need to exhibit his superiority. He did so by sending handwritten letters to local newspapers, signing them F.P. Another characteristic Brussel observed was the way they were neatly printed in block letters, and erratically spaced with outdated phrases, suggesting English was not his first language.
After Brussel concluded his findings, he urged the police to have them written up in The New York Times on Christmas Day. If Brussel was right, F.P. would make his presence known. Brussel lived in a residence at Creedmoor, a psychiatric hospital where the switchboard was instructed to loop in the police department should Dr. Brussel receive any odd or suspicious phone calls. As predicted, two days later, Brussel received a call in the middle of the night. The caller identified himself as F.P. and threatened the doctor. Several weeks later, George Metesky was arrested in his home in Westchester, establishing Brussel as a folk hero. This widely publicized case united the fields of psychiatry and police work, now known as “profiling.”
* * *
Melanie slumped in her chair. That was a lot of heavy reading she’d just ingested. Speaking of digestion, she glanced at the clock. Gonzalez should be arriving any minute to escort her to lunch. She stretched, stood, and stretched again. She thought about what she’d read. Gathering clues. Connecting clues. It was a mental jigsaw puzzle. For the first time since she’d joined OSI, she had a good feeling about her pursuits. Having been an avid reader of mysteries, she believed this could be the path she was meant to follow. Gonzalez appeared and invited her to join him for lunch. “First day is on me.” He smiled. It was the first time he’d broken the formality of strict military conduct. She was, after all, a civilian.
“Thank you. That’s very kind.” Melanie smiled.
