“Of course. Father and son were both convinced that some terrible calamity is going to wipe mankind off the face of the planet. Mick also suffers from the usual paranoid delusions of persecution, most of it brought about by his father’s death and his own incarceration. Claims that a government conspiracy has kept him locked up all these years. In Mick Gabriel’s mind, he’s the ultimate victim, an innocent man attempting to save the world, caught up in the immoral ambitions of a self-centered politician.”

“I’m sorry, you lost me on that last bit.”

Foletta leafs through the file, removing a series of Polaroids from a manila envelope. “This is the man he attacked. Take a good look at the picture, Intern. Make sure you don’t let your defenses down.”

It is a close-up of a man’s face, brutally battered. The right eye socket is covered in blood.

“Mick tore the microphone from the podium and beat the victim senseless with it. Poor man ended up losing his eye. I think you’ll recognize the victim’s name. Pierre Borgia.”

“Borgia? You’re kidding? The Secretary of State?”

“This was nearly eleven years ago, before Borgia was appointed UN representative. He was running for senator at the time. Some say the attack probably helped get him elected. Before the Borgia political machine pushed him into politics, Pierre was apparently quite the scholar. He and Julius Gabriel were in the same doctoral program at Cambridge. Believe it or not, the two of them actually worked together as colleagues after graduation, exploring ancient ruins for a good five or six years before having a major fallout. Borgia’s family finally convinced him to return to the States and enter politics, but the bad blood never went away.”

“Turns out it was Borgia who actually introduced Julius as the keynote speaker. Pierre probably said a few things he shouldn’t have said, which helped incite the crowd. Julius Gabriel had a bad heart. After he dropped dead backstage, Mick retaliated. Took six cops to pull him off. It’s all in the file.”

“Sounds more like an isolated emotional outburst, brought on by—”

“That kind of rage takes years to build up, Intern. Michael Gabriel was a volcano, waiting to erupt. Here we have an only child, raised by two prominent archaeologists in some of the most desolate areas of the world. He never attended school or had the opportunity to socialize with other children, all of which contributed to an extreme case of antisocial-personality disorder. Hell, Mick has probably never gone out on a date. Everything he ever learned was taught to him by his only companions, his parents, at least one of which was certifiable.”

Foletta hands her the file.

“What happened to his mother?”