I think we all feel an empty place.
Everybody loved Jennifer--
not just because she was a special person,
but because she was the kind of friend
who was always there for you.
We'll miss you, Jen.
We'll miss your smile.
We'll miss the times we would've spent together.
We'll keep these memories close to our hearts...
...until we meet again in God's kingdom.
Full Privacy Pro VPN: 1.85 USD/mo www.byespies.com
The family has requested a graveside service now.
I've rescheduled the burial till tomorrow afternoon.
We'll keep the body overnight.
Such a beautiful girl.
Hello?
Who's there?
I said, who's there?
Holy God.
Donnie.
What the hell are you doing here this late?
Working.
Working. At this hour?
What is this?
What the hell were you doing?
Get out of here.
You freak!
Get out of here!
And don't come back.
I should report you!
Just go on!
Get out of here!
I got the call from Minneapolis PD
saying they wanted the FBI to come out and take a look.
Anything slightly freakazoid,
that's the drill: call Moe Bocks.
As if I'm tight with all the nutcases in town.
So, I shoot on down here to see what's the what,
and I'll be damned if I'm not knocked on my butt
by what they show me.
22 years, I've never seen anything like it.
I get one look at the corpse,
and I'm on the phone to my pal Andy Schneider
down at the Mutual UFO Network.
You know Andy.
No, I don't.
Well, he knows you.
Why'd you call MUFON?
I wanted to see if there'd been
much UFO activity in the area.
You think this grave was unearthed by aliens,
Agent Bocks?
Well, it has all the telltale signs.
Don't you think?
I mean, according to the literature.
Literature?
You know, the way the hair and nails
have been cut away.
Sort of like they do in cattle mutilations.
Well, I hate to disappoint you, Agent Bocks,
but this doesn't look like the work of aliens to me.
Oh, how can you be sure?
I've seen this kind of thing before
when I worked at Violent Crimes.
Whoever dug this up probably used a backhoe.
If you take a cast of the ground in the area,
you'll probably find fresh new tracks
leading from here to a garage nearby.
You think?
Yeah, he may work here, but it's not likely,
though he's probably worked at a mortuary or a cemetery
at one time or another, probably even been busted,
but you won't find any record of that.
Tends to be bad for business
when those kind of stories get around.
You're saying some human's been doing this.
If you want to call him that.
You okay, Scully?
Yeah. I've read about cases of desecrating the dead before,
but this is the first time I've seen it.
Nothing can prepare you for it.
It's almost unimaginable.
Why do they do it?
Well, some people collect salt and pepper shakers.
Fetishists collect dead things--
fingernails and hair.
No one quite knows why.
Though I've never really understood
salt and pepper shakers myself.
Sometimes you surprise me, Mulder.
Why's that?
How that didn't shock you back there.
I prepared myself for it before we left Washington.
You knew this wasn't UFO-related from the start?
I'd suspected as much, yeah.
It took us three hours to get here.
Our plane doesn't leave until tomorrow night.
If you suspected...
Vikings versus Redskins, Scully.
40-yard line in the Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome.
You and me.
Have you lived in the Twin Cities area long,
Mr. Pfaster?
I grew up here.
I was away for a few years.
Oh. And what kind of work were you in before?
Cosmetology.
Hair and makeup.
Oh. That's interesting.
If you don't mind my saying,
that's a lovely color lipstick you're wearing.
Is that Indian Summer?
Yes.
Yes, it is.
Now, you're applying for the job as the delivery man?
To put myself through school.
I've gone back to school.
Oh.
And what are you studying?
Comparative religions.
Oh.
Are you a religious person yourself?
Yes.
Very.
You know, I probably shouldn't say this,
but Mr. Ficicello feels very strongly
about religious backgrounds.
He prides himself on the honesty of his employees.
Can you put that on the application?
I'll attach a little note.
Thank you.
Long, long pass.
Cris Carter with the catch, and Carter brought down
by Martin Mayhew at the Washington five yard line
for a Viking first down!
Sorry you had to miss your game,
but we found more bodies dug up.
Did you get your forensics report on the first one yet?
He's got to be happy about that...
There was somebody down there in the grave.
Cut the hair with a pair of pinking shears.
Got to wonder about this guy.
Well, at least he wasn't down there
with his Dippity-Doo and his blow dryer.
How many bodies does that make?
Three in the last two days.
What else can you tell me
about the desecration of the corpses?
The hair was cut
from the heads of two bodies.
From the third one,
the fingernails were pulled out
with what looks like
a pair of needle-nosed pliers.
All right, I want you to draft an eyes-only memo
to everyone in this office and to all law enforcement agencies
in the metropolitan area.
Saying what?
That the Twin Cities may have a...
escalating fetishist on their hands.
A what?
An escalating fetishist.
Security should be tightened around city cemeteries.
Mortuaries, funeral homes and hospitals should be notified.
A story should be issued to the press
warning of a possible stalker
in the area.
This isn't New York, Agent Mulder.
People still keep their doors unlocked here.
This is going to scare them.
All right, well, then you can leave out
the more gruesome aspects in your press release.
Why do you want to alarm folks
if this guy only preys on dead people?
Because his compulsion is growing.
He may resort to homicide to procure his corpses.
Once he gets the taste of a warm body,
he's probably going to want more.
Maybe I've been isolated up here
in the Great White North too long.
What do you mean?
People wondered why it took them so long
to catch this kid in Milwaukee.
Thought someone should have noticed
he was killing all those young boys.
Truth is, no one ever believed it could happen.
Right.
Well, if you catch this guy before he kills,
maybe they can go right on believing that.
We don't have the manpower or expertise to move
on this with any speed.
It's going to be hard
to round up anybody on a Saturday.
Could be Monday or Tuesday
before we get our ducks in a row.
...up and over the top!
Touchdown...
We got some work to do here.
I'm going to cancel our flight out.
Scully?
I'll be right there.
All right.
A complete model or psychological profile
of the death fetishist does not exist.
The compulsion is the result
of a complex misplacement of values
and a deviation from cultural norms
and social mores.
He is more likely to be white, male,
and of average to above average intelligence.
Cases of fetishists with IQs over 150
have been documented.
The progression of the pathology
can be traced from the fantasy stage
to the eventual acting out of fetishistic impulses,
including opportunistic homicide.
Agent Mulder believes strongly that the suspect in this case
is escalating towards this action.
Once he begins to murder,
it is the killing that draws attention away
from a deeper motive--
a motive which most people,
including law enforcement professionals,
dare not imagine.
It is somehow easier to believe,
as Agent Bocks does, in aliens and UFOs
than in the kind of cold-blooded, inhuman monster
who could prey on the living to scavenge from the dead.
Hi.
Hi there.
Hello.
Hi.
Are you looking for a date?
Yes.
Why don't you pull up around the corner over there.
Well, actually, I was thinking of a couple of hours.
Oh.
Where do you have in mind?
Don't you have any heat in here?
It's freezing.
The forced air unit is broken.
I'd like to run you a bath.
Is your hair treated?
What?
Do you need a shampoo for chemically treated hair?
You want me to shampoo my hair?
I'll pay extra if that's something out of the ordinary.
Nobody has ever asked me.
Excuse me.
Hello.
Is this Mr. Pfaster?
Yes.
Hi. This is Marilyn at Ficicello Frozen Foods.
Sorry to bother you so late,
but I'm calling to say you've been hired, Mr. Pfaster.
We'd like you to start right away.
Hey, what's going on here?
The water is ice cold.
What kind of sick freak are you?
Oh, my God.
Mr. Pfaster?
Yes. That's wonderful news.
Thank you so much.
Don't you come near me.
I mean it.
Don't you touch me!
Stay away from me!
Keep away from me!
Don't you come near me!
Still waiting for someone to I.D. the body.
Judging from the area,
I'd say she's probably a working girl.
Watch your step.
Oh...
Oh, my God.
Oh, my God. Oh...
Who did this to her?
Who did this?
Was it him?
Looks like it.
Knife wound the length of the torso.
Cut all her hair off, took her fingernails.
This time, he took some fingers, too.
Want to see the body?
Yeah.
I need a minute.
Hey, let him take a look.
Hi.
I'm your new delivery man.
Oh, hi. Come in.
Did they give you Skip's old route?
Yes, I think so.
I've just started with the company.
Skip's been delivering to us for so long,
we almost took it for granted he'd always be around--
since before the kids were born.
Lisa?
This is, uh...
Donnie. Donnie Pfaster.
- He's taking over for Skip. - Oh, hi.
I'm going to go over to Steve's now, okay?
Okay. You have a good time.
Okay. Bye.
Bye.
We have three daughters.
Oh.
Pardon me.
May I use your washroom to wash up my hands?
Oh, sure. There's a washroom just off the service porch.
Oh.
I just wanted to tell you,
if we're ever not home,
we always leave the back door open here.
Oh.
Thank you.
I'll remember that.
Death is a recorded event.
For reasons natural or unnatural,
when a body ceases to function,
the cause of the effect can be clearly reconstructed.
A body has a story to tell.
The time is 11:14 a.m., Monday, November 14.
Deceased is a female in her 20s.
If the victim was strangled,
an examination of the veins in the eyes will reveal this.
If the victim was shot,
entry wounds and gunpowder residue can be used
to reconstruct the events leading to death
and help to establish a possible motive.
Hair and fibers, slivers of glass,
plastic, even insect casings
can serve to recreate the circumstances
under which death occurred.
It may be an irony only understood
by those of us who conduct these examinations,
that death, like life itself, is a drama
with a beginning, middle and end.
It is my opinion, having conducted this examination,
that the victim died a wrongful death for the express purpose
of extracting her hair and fingernails.
The time of death cannot be accurately determined
due to what I believe must have been immersion
in a cold environment, most likely water.
For the record, it is also my opinion that,
outside of child homicide,
which may be more tragic and heinous,
this is one of the most angry
and dehumanizing murders imaginable.
Mm-mm. I just don't know.
Look at each man carefully.
He's none of those guys.
He was ordinary.
He didn't look like no freak.
You remember what kind of car
he was driving, what color it was?
I think it was white.
Okay, you can go.
Just leave a number and address where you can be reached.
You going to catch this guy?
We'll catch him.
Might be a good week
to take that paid vacation the boss owes you.
Yeah.
Right.
If this guy looks regular-like
and he doesn't have a record,
he's going to be near impossible to find.
Not until he kills again
or until we can determine what's driving him.
I read your profile.
Sounds like a guy who can't make it with women,
which would explain the hooker.
No, no, the hooker was just convenient.
He's after trophies.
His victim was
a young, attractive woman.
The corpses he dug up were all young women.
So what's fueling his need?
What's important
about the hair and fingernails to him?
It's almost as if it's not enough that they're dead,
but he's also got to defile them.
I mean, there's a deeper psychosis at work here.
It's an unfathomable hatred of women,
uh, probably going back to his mother.
I'd say she's pretty fried at him, too.
I think the next thing we have to do is call
all the psychiatric facilities in the area and ask them
if they have any records of patients
with similar pathologies.
This kind of a monster isn't made overnight.
He's been developing his fetish for years.
The necessity of the story, the myth,
in a culture is almost universal.
We think of myths
as things that entertain or instruct,
but their deeper purpose
is often to explain or make fanciful
desires, wishes or behavior
that society would otherwise deem unacceptable.
Because they are conveyed
in a wrapping of untruth-- the story--
these thoughts become harmless fiction.
Take, for example, the stories
we recite to our children:
Snow White, Alice in Wonderland.
The subtextual themes when the queen orders
"off with her head"
or the prince awakens Sleeping Beauty with a kiss
are what Freud would describe as death wish imaginings.
Excuse me.
I'm in your mythology class.
Uh-huh.
My name's Donnie.
I sit a couple of rows over.
Maybe you've seen me.
Uh, I don't know. I...
I know.
You sit up front.
I just...
See, I...
I was going to my car,
and I saw you and...
Did he ask us to read chapters ten and 11
or 11 and 12?
Oh. Uh, I...
I-I think it was, uh...
God.
Uh, it was chapters ten and 11.
Oh. Thanks.
Yeah.
I have to go now.
Don't go.
Let go of the door.
Help!
Someone!
Help!
Hello.
Scully, it's me.
They've arrested somebody they think may be our guy.
I'll get dressed.
He's got a history of assault.
911 call came in from a security officer
who saw it happen.
She hurt him pretty bad.
Yeah, he's definitely our guy.
Who cut him?
A working girl.
They're all carrying knives since what happened.
I'm Agent Mulder.
Have you been read your rights?
I'm just a straight businessman.
I picked up this chick, and I brought her home.
I paid her the money,
and she hauls out this knife.
Now, what am I supposed to do?
I smacked her a couple of times--
self-defense, self-defense.
Now... see?
Nothing under the fingernails.
He's not our guy.
I thought we had him.
We're back to square one.
Mulder, can I have a minute with you?
I'll wait out front.
I think I might better drive this investigation
if I could focus on the evidence.
What are you suggesting?
That I take the body back to Washington.
I could run it through the fingerprint lab there.
You know, those guys, they can pull...
Scully, if you're having trouble with this case,
I want you to tell me.
I'm not having trouble, Mulder.
I'd understand.
I mean, it's not exactly easy to stomach.
I'm fine, really.
I just think we're a long way from catching this guy.
If we could get a print,
we'd have something to focus on,
but right now, we're at a standstill.
I think it's a good idea.
I just don't want you to think
you have to hide anything from me.
I've seen agents with 20 years' field experience
fall apart on cases like this.
I have.
I'm fine.
I can handle it.
Hey.
What's your name?
You talking to me?
Yeah.
Were those FBI agents?
Yeah.
What were they asking you?
They thought I was some freak who's been digging up corpses.
Man, I'm in enough trouble already.
What were their names?
Who?
The younger agents.
Oh.
Uh, I don't remember his name.
She was Scully.
Like that baseball announcer.
Let's go, Mr. Pfaster.
Go where?
Lady's dropped the charges against you.
They're letting you out as soon as
you talk to a psychiatric social worker.
At first glance, there's not much to work with.
Satin doesn't hold a print real well.
There may be a latent somewhere in these bloodstains.
I suspect the killer wore gloves.
Well, the body was shipped on my flight,
so it should be here within the hour.
We'll take a look.
How long you in town for, Agent Scully?
I have a flight back to Minneapolis booked for tonight,
but, um, I might cancel.
I've put all other work aside.
Thanks.
You think that you find a way
to deal with these things.
In med school, you develop a clinical detachment to death.
In your FBI training,
you are confronted with cases--
the most violent and terrible cases.
You think you can look into the face of pure evil...
and then you find yourself paralyzed by it.
Are you aware that you've been talking
about yourself in the second person?
No.
Was I?
Do you know why?
Um...
probably as another way of trying to detach myself from it.
You're a very strong person.
you've probably always felt
you can handle any problem by yourself.
But you feel vulnerable now.
Do you know why that is?
No.
Is it your partner?
Is there a problem with trust?
No.
I trust him as much as anyone.
I trust him with my life.
Can you talk to him about the way you're feeling?
No.
I don't want him to know how much this is bothering me.
Um...
I don't want him to feel like he has to protect me.
I know you lost your father last year,
and, um...
I read in your file
that you were very ill recently,
that your life was threatened.
These exposures can leave you
extremely vulnerable.
I know these things.
I'm-I'm conscious of them.
I...
I know that the world is full of predators,
just as it has always been.
And I know that it is my job to protect people from them.
And I have counted on that fact
to give me faith in my ability to do what I do.
I want that faith back.
I need it back.
Okay, that's great.
Oh, there you are.
I've been looking for you.
I had a meeting.
I got good news.
- What did you find? - Well, as I suspected,
there was nothing on the sheets,
but we pulled something nice off the body.
The guy cut her fingers off, right?
But not all of them.
On her right hand, he left a thumb.
I pulled this off the nail polish.
There must have been a struggle before he killed her,
before he put the gloves on.
I got to call Agent Mulder.
- Oh, somebody called for you. - Who?
Said he was an agent working out of Minneapolis.
I told him you were out, you had a flight booked back tonight.
Was it Agent Mulder?
I didn't recognize the name.
Did you tell him about the print?
Hadn't found it yet.
Agent Busch, look at this.
Mulder.
Hi. It's me.
We got a print.
Scully got a print.
Fantastic.
I'm going to modem it out to you immediately
to see if you can run a match.
Are you staying on there, Scully?
No, I'm coming back tonight.
Look, I know this is a pretty horrific case, but if...
I'm okay with it, Mulder.
Anyway, you could use my help.
Always.
You or Agent Bocks didn't call here
looking for me earlier, did you?
Did you call Scully?
No.
Hmm.
Okay, well, I'll see you when I get there.
All right.
Go!
FBI!
I'll take the bedroom!
Move it, move it, move it!
Go!
Team one, what is your status?
We're clear back here!
Clear!
Bill.
I think it's human hair.
The suspect does not appear to be at home.
Let's put out an APB
on Donald Addie Pfaster, age 28.
Oh, take a look at this.
She should be here.
She was on the plane, landed three hours ago.
We found Agent Scully's car.
Yeah, pull it in over here.
She was forced off the road.
It looks like a white car.
Get one of your men and get a sample of this paint
and get it on a plane to Washington.
If we hurry and we're lucky,
we can get a make and model of the car by morning.
We're going to find her.
Nothing registered to Donald Pfaster?
Right.
Right. Got it.
The paint is called "Ivory Bone."
It's a two-step enamel
used by three makers of late model, mid-size cars.
They estimate there may be about 60,000 cars
that fit that description in the metropolitan area.
Nothing?
No.
No one saw her leave the rental agency?
There was no attendant in the area?
Sorry, Mulder, that's all we got.
You know, people videotape
police beatings on darkened streets.
They manage to spot Elvis
in three cities across America every day,
but no one saw a pretty woman being forced off the road
in her rental car.
He could have taken her anyplace.
How we going to find her?
Well, um...
we got to start at the beginning.
You know, as nasty as it might sound,
we got to try and get inside this guy's head.
Where would he go?
Anywhere but his mother's, right?
Why do you say that?
Being he's so pissed off at her, from what your profile says.
Do we know where his mother lives?
I don't know.
Let's find out.
The mother lives in Boca Raton, Florida.
Huh. Correction.
She used to live there.
She died a year ago.
Did she have a car registered to her?
Late model white sedan.
He inherited the car.
Maybe Boca Raton was a winter house.
Does she have a residence here in Minneapolis?
No...
Get the hell away from me!
Don't be afraid.
Is your hair normal or dry?
Where are you going?
There's no way out, girly girl.
I know this house, girly girl.
There's nowhere to hide.
Move! Move!
Federal agent!
Hands in the air! Hands in the air!
Stay there, Scully.
Can we get some paramedics here now!
I'm okay.
Just help me get my wrists undone.
We're all clear here!
How did you find me?
His mother used to own the house,
willed it to his sisters.
A patrolman saw his car out back.
Get him out of here.
Sure you don't want to sit down, Scully,
and let somebody take a look at you?
I'm fine, Mulder.
It's all right.
The conquest of fear
lies in the moment of its acceptance,
in understanding what scares us most
is that which is most familiar, most commonplace.
That the boy next door, Donnie Pfaster,
the unremarkable younger brother of four older sisters,
extraordinary only in his ordinariness,
could grow up to be the devil in a button-down shirt.
It's been said that the fear of the unknown
is an irrational response
to the excesses of the imagination,
but our fear of the everyday-- of the lurking stranger
and the sound of footfalls on the stairs--
the fear of violent death
and the primitive impulse to survive
are as frightening as any X File,
as real as the acceptance that it could happen to you.
I made this!
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