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‘Wait,’ the voice came back. Ripley turned to her partner and rolled her eyes.
‘Power play,’ she said.
Ella nodded. The fight for domination had begun before they’d even stepped into the room. ‘This should be fun.’
‘Enter,’ Carter called from inside his office. Ripley stepped in with Ella in tow. Carter’s focus remained on a stack of papers in his desk, not looking up to greet his new arrivals. Ella was quick to notice that the office had been transformed in the wake of the shift in hierarchy. Gone were the personal touches that Edis had brought to the space – the family photos, the little trinkets from a lifetime of service. Even his worn leather sofas had been replaced with single-seater black chairs.
At last, Carter looked up from his paperwork. Perhaps it was Ella’s knowledge of his past altercations, but she was immediately drawn to the scar tissue beneath his right eye. Ella wasn’t sure if his eye was fake or real, but he’d balanced them out with blue contact lenses. Carter’s hair, swept to one side with a perfect parting, was a dark shade of gray, hinting at his fifty-something years. The man seemed impeccably groomed to an almost artificial degree, complete with fake tan, gold cufflinks and a tight suit that hugged his scrawny frame.
‘The golden girls,’ Carter said. He gestured to the two black chairs against the wall of his office. ‘Please, take a seat.’
‘Good to meet you, Mr. Carter,’ said Ella. She reasoned there was no point antagonizing him. If she had to work with this man going forward, she might as well try and be courteous, despite his past. Ripley remained quiet.
‘Thank you for coming,’ Carter said. ‘I’m sure you’re both aware of the changes to upper management, and starting this week, there’s going to be changes on every level – yours included.’
Ella’s jaw tightened, but she did her best to remain stoic. ‘What kind of changes?’
Carter’s tone shifted as he glanced between the two agents, not lingering on Ripley for longer than a microsecond each time. Now that Ella looked closer, she spotted the lack of functionality in his right eye.
'My approach differs a lot from my predecessor. I believe in efficiency, streamlining processes, and, most importantly, accountability. There will be changes in the operational structure and the way we operate in the field.’
‘Cut the psychobabble, Carter,’ Ripley chimed in. ‘We liked Edis and his way of doing things. It got the best results the Fed had seen in years.’
Carter leaned back in his chair, arms folded. 'I guessed you'd have something to say about change, Miss Ripley. And before you make a snide remark, no, I haven't forgotten about our history.'
‘Can’t change the past,’ Ripley said.
Ella felt the tension rising, and such changes in atmosphere weren’t conducive to productive relationships.
‘Mr. Carter, what does this mean for me and Mia? ‘With all due respect, our partnership has been one of the Bureau's most effective. I hope any changes won't disrupt what we've built.’
Carter's smile was thin. ‘I respect your track record, ladies. Miss Dark, your rise through the ranks has been impressive. And Miss Ripley, you remain as consistent as ever.’ Carter let the comment hang between her and her once-puncher for a moment, giving Ripley time to process the undertones. ‘But I'm tasked with looking at the bigger picture. The FBI needs to adapt, and sometimes that means making tough decisions.’
‘Like?’ Ripley asked.
'It's funny you mention psychobabble, Miss Ripley, because that's part of our problem. You see, behavioral profiles are a product of the seventies, the Douglas era, which, for all its breakthroughs, was a dark time for us. Fifty years is a long time to go without change.'
Carter was referring to John Douglas, the FBI agent who laid the groundwork for psychological profiling. ‘Mr. Carter, you’re not suggesting we move away from behavioral profiling?’ she asked.
‘That’s exactly what I’m saying,’ Carter said with a smirk.
Ella exchanged a look with her partner. Behavioral profiling was the background to their entire operation and without it they’d be left chasing flimsy evidence.
‘That’s a stupid idea,’ Ripley said. ‘Profiling is the blueprint. Without a blueprint, there’s nothing to go on.’
‘I hate to be the one to tell you this, but behavioral profiles are flimsier than toilet paper. Take it from a former attorney who’s had to use your profiles to secure convictions. They don’t hold up in court, and they’re not exactly hard science. We live in a data-driven age, ladies. Algorithms, analytics, technology – these are the tools of modern law enforcement. Not blueprints based on methods that were developed fifty years ago.’
Ella felt a sense of unease. ‘With all due respect, Mr. Carter, there’s a reason why the old methods still work. Human intuition, experience – these aren’t things you can program into a computer. The psychopathic ego hasn’t changed.’
‘I’m not asking, Miss Dark, I’m telling.’ Carter pulled two brown folders from his drawer and threw them across to Ella and Ripley. ‘From here on out, I want you to follow the hard evidence, not the psychology.’
Ripley interjected, ignoring the folder in front of her. ‘So what? We just throw out everything we know about criminal psychology? All those years of research and successful cases?’
‘No. I’m saying we evolve. Isn’t that a term you profilers love? Anyway, I’m sending you both out of a new case that fell in our laps an hour ago. Please check your folders.’
Ella quickly leafed through the folder, but her mind was elsewhere. Ripley sighed as she picked hers up.
‘Three murders over three nights,’ said Carter. ‘I don’t know the finer details. All I know is that some pervert is suffocating people down in Connecticut and I need him found.’
