Gabriel found himself in Greenwich village at one of his favorite cafes on Cornelia Street, drinking a cup of most excellent coffee and reading over his notes from the latest case. He wasn't officially assigned to it, but he was investigating nevertheless.

A couple of street punks had heard muffled screaming from the warehouse and had called the cops. Three deaths in an abandoned warehouse on the waterfront, all shot in the head. The NYPD had chalked them up to a mob hit, even though the third man's arms and hands had been mutilated. Parallel cross-hatching cuts up one arm and down the other. The coroner's report on the first two men showed they'd been dead 48 hours, but the third within an hour of the police arriving. All of them had been tied up with nylon cord, likely brought with them to the scene as it was new and the ends had been neatly cut. The careful lacerations on the third man's hand had already clotted by the time the man had died.

He theorized there were at least two men, maybe three, he'd decided. One man couldn't have taken three men of their size down and tied them up. They had been sitting, all of them, against the wall. Likely the first man had been tortured while the other two watched. This was not torture for torture's sake, though. It was too professional. If it had been, all three would have shown signs. Instead, he believed the perpetrators had been trying to extract information. When it was not forthcoming, they killed them.

Also, the fact that there was only one man that had been tortured showed some sort of personal link. Why was he chosen out of the three, and why had the other two received merciful deaths, by comparison? After coffee, he planned to do more research on the man with the wounds. Yet, he had a feeling he'd hit a brick wall, the same one he always hit.

Soze was a very, very slippery man--if it was him. Who knew? It could be a copycat. It was common in the mob world, unfortunately, as Soze was a boogieman to even the hardest criminal. He wasn't the only one familiar with the techniques used, and only the unsolvable murders, the few and far between, were the ones he could truly believe he could chalk up to Soze. He'd put a lot of men behind bars tracking the man down. If anything, it would be just another case.

He'd not seen the crime scene or the photographs yet, only read the preliminary report the attending detective had written. He had to see the bodies, and that meant a trip to the morgue. And then the people who'd heard the screams--they'd be interesting to try to track down. How many of them hung around the waterfront? He'd go over, ask around, see what people would tell him. It's not as if something like that wouldn't end up spreading by word of mouth. It was only a matter of time.

For the moment though, he read over the files again, making notes and enjoyed his coffee. It wasn't every day he came to Manhattan.

Gabriel has always been early to every meeting he's been to in his life, and this one isn't any different, even if it is dinner with an old friend at an Italian restaurant. He's dressed casually in jeans, a white button up shirt with the collar open, and dark blue sport coat. When Jeff arrives, he's already seated and drinking a glass of wine, studying the menu as if it were the blueprints to a secret hideout.

He hasn't changed much in the last year. A little greyer at the temples and in the beard, and he's finally given up and gotten glasses (although he's still not happy with having to wear them). There is a basket of breadsticks on the table, and he's halfway through one, chewing thoughtfully as he tries to decide between the carbonara and the fettuccine.

Name: Gabriel Aloysius Merlin Grey
DOB: 2/13/1960
Birthplace: Bath, Somerset, England, UK.

Education:
BA in Photography, 1979
BA in Criminal Sciences, 1983

Occupation: Special Agent, Criminal Investigations Division, Federal Bureau of Investigation, United States
Current Field Office: Cincinnati, OH, USA
Clearance level: F9

Spouse: Sheila Marie Larke-Grey, deceased 9/17/1984
Children: Savannah, DOB 4/11/1984. Current location, London, England, UK.

Prior work:
1982-1983, photojournalism/crime scene photography
1984-1985, officer, Cincinnati PD
1986-1988, detective, vice, Cincinnati PD
1989-1991, detective, homicide, Cincinnati PD
1992-present, Special Agent, FBI

Tentative profile:

Name: Gabriel Aloysius Merlin Grey
DOB: 2/13/1960
Birthplace: Bath, Somerset, England, UK.

Education:
BA in Photography, 1972
BA in Criminal Sciences, 1976

Occupation: Special Agent, Criminal Investigations Division, Federal Bureau of Investigation, United States
Current Field Office: Cincinnati, OH, USA
Clearance level: F9

Spouse: Sheila Marie Larke-Grey, deceased 9/17/1984
Children: Savannah, DOB 4/11/1984. Current location, London, England, UK.

Prior work:
1969-1971, photojournalism
1972-1974, crime scene photographer
1976-1979, officer, Cincinnati PD
1980-1986, detective, vice, Cincinnati PD
1987-1991, detective, homicide, Cincinnati PD
1992-present, Special Agent, FBI


tentative backstory:
born in england, moved to the states (cincinnati, oh) with his mother when he was eight years old, after the death of his father. they lived with his grandparents; grandmother was a homemaker and grandfather was a retired policeman. early interests in drawing and photography, but also a fascination with law enforcement--his grandfather regaled him with slightly (or moreso) embellished stories of his days in the cincy police force, hunting down and putting away the bad guys. he also showed off his scars from when he'd nearly been killed in the line of duty. his grandfather was intelligent, kind, yet stubborn to the point where he'd, as his mother had put it, cut off his nose to spite his face. along with a fierce loyalty to friends and family, they were traits Grey had inherited.

attended college (specific tbd) and earned a ba in photography while working under an apprenticeship as a photographer at the local newspaper (specific tbd), covering mostly fluff stories and gaining experience. on completion, he continued his studies and earned another ba, this time in criminal sciences. at this point he was working at a newspaper office (specific tbd) as a serious photojournalist and later a crime scene photographer. his work was noted by the CPD, and he maintained close ties with a few of the policemen and detectives on the force, partly because of his skill and partly because of his grandfather's noteriety.

during his second course of study in college, he met and later married Sheila Marie Larke and settled in cincy to stay close to work. one could say he had the perfect life, as he was sincerely and completely in love with his wife and he also loved his job. sheila was a teacher of english at a local school (specific tbd). during her lunch hour one day in september of 1984, she was abducted and later killed seemingly at random by a mentally unstable man who lived with his mother in Reading. it was later confirmed that he'd raped and killed three other women before he was apprehended by police in 1985.

after her death, he quit his job at the newspaper and lived for the next year and a half drifting from one menial job to another, drinking and aimless. blackouts of several hours at a time were common, but after the longest, three days, he quit drinking entirely and turned his life around. he got himself in shape, applied at choffin police academy in cincy and ended up a beat cop in the cpd. he progressed through the ranks, earning detective status and assignments in vice and then homicide. he put in ridiculously long hours, which did nothing for his attempted and short-lived relationships with women. his job was more important than anything in his life, and he immersed himself in it.

in 1991 he applied for a position with the FBI, went through the rigorous testing, interviewing and physical training, and was offered a position in 1992. he was ultimately assigned to the cincinatti field office, and currently holds a position there, assisting in criminal investigation as a profiler. he irregularly attends AA meetings, as he continues to battle with alcoholism, and he still has not been able to find anyone able to cope with the oddities of his professional life.

profiling is a singular avocation, and to be good at it, one must not only crawl into the minds of the people he is hunting, but also the victims' minds as well. Grey tends to the paranoid, habitually profiling anyone he sees, almost as a mental exercise. he is protective to the point of obsession, and this tends to scare off most people. nearly all of his friends are policemen and agents, those that understand the mindset all too well, and few others.

regardless, he is widely recognized as an intelligent, insightful agent who does not let go of cases easily, and has one of the most successful track records for finding criminals and assisting in their prosecution. he consults for the cpd, due to his past connections. the only thing that keeps him from being considered one of the most admired agents in the fbi is his obsession with criminal mythology. one of the specific mythos is of Keiser Soze, the devil himself. most within law enforcement do not believe in the existence of such an individual, having heard tales that even they, with their years of 'seeing it all' do not believe. they call him the bad guy's boogeyman; the mere mention of his name is enough to give the hardest criminal pause. people say they do not believe, but there are enough that do to keep the myth alive.

Grey's credibility is damaged due to his firm belief that Keiser Soze exists. On several occasions his supervisors have recommended he give up his preoccupation with the 'myth'. For the most part these days, he keeps the interest to himself, but he has not given up. The single-mindedness he displays in his work also translates to his study and his research of the man who doesn't exist. And this interest has not gone unnoticed.

(more to come)