Title: Buyer Beware Author: Folieadeux Rating: PG (some violence) Category: Casefile, UST Distribution: Anywhere, as long as these headers stay intact. Let me know please, I'd like to keep track of where it goes. Feedback: I'm begging you. No, really. folieadeux98@hotmail.com Spoilers: None. It feels like it exists somewhere between S5 & S6. Disclaimer: How do you own an idea? Well, if you can, I don't. Summary: Too many deaths in the largest mall in America. Authors Note: As usual, the hangman scene is an homage to Justin Glaser's fic "Certitude". Check it out. Any reference to The Mall of America is for fictional purposes and is not meant in any other capacity. All the factual data on the mall is correct, at least at the time I began this little journey. Any incorrect Brittish slang is totally mine. I apologize if I offend any friends from across the pond. All thank you's and fond words are saved for the final installment. ====================================================================== Everyone thinks my job is exciting - glamorous.  It's not.  The hours are brutal and the paper works a real bugger.  I'm never anywhere for more than a few days.  The constant travel keeps me bloody knackered and lonely.  I know, that surprises you, but it's true. One morning while sitting on the back of a camel trudging to another   out-of-the-way, God-forsaken place I had this idea.  It was bloody brilliant. I was reading a National Geographic  article titled, The New Ecosystem. It was the story of this huge monstrosity of a shopping center in the States. The Mall of America, they called it.  Just like the Yanks to build something daft like that, living in a big beautiful country and they don't like to go outside. I've forgotten to tell you the most important part of my story: my job. My official title is, "Accidental Expirations, 2nd class".  I'd prefer the term 'fortuitous' myself, but bureaucracy seldom uses any imagination in job titles. Most people just call me Death. I don't mind, it has a nice ring to it. People have no bloody idea how involved and time-consuming death is as a career. It's impossible for one person to handle the entire caseload. You see, there are all types of death: accidental, diseased, self-inflicted - not to mention all the different sub-categories like human and non-human. It's true, even dogs and cats have their own department - strictly entry level -  a real bugger of an assignment.  My department is the best, accidental death can be very interesting and one of the more exciting, if I may say so myself. We each have our own service areas and report to a district supervisor. It's all very sussed - has to be or everything gets wonky. Can you imagine if it were run like the Italian post?  What a blooming nightmare.  No one would ever die properly and certainly never on time. Anyway, back to my story. It occurred to me that if I could get a transfer to that district, I could just go to this shopping center and do my job from there. No one would be the wiser and I would get a chance to relax - enjoy my life a bit. I mean, everyone in the States goes to those malls eventually, right? No more of this God-forsaken wandering, lousy accommodations, lousy food, bad weather. No more camel rides. I bloody hate camels. They're a nasty lot they are. The article made this shopping center sound perfect - bloody perfect. The job I was on at the time was a cinch: 32-year-old woman dies from a venomous snake bite.  She wasn't watching where she was going, I stuck my foot out; she tripped. Landed right on the thing. Whole lot taken care of in less than 10 minutes. Once back at the office I put in for a transfer. No use faffing around once you get a good idea. A buddy of mine, works for Human Resources, owed me a favor. Next thing I know I'm on my way to the US of A. The great state of Minnesota - Land of 1000 bloody lakes or something like that. I was bloody well chuffed with myself. It really was brilliant. For awhile. How was I to know that anyone would pay attention to my goings on? That I'd be unlucky enough to stumble onto the two people who would actually look for patterns within no patterns at all. It's so unfair. Now I don't know what the bloody hell I'm going to do. I'll tell you this much though: I'm not going down without a fight. They don't call me Death for nothing. I'm not someone to be buggered with; I don't care how smart you dress or how pretty your hair is.    =================================================== THREE WEEKS EARLIER FBI HEADQUARTERS WASHINGTON, D.C.  US of A The two agents sat in their darkened basement office side by side, shoulders touching. The man with his feet propped up on the corner of the desk. The woman with her legs stretched out before her, ankles primly crossed. Mulder's left hand held the remote to the slide projector perched on the table behind them. His right hand was at his mouth, where he maneuvered a sunflower seed between his teeth. Scully held the seed bag in her left hand while her right also maneuvered a seed. "Ready, Scully?" "Wow me, Mulder." -CLICK- The Mall of America, Bloomington, Minnesota. Used to be the largest mall in the world. Now it's the second, to one in Canada..." "Damn Canadians." "Easy, Scully.  It's still pretty impressive. It opened August 11, 1992 and since then more than 270 million people have visited. It gets from 600,000 to 900,000 visitors a week depending on the season. It has more than 520 stores, 49 different places to eat, eight night clubs, 11,000 year round employees, and almost 20,000 parking spaces." Scully let out a low slow whistle. "Wait - there's more. It's key attractions include everything from several amusement parks to a wedding chapel. In 1997 the National Park Service listed it as the most visited destination for US travelers. It gets more visitors annually then Disney World, the Grand Canyon, and..." Mulder placed his hand over his heart and effected a genuine grimace  before finishing his sentence. "...Graceland combined." A silence fell over the darkened and cluttered room. "I can only assume you have something even more gruesome to share with me about this little slice of heaven." "Yeah, I just thought I'd let the horror of it sink in for a few moments before I delivered the kicker. In the last six months it has acquired another interesting distinction: it's also our most deadly tourist destination." "Oooh," Scully whispered. Mulder turned his head to smile at her. "Make that sound again." "You're out of focus, Mulder." Scully tossed a cracked shell into the wastepaper basket between their feet. Turning back to the screen, Mulder continued, "In the last six months 22 shoppers have died on or around the premises of this mall." Scully's hand stopped midway to her mouth as she cocked one eyebrow in Mulder's direction. "Wow," she said with genuine sincerity. "I knew that would get you." "How did they all die?" "I'm getting to that." he said as he switched to the next slide. -CLICK- "They have choked on a piece of chicken in the food court." -CLICK- "Been electrocuted." -CLICK- "Fallen down an elevator shaft." -CLICK- "Been hit by a bus." -CLICK- "One broke his neck while on an escalator." -CLICK- "One was even killed when a large chandelier in Bloomingdales fell and landed on her." -CLICK- "But my personal favorite - drum roll, please - one was 'accidentally' shot by another shopper over the last, Princess Diana Beanie Baby in stock.  The shooter swears she was only trying to frighten the other woman, that her finger was never on the trigger and she doesn't know how the gun went off." Scully sat and stared at the screen in silence, her mouth agape. After several seconds she said, "That's only seven, Mulder. What about the other 15?" "Variations on a theme.  All accidents except two, a heart attack and a stroke. They're all listed in the file itself." "Wow." "You said that already." "Yeah but, Mulder....wow." Mulder couldn't believe his luck. Dr. Scully, speechless. "So - you packed?" "Well, Mulder...while I find it amazing and justifiably creepy, I don't think a mall with it's own ecosystem is an X-file." "Very funny. I'm not talking about the mall, Scully." "I know, Mulder, but still... These are all accidents, except for the two.   Didn't the local authorities investigate this already?" "They ruled them all accidental, yes.  But they didn't get one of these." With that, Mulder reached over to the desk and grabbed an envelope. He handed it to his partner with a flourish. "What's this?" "Read it." Opening the letter Scully started to read aloud.... "Dear Agent Mulder: I know this is going to sound strange but I have a problem and I don't know what to do about it. I'm a security guard at the Mall of America in Minnesota, and I think I saw Death the other night at the ice cream yogurt stand outside Radio Shack." Slowly Scully raised her eyes to Mulder with a look which he was remarkably familiar. "You have got to be kidding me, Mulder." "What - you don't think Death likes yogurt? Just keep reading." "I'm afraid to tell anyone for fear they'll think I'm crazy. That article I read about you in The Lone Gunmen made me think I could tell you and you would help me. It sounds like you'll believe anything..." Scully snorted aloud when she read that part. "Anyway."  Mulder snatched the letter from Scully's fingers. "It just goes on to talk about how he's seen this man around the mall a lot lately, as well as on the video surveillance tapes, and that he's pretty sure he's up to no good." "The Gunmen did an article on you?" "It was an old one. They did a retrospective last month and it was included in it. You know, sort of a 'best of' kind of thing."  Mulder started to busy himself with turning on the lights and putting away the slide projector. "Was I mentioned in the article?" Mulder stopped what he was doing. This was a girl question and he knew it. He hadn't spent six years with this woman and not learned a little something about girl questions. Girl questions were questions that had no right answers. You were screwed whatever you said. "Uh, well...yes and no." "Yes and no?  Which is it, Mulder?" "Come on, Scully; it was a long time ago. We'd only been partners a year or so when it was printed. The guys didn't even really know you then. Besides, I'm sure you've read it already. So - what do you think about the case?" He was trying to change the subject and she knew it. Suddenly her eyes got large. "Mulder! You're not talking about the hot tomato article?" Damn. "They reprinted the hot tomato article!?" "Now Scully, just calm down. It's a very nice article, really - very flattering. And no one who knows you thinks you're a hot tomato." The chagrined look on Mulder's face was more than Scully could take. She started to laugh aloud. Her blue eyes changed from furious to soft and the suddenness of it made Mulder's heart go ka-boom. "Well, I mean, you know... No one thinks you're a hot tomato but me and Frohike - and he doesn't count," he said softly. "Uh huh. Come on, Mulder. Let's go to the mall." =================================================== MINNEAPOLIS / ST.PAUL INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT 10:00 AM Mulder and Scully navigated airports like a well-oiled machine. It was as much a part of their routine as their speed dial buttons or the constant paperwork. They never checked baggage, only bringing what they could carry on. Scully carried a photo copy of the car rental form in her bag. The information never changed so they always made the rental agency kid fill it out, signing it at the end. They always refused the additional insurance, and Mulder would invariably argue with the Lariat employee about how useless the extra insurance was. Mulder almost always drove. Something about it soothed him, so Scully rarely objected. Besides, she liked going through the files and reports while Mulder sang along with the radio or listened to a ball game of some sort. Sometimes she just looked out the window at the passing scenery. It might not be the life most people saw for themselves but she found herself strangely contented with it lately - content to do a job she found interesting, with a man she couldn't imagine being without. As soon as they were in the rental car and making their way toward the freeway the signs began. =Come to the Mall of America!= =See the USA's biggest mall!= =Legoland at the Mall of America!= "I think they're trying to tell us something, Scully." "So much for subliminal advertising." They spotted it in the distance, long before they arrived at the appropriate exit.  It was laid out before them like a small city, or maybe a large town. Depending on how a person looked at it. They exited the freeway and made their way towards the shopping mecca glimmering before them in the early afternoon light. "Where does the note say we're meeting the guard again?" They had stopped at an intersection waiting for the light to turn green. Scully quickly scanned the note in her hand, "Umm...at the Northeast corner by the Snoopy town roller coaster, entrance FF." "Snoopy town roller coaster - got it. Ok...there must be a sign around here someplace." The agents craned their heads left and right desperately looking for any signs saying "Snoopy" or "roller coaster". Nothing. "Maybe we should just drive around the perimeter till we see something." Scully began to open the map she'd grabbed back in the car rental office. Mulder turned right and started to drive north. "Mulder, according to the map we should try to park in the Pumpkin Patch lot." "Pumpkin Patch...Pumpkin Patch...Pumpkin Patch - I see it!" Mulder made a quick left turn as he saw the parking lot sign about a football field over his left shoulder. Ten minutes later they were parked and making their way towards the giant building. It filled the expanse of their horizon like a mushroom cloud. As they approached the Snoopy Town entrance, they could see a security guard pacing back and forth in front of a huge Snoopy head that made up the structures entrance. Mulder shot a bemused glance at his partner as they stepped onto the sidewalk. She was trying valiantly not to crack a smile but her forehead was creased with the effort. Mulder slowed so he was standing a bit behind Scully as they began to reach for their badges. "Excuse me. Are you Eric Hall?" Mulder directed his question to the pacing guard. Seemingly startled, the guard stopped his marching to face the two agents. "Yes. Yes, I am. Are you Agent Mulder?" he replied as he tentatively stretched out his hand. "Yes, Mr. Hall and this is my partner, Agent Scully." Mulder shook the man's hand while lifting his badge, Scully following his lead. This was another part of their mutual balance. Lift badge - shake hands - first one, then the other - punctuated at the end by Mulder's hands in his pockets, Scully's arms crossed in front of her - a long-standing and time-honored bit of silent conversation. The security guard was clue less, having only witnessed it for the first time. "Thank you so much for answering my letter. I'm sure it seemed bizarre. I never thought you would actually call me, let alone fly here." Eric Hall seemed nervous, the sentences coming out of his mouth in breathy agitated puffs. "Should we not have come here, Mr. Hall? Did you make this up?" Scully volleyed the first shot at the nervous security guard. "What? Um...I wouldn't...I'm...No!...No! I didn't make anything up!" The guard finally managed to sputter one of the many thoughts backed up behind his earnest eyes. Security guard Eric Hall was an honest man. His lack of killer instinct tended to get him trampled on, but he'd never seemed to mind. Maybe he never noticed. Either way, he was a man with a clear conscience who had only recently been burdened enough to lose sleep over anything. Eric stood a little over 6 feet tall with a stocky build. He was not fat, but not thin either. Luckily for him, his love for food was combined with a job that included a lot of walking. He was very blond, with a light tan on his face which darkened considerably when it reached the back of his neck - a hazard of the baseball cap which was an ever - present part of his uniform.  He took it off now as he shook hands with the two FBI agents. He was almost bald, with a closely shaved strip around the bottom of his head. Scully thought he looked a little like Skinner but less powerful, in build and presence. "Relax...Relax. It's fine. We believe you, Eric. You just seem nervous.   Everything okay?" Mulder relaxed his posture and moved closer to the guard trying to put him at ease. "I'm sorry. You're right. Considering the letter I sent you, that's a fair question. I'm just uptight because my boss yelled at me this morning when I told him you were coming. Now I'm starting to wonder if I did the right thing. Maybe he's right: maybe I do see too many movies." He finished his thought with a scuff of his security guard boot on the pavement, at the same time stuffing his large hands into his navy blue synthetic pants. "Did your boss know you wrote to the FBI?" Scully's posture remained guarded. "No, he didn't. But after another person died and I saw that guy again, I thought I'd better tell someone you were coming." "Another person died?" Scully dropped her arms, temporarily forgetting her sternness. "Yeah - last night around closing time. A girl was struck by a car in the west parking lot over by Golf Mountain. It was an accident, of course, just like most of the others. But the security camera showed my guy on it at the time it happened. That's when I told my boss you were on your way." "And this made him angry?" "He's really scared of the publicity. If the media decides to make a story of it, we could have big trouble." "Well, we're certainly not here to generate publicity. Why don't you introduce us to your boss and we'll see what we can do." Scully held her arm out to the guard, ushering him into the structure ahead of her. =================================================== "I'm sorry but I just don't understand what you're doing here? What part of this situation is FBI jurisdiction?" Ronald Beck was standing up behind his desk in the main security office of the Mall of America.  An easily worried man by nature, the site of two FBI agents in dark suits with darker expressions was doing little to calm him down. Mulder dove in first. "Mr. Beck, we're only here to offer our help and expertise to what obviously is a highly unusual and unfortunate situation. My partner and I have a great deal of experience in matters such as this - " "Such as what? Accidents?" "No, unexplained occurrences. It's not our intention to inflame the situation, only to try and shed some light on it. I think you can agree that the quicker the problem is resolved the better it is for everyone." "What problem?!" Mr. Beck was becoming more and more agitated. Mulder's words seemed to be doing nothing to calm the man. "Your mall in the last six months has a higher death rate per capita than most of the cities in this state. The FBI thinks that is a situation that deserves looking into. If you continue to ignore your problems here we may be forced to make this a much bigger operation than it currently is. Wouldn't you rather limit this investigation to just Agent Scully and me?" Mulder watched as the man in front of them stopped to consider his options. He hoped Mr. Beck didn't call his bluff, as they had no way to make this any larger an operation than it already was.  Scully shot him a sideways glance -- the same thought crossing her mind. Luckily Mulder wasn't going to have to worry about that. Mr. Beck was slowly deflating back down to the slight worried man he usually was. "Is that true...about the death rate?" he said in a weak voice as he slowly sank into the chair behind his desk. "Yes, sir. Yes it is." Mulder said as he and Scully sat in the two chairs across from the worried man. Eric Hall remained standing by the door, nervously looking at the floor with his hands in his pockets. "Mr. Hall wrote us of a gentlemen who's been seen around many of the accident sights. Are you aware of this person?" Scully took the initiative at this point, letting Mulder do the observing while she asked her own questions. "Yes, Eric told me about him last night. I saw him on a couple of the security cameras as well. But I still don't understand what he could have to do with this. These were all accidents - how could he make someone get hit by a car, or cause one person to choke on a piece of chicken?" "Well sir - that's what we'd like to find out. I suspect that he may not have anything to do with it, but the fact remains that he's showing up more than he should, which we cannot ignore." Mr. Beck seemed to relax a bit at Scully's admission of doubt regarding the mysterious man on the video tape. Mulder smiled to himself at Scully's ability to comfort other people with facts. She would be surprised to know how often he also had been comforted by her ability to compartmentalize. Order from chaos. "Mr. Beck, do you think we could view some of these surveillance tapes as well as get a tour of your facility?" Scully continued. "Sure. Okay. I'll let Eric take care of everything for you, beings he's the reason your here." A little of the previous fire crept back into Mr. Becks voice as he shot an annoyed glance at the guard still standing head down in the back of the room. "Thank you." Scully extended her hand to Mr. Beck who shook it firmly. Mulder followed with a handshake of his own. =================================================== Mulder and Scully spent a large portion of their day getting a tour of the mall and its many attractions. While part of it was from a golf cart, a considerable portion of it was on foot. It seemed to go on forever. Corridor after corridor of storefronts, interrupted by potted palm trees and benches.   There appeared to be every kind of store imaginable and some stores they never would have thought existed. After finishing the shopping section of the mall, Eric took them on a guided tour of the attractions. There were roller coasters in "Camp Snoopy", and a bunch of water slides in something called "Underwater World". The areas were teeming with families pushing their screaming charges in large animal-shaped baby carriages.  Packs of hormone overloaded teenagers pretended not to notice each other while loudly drawing attention to themselves. Then there were the ever present senior citizens diligently walking their way around the perimeters of the mall, determined to fend off time in the latest Nike walking shoes. After purchasing a couple of bottled waters at the same ice cream yogurt stand Eric mentioned in his letter, Mulder and Scully sank their tailored selves into the nearest bench under a palm tree. "It's like an alternate universe, Scully. I feel like I'm looking at an entirely different planet." "It's the rest of the world, Mulder.  We're from the different planet. I don't know if you've ever noticed before, but we aren't anything like anyone else - you and I." They sat on their bench watching the passing river of people with fascination, slowly taking drinks of their water, hoping to rest their weary feet. "Is that bad?" Mulder asked, tentatively making his way back to the conversation left hanging in the air between them. "It suits me for now. Besides, I don't think I have the wardrobe to fit this lifestyle." "Nothing with flowers?" Mulder said, as he turned his face to her and gently bumped her shoulder with his. "Nothing but black," she said with a little smile. Mulder watched her closely to see how she meant it, and she suddenly wished to take it back - to tell him that she hadn't intended to make that reference. She didn't think of him and loss as a combo package. Not anymore. "Don't look so grim, Mulder. I like black." "Do you?" He wanted to believe her. "I do." When they finally arrived back at the security offices, Eric reminded them they had not yet seen the surveillance tapes. After practically begging him to put all the tapes and photos in a bag to be viewed at their hotel, he gave them a ride to their car in his golf cart. "My God, Mulder. I can't believe how exhausted I am." "No kidding." Mulder groaned as he slid into the drivers seat. Scully was trying to put on her seat belt but seemed to temporarily have forgotten how, unable to manufacture enough strength to push the metal hook into the little slot. Mulder sat slumped over with his head resting against the steering wheel. "I feel like I ran a marathon." "I know. It must be a combination of the artificial lighting and all that sensory overload. I want a shower so badly I might cry. Take me home - or, to our hotel, at least." "Can you just insert your own joke there. I'm too tired to think of anything clever right now." "Lack of cleverness never stopped you before." Scully smiled over at her exhausted partner as he too was trying to figure out the suddenly strange contraption with buckles. "That's probably true...Scully, I can't get this damn hooky thing to go in; I think it's broken or something." Mulder was getting impatient, and his fingers weren't working correctly. "Let me do it." Scully reached over, and between the both of them they managed to figure it out. "Mulder, are you okay to drive?" "Uh-huh, let's get the hell out of here." It was barely 20 minutes to their hotel, but Scully was already making little snoring noises by the time Mulder pulled into the parking lot. "We're here, Scully." Mulder nudged her shoulder to wake her up. He hated to wake her, but he was so tired if he didn't get upstairs soon, they might both be sleeping in the front seat. They rode up the elevator in silence, each slouched into a corner, staring as the red floor numbers changed, waiting for their cue.  Both were starting to undress before reaching their doors. Suit coats in hand. Mulder's tie had already been taken off; Scully was pulling her dress shirt out of her skirt as she was putting her key card in the lock. "You want to order a pizza or something, Scully?" Mulder's door was open, and he was walking through it as he spoke. Closing the door behind her, Scully yelled through the connecting doorway between their rooms. "Yeah - fine. Just don't make me leave these rooms again tonight. See you in about an hour?" "That's fine - I'll order." Mulder closed the shared door, his shoes were already off and he was working on his socks. An hour later, they were sitting at Mulder's little table, freshly scrubbed of any mall smells, and eating a large cheese pizza with hot pepper flakes.  Mulder was in his jeans and his Knicks t-shirt; Scully was dressed in her sweats and her white FBI tee with the cut sleeves.  Both of their heads were wet. "Well, that was something, don't you think?"  Scully said with her mouth full as she drank from her large bottle of water. "The mall? Yeah, that's one way to put it. How do people just wander around all day? I feel like my brain has been vacuumed out." "Uh huh.  Store after store of the same things.  I'll admit though, that when I saw that Victoria's Secret flagship store, my pulse did quicken just a little bit." "Yours too?" Scully smiled over the little table at Mulder as he started to rip off a new slice. "You know, Mulder, that's the first time we've ever been mall shopping together." "Let's hope it's the last." "We still have to watch those tapes. Something tells me we're destined to spend a lot more time in that place. We'd better get used to it." "You might be right. Shall we start?" "Okay. You take half the tapes and I'll take half, if we watch them on both TVs maybe we'll find something more quickly." "Deal. Don't forget to take the rest of your pizza." As they watched the tapes in their separate rooms, they kept the connecting door open, occasionally yelling a question or comment into the other room.  Lucky for the two agents, Eric had forwarded the tapes to directly before the incidents had occurred. Watching them turned out not to be as difficult as they had expected. In a little over an hour, they had each finished their stacks. Mulder was just finishing his last tape when Scully padded into his room in her stocking feet, her yellow lined legal pad full of notes. Mulder was sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the television, leaning back against the foot of his bed. He also had a yellow legal pad full of notes sitting on his lap. "You about done, Mulder?" "Uh huh - I got hung up on a previous tape, started watching some guy stealing women's underwear. No sign of our guy, but fascinating nonetheless." "Yeah. I watched some woman who appeared to be speaking to a mannequin." "It talk back?" "No." "Too bad." Scully lowered herself onto the floor next to Mulder. She also sat cross- legged; but instead of facing the television, she was turned towards Mulder. Taking the remote control, Mulder stopped his tape and shifted his attention to his partner. "Whatcha got?" "I don't know. Eric's right; this guy's everywhere. He's on every one of these tapes, either before or after the accidental death." "Yeah, mine as well. Did you notice how he seems to hang back, not crowding forward like the rest of the people?" "Yes.  And he doesn't seem to stick around too long. In most of mine, he's gone in less than five minutes." "Yeah, mine as well. I'm just going to quickly run through my notes. When I'm done, you run through yours. Let's see what sort of random thoughts we jotted down."  Mulder took out his pen and tapped the point next to each note as he read aloud. "Thin, middle 30s, dark wavy hair, maybe five feet eleven inches.   Professional in manner and dress. Appeared to be writing something down a couple of times, I couldn't tell what he was writing. Seemed friendly enough: speaks with several people within the area after the incidents occur. My overwhelming sense after watching him is that he's pretty pleased with himself. Several times I thought he looked like he was actually smiling. While many people are looking stunned and horrified, he seems to be unaffected by these accidents that appear to occur directly in front of him." "My notes are pretty close to yours, Mulder. 30s, neat, dark wavy hair, professional. I never saw him writing anything down; however, I did see him calling on a cell phone once. He appeared to be making the call, not answering it. "Did you have the tapes with the two deaths that were not ruled accidental..." Mulder was rustling around in his papers "...the heart attack and the stroke?" "Yes. That was odd. They were the only deaths that seemed to surprise him. The heart attack victim was behind him in line at the fish and chips stand, he did a double take when he turned around and saw the woman falling down. He never made an effort to help her, either. Just stood there staring, with his hands in his pockets. He started to look around then, eventually striking up a conversation with a woman in a suit. They both left the scene together shortly after. The stroke victim was already laying on the floor when our guy happened upon him. Practically tripped over him, but at least he did something during that one. The camera shows that he walked over and informed the woman behind the counter. He then waves to someone off camera and leaves the scene." Mulder had stretched out his legs by this time with his head resting on the end of the bed. He was staring at the ceiling, concentrating on what Scully was telling him. After a few moments silence, Scully continued. "Mulder, I'll admit, the guy is definitely odd. He's not acting like you would think a person would, when confronted with these gristly scenes. But he's not doing anything even remotely illegal. For all we know, he's just seen so many violent movies he doesn't care anymore. Or he's emotionally distant, or just plain creepy. It certainly doesn't prove that he's involved in any way." Mulder glanced sideways at his partner as she finished her point, a small smile on his lips, a large one in his eyes. "Why are you looking at me like that?" "Habit." =================================================== MALL OF AMERICA 9:30 AM With no small amount of dread, the two agents arrived back at the Mall of America bright and early the next morning. After tracking down Eric by cell phone it was agreed they would meet in the Snoopy Town food court. "See anything you want, Scully?" "I wouldn't be opposed to some coffee, Mulder." "Be right back then." Slowly, Mulder made his way to the Starbucks on the corner between Pumpkin Patch Blvd and Linus Lane. That's when he saw him - the man from the videotapes. He was slowly making his way through the crowd while sipping his own coffee. He looked freshly scrubbed, and his hair was wet. Deciding to forget the coffee, Mulder, slowly dropped in behind the man and followed him out of the food court. The suspect stopped to chat with an occasional passer-by. He seemed to be on a first name basis with several of the elderly mall walkers who were out in force for their morning exercise. He eventually strolled into a large bookstore; making his way to one of the reading tables he sat down. Pulling out a newspaper, he settled into what looked like his usual routine. Mulder pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial. "Mulder, where are you?" "Sorry; I got sidetracked. I found our guy as I was heading to get coffee. I followed him to a store where he's sitting down and reading the morning paper. Scully, this guy - whoever he is - he's got quite the life. He's like a regular cruise director or something. On his way here, he must have greeted about ten different people. Seems to be right at home, that's for sure." "What do you suggest? You think we should have a talk with him?" "I don't see why not. It's not a stretch to consider this guy a person of interest. We don't have to tell him he's been fingered as the big D." "Where are you? Wait for me." After being joined by Scully and Eric Hall, the agents made their way towards the suspect. "Excuse me, sir, I'm Special Agent Scully, and this is my partner, Agent Mulder. Would you come with us, please." Scully held out her badge for the man to see. "What's the problem, Miss?" "No problem, we just need to ask you a few questions, and would prefer to do it where we can have some privacy." As the man continued to stare at Scully, Mulder slowly stepped forward, adding his presence to his partner's. "We would prefer not to make a scene, Mr...?" The man seemed to notice Mulder for the first time, and he turned his eyes to the agent, registering the look of seriousness on the man's face. "Wentworth, Alan Wentworth." "As I was saying, Mr. Wentworth, we would prefer not to make a scene. That doesn't mean we won't." "Right - right. Let's be off then, shall we? Where are we going, and what is it you require of me?" "Just a few questions regarding some occurrences here at the mall." Mulder watched for any sign of surprise or fear on the man's face. Nothing. He did notice, however, that the man's attention was again centered on his partner. "Did you say you're name was, Scully? Would that be Ms. or Mrs. Scully?" "Ms.  Please step into the cart with Mr. Hall. He'll take us somewhere more convenient for our conversation." Mulder and Scully sat in the back seat of the golf cart while Mr. Wentworth sat up front with the security driver. "Would that be Ms. or Mrs?" Mulder leaned forward and mimicked under his breath. "Was he just asking you if you were married?" Scully turned her face to him, eyes twinkling. "Don't know. Don't speak British." "Ha. Ha." As Eric Hall led Mr. Wentworth to a small interrogation room, usually reserved for shoplifters and pick pockets, the two agents gathered their photos and tapes together to confront their suspect. What they suspected him of, at this point, they had no idea. "What are we going to accuse him of, Mulder? Bad timing?" "Nothing. Let's just grill him on his story for every one of these incidents until he starts to cry. Usually works for me." Mulder came into the room first, asking the man if he was interested in any type of beverage or whether or not he had to use the restroom. "No, I still have my coffee, I'm fine. Where's Agent Scully? Is she not joining us?" "Agent Scully will be in to join us in just a moment. Why don't we start. Mr. Wentworth, we have some questions as to why you are shown on every surveillance tape recording the many deaths that have occurred in this mall in the last six months." "Excuse me?" "There have been 22 deaths occurring on the premises of this mall within the last six months. You are seen in the surveillance videotapes at the scene of every single one of them. We find that odd, and we would like to know what you have to say about it." As soon as Mulder had finished his sentence, Agent Scully backed open the door, holding two cups of coffee. Mr. Wentworth immediately stood up upon her entrance. Looking startled at the man's sudden movement, it took Mulder a few moments to realize why the man was standing. Slowly, Mulder stood, reaching forward to help Scully with the coffees. Scully stared at the two standing men, her eyes moving from Wentworth, then to Mulder. A puzzled look on her face. "I was wondering when you would be joining us. May I help you with the coffees?" Alan Wentworth smiled warmly at the agent as he reached out to help her. "I'm fine, Mr. Wentworth. Let's proceed with the questions, shall we?" Scully handed Mulder one of the cups and started to sit down, a trace of a smile on her lips. "I was just asking Alan, here, how he manages to be on all of these video surveillance tapes."  Mulder and Scully turned their eyes expectantly to the man across from them. "Oh, I don't know.  Bad timing, I guess. Am I really on all of them?" "Yes, sir, you are. Every one of them." Scully interjected. "I don't know what to tell you, Agent. I couldn't begin to explain something like that. You have lovely eyes; has anyone ever told you that?" Alan Wentworth had his chin resting on the heel of his palm. The other hand held the coffee on the table in front of him. "Sir, shall we keep to the conversation at hand?" Mulder was tilting back in his chair now, coffee cup in hand, slowly bringing it up to his lips. Something about the man in front of him wasn't sitting right with the veteran agent. And it wasn't because he was hitting on his partner - even though, he most certainly was doing that. The man was completely unfazed by this little interrogation they were trying to conduct. He obviously couldn't care less; there was no body tension, no darting of the eyes, nothing. Zip. He wasn't even nervous. Everyone is nervous when the FBI brings them into a room to ask them questions about 22 deaths. Even innocent people got nervous at that. But not this guy - not Alan Wentworth with the cheeky accent. "You're remarkably collected, Mr. Wentworth, considering the circumstances. How can that be?" Mulder waited, watching the man. "It's not many men who can sit in front of two FBI agents, and never even look nervous." Mulder nonchalantly waved his hand in Scully's direction, never taking his eyes off the man in front of them. The man seemed to alter slightly; his eyes turned a little bit hard, less flirty. Suddenly he looked just the slightest bit older than before. "Oh, I don't know. What's there to be nervous about, really? I'm pretty sure I don't recall killing any of those 22 people you've referred to, so what's the point in being nervous? Why, Agent Mulder, do you think I should be nervous?" Mulder slowly let the chair drop back onto all fours with a faint thud. "Everyone should be a little nervous." The two men continued to stare at each other over the small table. "Sir, you seem to spend a great deal of time here at the Mall of America. Do you live here in Bloomington?" Scully interjected. The man visibly brightened at Scully's return to the conversation. "I travel a lot; I don't really live anywhere, truthfully." "May I ask what you do for a living?" "I'm in sales, Agent Scully." "What do you sell?" "Insurance." "What type of insurance?" "All types." "Do you maintain a residence in Bloomington?" "Yes." "I couldn't help but notice your accent. Are you from the UK?" "Yes, I am. London. Will you be in town long, you and your partner?" "As long as it takes." "As long as what takes?" "Till we find the answers we’re looking for." "And what answers might that be?" "Death." Mulder said quietly, breaking in on the conversation. That got Mulder the reaction he was looking for. Mr. Wentworth jerked his head towards the agent. "Excuse me?" "I said, 'death'’ that's the question we're trying to answer. That's the question that we'll need the answer to before Agent Scully and I go home." Mulder stressed the word "home" just the slightest bit, placing ownership on it, on them, the two of them. He could tell the man heard it. "Well, I hope you aren't disappointed, Agent Mulder." "I don't think I will be." =================================================== The agents spent another hour and a half with Wentworth before giving up and letting him go.  They asked him every question they could think to ask about each of the victims. Needless to say, he never cried. He never even broke a sweat. "Well, Scully, that was a total waste of time. I think I was more nervous than he was, and I'm the cop." "At least we have some personal information we can try tracking down; that's something," Scully said, while letting out a puff of air to dislodge a stray strand of hair. "I'm starved, Mulder. Can we go get something to eat - preferably outside in the daylight?" "Good idea." They packed up their papers and stowed their briefcases in the security office. Using the small map Eric had given them, they tried to make their way to the nearest food court. "Scully, I think we made a wrong turn somewhere. The map makes it look like we should be there by now." Mulder had stopped and was turning in a slow circle, trying to find something familiar. "What store number is Nordstrom?" "Um...235, and we're supposed to be making our way to 437. Dammit, Mulder, I think we took a wrong turn down there by that Disney store." Scully propped her hands on her hips, while stomping one foot. "I'm going to waste away before we find that damned food place!" Mulder tried not to laugh at his partner's charming display of irritation. Walking over, he took the map from her to study it himself. "Don't worry, Scout; I'll get you there - promise." The use of her childhood nickname made Scully smile up at him. "So, are you going to tell me what was going on between you and the cheeky guy up there?" Her eyes had lost their annoyed look and were back to a clear blue. "Sure, as soon as you tell me what was going on between you and the cheeky guy up there." "Ahh, the Mulder dodge." "I learned from the master." "There was nothing going on between us. I was trying to ask him questions, and he was trying to ask me out." "Well, there was nothing going on between us, either - I was listening to you ask him questions, and him trying to ask you out.  All this mall walking is making me feel emasculated. Can I help it if I felt the need to get a little territorial?" "I'm not your territory." "I know that, but you're sure as hell not his." "Figured out where we're supposed to go yet?" "Yeah, I think so. We just need to backtrack to that Disney store and then make a left, Come on." Mulder rested his hand on the small of her back as he directed Scully back the way they'd came. He'd never let her know, but he was pretty sure he did own at least this one spot. After finally arriving at their intended destination, Mulder and Scully slowly made their way around the sunlit atrium which housed all the different food establishments for this particular wing of the mall. Scully finally settled on a large chicken salad, while Mulder purchased a Philly cheese steak. Making their way outside to the picnic benches, they settled in for lunch. "Mulder, I don't know what else we can do here. We have no proof of any wrongdoing. There's no case to investigate." "How can you say that? People are dropping like flies in this place. That Wentworth is some crazy death jinx fetishist or something..." No sooner had Mulder brought up their only suspect than he sat down across from them at their little picnic bench. "Someone mention my name? Mind if I sit? I feel as if we're practically chums." The man's presence temporarily startled the agents as they sat blinking at him in the bright sunlight. Mulder was the first to recover. "Should we be looking for a place to take cover, Mr. Wentworth?" "Please, call me Alan. I'm sorry, but I don't understand what you mean." "I was referring to your uncanny ability to be nearby when horrible accidents occur. Should we be prepared for something unexpected? A house falling out of the sky - a swarm of killer bees?" Mulder's tone was light, but his eyes betrayed his seriousness. "I'm surprised at you, Agent Mulder. Aren't you a bit old to believe such rubbish?" Alan turned his head to smile at Scully. "Is he always so paranoid, Agent Scully?" "Yes. Yes, he is." "That's a shame. Damned hard way to live a life, it seems to me. It must be hard on you, Agent Scully, traveling all over the place. You said you were from Washington, D.C. do you always have to travel such long distances in your work?" "Yes, we travel a great deal." "Doesn't that make it hard on your family? My constant traveling makes me feel very homesick most of the time. I'd like to find someone and settle down myself. What about you?" Mulder busied himself eating his lunch, trying to pretend he didn't care about the man's current line of questions - all the time wishing he could throw his soft drink in his face. He needn't have worried; Scully was the queen of deflecting personal questions. "I do all right, Mr. Wentworth." "How about you, Agent Mulder? Don't you want to settle down one day?" Oh yeah - now he definitely wanted to hurl his cup at this bastard. Right off the kisser. "I do all right, Alan. I'm content with the company I keep." Mulder felt Scully tap a finger on his knee. "You know, Alan, You must not sell many policies, hanging around the mall so much. Don't you have an office to go to or something?" "I do all right, Agent Mulder." With that he began gathering his food wrappers and plastic tray. "Leaving so soon, Alan? You just sat down." Mulder dunked his fry in some catsup. Not looking at the man as he spoke. Standing up, Wentworth looked towards Scully. "I have several appointments this afternoon; I should get going. You have a good day, Agent Scully. By the way, that's a lovely suit you're wearing." After dumping his food in a nearby trash can he quickly made his way to the interior of the mall. "Too bad. I was hoping he would stay longer," Mulder said in a deadpan voice, turning his head to look at Scully. She was still squinting towards the retreating figure when the explosion happened, the first deafening roar hitting the two of them full force where they sat at their little picnic bench in the sun. Scully heard a scream of shock, not realizing it was the sound of her own voice. The force of the explosion threw her backwards onto the pavement. She felt something slam on top of her, knocking her breathless. =================================================== I did a bit of showing off that day. I couldn't help it; he was bloody begging for it - cocky bastard. Swarm of killer bees -- I could have chinned him in the clock for that. Oh, the day started out just fine. Got my coffee from the pretty girl who works at the Starbucks and made my way to my favorite table to read the home paper -- football scores. Next thing I know, I'm looking up at what had to be one of the most beautiful women I'd seen in a bloody long time. Lovely red hair, beautiful skin, and lips to drive a man to drink. Smashing lass -- oh, did I mention her eyes? My God. A man could do stupid things for eyes that color blue. I confess, I was dumbfounded at first, sat there staring at her like a bloke off the farm, till he walked up behind her. The look on his face told me I should be paying better attention to what she was saying. Come to find out their bobbys. FBI no less. I've never seen inspectors looked like them two before - all dressed up like movie stars or something. Told me they needed to speak with me about deaths in the mall. That piqued my interest somewhat. I figured, bloody hell - why not? Might be a bit of fun, yanking the local blue bottles around a bit. My days were starting to get a bit tedious, anyway. That's when the fun started.  In all my time on this job, never once have I been surprised by a cop.  Oh, I'm not saying they're all stupid or anything - far from it.  It's just that they tend to be a certain type of individual, for the most part.  They like their problems solved as neatly as possible, with as little paperwork as possible. Not these two. It started out all right, I guess. Their standard questions, my standard evasions to their standard questions. All the time, though, I was getting a weird feeling - you know - like I wasn't quite understanding everything that was going on.  Have you ever felt like that - like you're missing something? Well, I don't.  I don't miss things; that's my job. The man, Agent Mulder: He kept staring at me, but not in a normal way. He wasn't trying to intimidate me, like most policemen. It was as if he was studying me, kept watching my hands. Then, next thing I knew, he was cracking sunflower seeds like he was at a baseball game. Now, the woman: she was a more like a regular cop...but still a bit off, if you ask me. She rarely cracked a smile - seemed all businesslike. Couple of times during the "conversation", when he asked me an odd question, I saw her shoot a look at him; other than that, they were a well-oiled machine. One time she went to ask me a question, and before she got three words out of her mouth, that Mulder handed her a piece of paper she ended up needing. How do you suppose he new that she was going to need that paper? That's when I started to get a bit worried. It was as if I was watching some little play but without my own program.  It started to cheese me off. They had nothing on me - no way to bring me to book. As far as they were concerned, I was just a bloke in the wrong place at the wrong time - in the wrong place a lot, to be sure, but still...there was no law against that. To have some fun, I started flirting with the woman - you know, to lighten the mood a bit. It was getting entirely too serious in there for my taste. She took it okay; hell, she never even batted an eyelash at me. Could tell I was getting to Mulder, though. His eyes got a little hard at me. Serves him right - the cocky arse. Anyway, I was telling you I did a bit of showing off. I had orders for a 17 year old boy who's expiration date was pending. He'd finally showed up that afternoon. I decided to try and kill two birds with one stone, if you know what I mean. I wasn't planning on hurting them or anything - just getting their attention, that's all. Shake them up a bit - then just sit back and watch what happened.  Looking back, it may not have been my brightest move. =================================================== "Sir.  Sir, can you hear me?!" Slowly Fox Mulder became aware of sounds around him. He felt uncomfortable; his shoulder was killing him. There was this horrible ringing sound in his head he couldn't quite shake. Oh man, that really hurt - someone should turn that down. "Sir, I need you to try and open your eyes for me. Can you do that?" What did that mean? Of course he could open his eyes - couldn't he? If someone would just turn down that noise, this would be easier. What he needed was some rest; just a little bit of sleep, and everything would be better in the morning.  Yeah, that was definitely a good idea. "This guy's out, Charlie. How's the woman?" Woman? What woman? "Scully!" Mulder's eyes snapped open as he threw himself out of his prone position on the sidewalk outside the mall. "Scully -- where's Scully?!" Frantically he tried rolling over on his side to see if his legs would hold him. "Whoa, buddy!  Hold on; you're not going anywhere." The surprised EMT made a grab for the flailing FBI agent.  "You need to lay back down.  The ladies fine; she's over there being treated. She's just fine." Mulder tried to get into a standing position, but the ringing in his head was making it hard to concentrate. He only made it as far as all fours before he started to feel as if he might throw up and had to quickly get back to a laying down position. He looked at the other EMT, Charlie, as he leaned over his partner.  Her eyes were open, but she had blood all over her shirt and face. "Scully.." Mulder called out to get her attention. Slowly she turned her head and focused on Mulder. She gave a weak smile and reached out her hand to him. Mulder reached out his own hand until he could feel her fingers in his. She gave his hand a squeeze before closing her eyes and losing consciousness. =================================================== ST. MARY'S HOSPITAL BLOOMINGTON, MINNESOTA "Well, Agent Mulder...From the medical files the FBI faxed me, this should be old hat for you. You don't have a concussion, but you did get your bell rung pretty good.  You might feel dizzy every now and then over the next week or so. Try to take it easy and don't exert yourself too much. We're going to keep you overnight for observation; head injuries can be tricky.   Not that any of this is news to you." "Thanks, Doc. How's my partner?" "She's being checked out now...she has some cuts and lacerations from what look like projectiles from a car that blew up in the parking lot next to the picnic area. It could have been much worse  - she lost some blood but nothing too major. We'll be keeping her overnight as well." "When can I see her?" "I'll have a nurse come in and let you know." After a couple of hours, Mulder lost patience and set out to find his partner himself. Absentmindedly, he wondered how many hospital hallways he'd wandered bare-assed down, wheeling an IV stand. Too many. Peeking into each room as he walked down the hallway, he finally reached one with a small redhead tucked in tightly under hospital blankets.  As he quietly stepped up to the side of her bed, he could see she was awake. "Scully?" Scully turned her head from the window to her partner's earnest face. "Took you long enough," she said with a smile. "Well, it's hard to wheel an IV stand and try and keep the gown closed and look into the rooms all at the same time." Mulder smiled back at her as he reached down to kiss her cheek. She had a bandage wrapped around her head, and he could see the small outlines of brown stains beginning to seep through the gauze.  "You get banged up a bit?" "Yes, it appears that way. I don't remember too much about it, to be honest. Do you?" "No - just Wentworth leaving. Next thing I remember is waking up on the sidewalk." A silence descended on the room at the mention of their suspect. Scully was the first to break it. "What happened? Was it a bomb?" "No. While I was waiting in my room to come and see you, I called Eric back at the mall. He says they aren't done at the scene yet, but early indications seem to be a busted gas line, which caused the car to explode..." "An accident." "Uh huh - an accident." "That son-of-a-bitch." Mulder couldn't help but smile at Scully when she swore. He held her hand and leaned down to brush her hair away from her face. "Yeah, that son-of-a-bitch. Scully, get some rest. I'm going to wander back to my room. I'll be back around dinner time; we'll eat together okay?" "Ok." "Now, close your eyes. I have to walk out, and unless you want a free show..." Scully laughed as Mulder tried to back his way out of the room while wheeling the IV stand. "Mulder, it would be the only decent thing that's happened to me all day." "Smooth talker." =================================================== Mulder and Scully checked out of the hospital the next morning, each clutching a bottle of painkillers.  These bottles which would eventually be left to clutter their already overflowing medicine cabinets. "Mulder, if we ever get booted from the Bureau, we could go into the black market selling painkillers." "You have leftovers?" Mulder asked, trying to look shocked as he stuffed the bottle in his inside breast pocket. "Where to first?" "I'd shoot someone for a decent cup of coffee." "Last time I ran that errand, it was the start of a very bad day." Scully smiled as she buckled herself in. "Let's try a coffee shop nowhere near a mall." "Good idea." After coffee, the agents swung by the security offices of The Mall of America for their briefcases and to assure Eric Hall of their recovery. The poor security guard was beside himself with guilt that all of this was somehow his fault. After assuring him that hospital stays were not unusual in their line of work, they were able to pick up the police report from the previous day's explosion. Sure enough, it was ruled an accidental engine malfunction resulting in the death of the male teenaged driver. The local police department had sent some samples to Minneapolis but weren't expecting anything surprising from them. "Have you seen Mr. Wentworth around today, Eric?" Scully asked as she quickly scanned through the police report. "Yeah. He asked me how you two were. Said he'd run back out of the mall after he heard the explosion and saw you two were hurt. He seemed real concerned for the both of you. Maybe I was wrong about him..." "We're going to do a little digging on your Mr. Wentworth today, Eric.   We'll be able to tell you more by tomorrow on whether or not your hunch had any merit." Scully replied as she put the copy of the report in her briefcase with the other paperwork from the case. "Till then, Eric, I wouldn't get too close to the guy, if you know what I mean," Mulder called over his shoulder as he followed Scully out of the   office. =================================================== "Oh, he's clever, isn't he?" Mulder chuckled when he saw the name on the offices Alan Wentworth had given as his place of business. Mulder and Scully sat in their rental car parked a little down the block from the small one-story office building shaded by large oak trees. It sat back a ways from the tree lined street; you might not even notice it if you weren't looking for it, the only indication of its purpose being the small gold letters painted in the bottom corner of the front window,  "Catastrophe Management Services of Minnesota". "It says here he's worked for the company eight years - seven months with this particular division. That would fit our timeframe for the  accidents at the mall. Bureau records indicate the company is a worldwide conglomerate specializing in catastrophic insurance policies. It has headquarters in just about every major city, with smaller offices just about everywhere else." "That big, huh?" "Mulder maybe we're dealing with some sort of disgruntled employee. He mentioned he's lonely and tired of moving from place to place - that he'd like to settle down." "Uh huh." "On the other hand, it could be fraud. We should check to see whether or not any of his victims were covered by Catastrophe Management Services..." "Uh huh." "Mulder, are you listening to me?" "Uh huh." "Mulder...?" "Scully, I'm listening. I'm just not so sure that this guy's working on his own. We're talking a very complex operation here, if that's what it is. And I don't believe that crap about wanting to settle down and have a family, either; he was just trying to score girl points with that..." Mulder smiled at Scully's raised eyebrow. "Not that I've ever tried something like that, but I've heard other men use it before, you know." "Uh huh."  Scully opened the bag at her feet and pulled out a yogurt and a spoon. "It's just that if he did plan and execute these so-called 'accidents', he would have had to mess with everything from the escalators to elevators - even with that chandelier in Bloomingdales..." Mulder paused to think about what he'd just said. "That's a pretty large operation, Mulder." "Yeah, it is, isn't it?  Maybe worldwide." Scully rolled her eyes as she sucked the yogurt off the plastic spoon. "Mulder! Don't even try to go there. You have got to be kidding if you think he works for some kind of Accidents R Us, or something.  Death doesn't work that way; it's not some kind of global corporation. You read too many of The Lone Gunman articles." "Did I say that?" Mulder tried to look innocent as he reached for Scully's yogurt container. It was blueberry, his favorite. He muttered under his breath as he took a bite, "Accidents R Us....very funny." Giving Scully back her container, he continued. "All I'm saying is that killing all of those people and making it look like accidents would be a very large undertaking requiring expertise in several different areas. He'd need help, and he'd need access..." Slowly turning to look at each other, an idea dawned on their faces. "Eric," They said in unison "Scully, you should check to see if he's connected to Wentworth in any way - formerly employed here, maybe - something like that.  I did a cursory background check on him when I got that letter, but I didn't dig very far." "Why would he call us out here if they were working together? What would his motivation be?" "I have no idea." "I'll look into it when we get back to the hotel." Mulder reached into the backseat to get a yellow lined legal pad out of Scully's briefcase. Settling back behind the steering wheel, he began to draw a gallows, followed by a series of dashes underneath.  Scully quickly recognized their usual game to help pass the time when they were forced to be somewhere longer than they would like. It had started years ago; she could no longer remember when. "A." Mulder drew a head on the figure. "E." He filled in two of the dashes. "O." He slowly drew one long line to represent the body. "You're gonna lose... you're gonna lose..." he said in a soft singsong voice. "Don't count on it. R." Mulder filled in two dashes. He was experienced enough to look worried. "S." "Ha!" One arm appeared on the paper. "Mulder, do you really think Eric Hall could be involved in this?" "Are you stalling, Scully?" "No. T." "I'm not sure. it might not be him. But it could easily be another worker in the mall. We should have started a check on that as soon as we got here; I don't know why it didn't occur to me before now." With a delighted grin he quickly drew another arm on the doomed figure. While Scully was trying to figure out her next guess, Alan Wentworth drove up to the building and pulled in behind the one car parked in front of the office. "Duck!" Mulder grabbed her arm and pulled her down below the dashboard with him. "Did he see us?" "I don't think so," she said as she peeked above the dashboard, watching Wentworth as he made his way into the darkened building at the end of the block. Slowly the agents sat up straight, Mulder putting the pad and paper under his seat. "What do you think?" "Let's go."