Nameless

Author's Notes: Co-written with I.Adler. Sequel to the SVU episode Name, however knowledge of that episode is not necessary to follow the story. Read and review, please!! Thanks!

"'Ey, Joey, hand me the sledgehammer, will ya?" The burly man held out a fat palm for the tool.

A muscular man, identical only in his construction worker's hard hat, passed over then sledgehammer. "There ya go, Johnny. Ya better get on it, Fletcher's already pissed we're behind schedule."

"He can be pissed all he wants." Johnny began to crack at the thin sheetrock-and-plaster wall in the cellar of New York City's newest controversial politician, Clarence Fletcher. "I'm votin' for the other guy!"

A few hard swings by bulky arms and the wall started to crumble. When the men saw what was behind it, the sledgehammer clanged to the concrete floor.

"Holy crap, Johnny, call the cops or somethin'!"

Johnny fumbled for his cell phone and neither man looked away from the skeletal remains of at least two human beings that were crammed into the space between the actual cellar wall and where the faux wall had been .

Mike Logan got out of the passenger side of the burgundy police sedan that had just pulled up to the Chelsea brownstone of one Clarence Fletcher.

"Oh, joy, we beat the media," he said wryly.

Megan Wheeler slammed her door shut on the driver's side. "Lucky us."

Mike sniffed the air and cracked his chewing gum. "All it takes is one dumbass with a police scanner who's seen too much CSI and scenes like this are crawling with the press."

Wheeler rolled her eyes and followed him up the steps of the house which was marked with yellow crime scene tape.

She nodded at the tape as Logan pushed the door open. "It's only a matter of time before it gets out. It's not like people don't know that this is where Clarence "Inflammatory Remarks Are My Favorite Kind of Sound Bite" Fletcher lives."

The interior of the house was a mess, not from the CSU techs who were milling about, but from all the renovations in progress. The owner, Fletcher himself, had not yet arrived.

"He was at a fundraiser," the maid informed them, "Outside of the city." .

"Greeeat," Logan said. "Which way to the cellar?"

The maid pointed them in the direction; Logan headed for it without another word. Wheeler followed, glancing around as she did.

As Logan made his way down the hallway, he was cut off by a Crime Scene Unit technician who came through the hall from the kitchen, interrupting his stride. The dark-haired woman held a handful of evidence bags and didn't seem to notice or care that she had walked right in his way.

"Excuse you," he muttered, stepping back.

Millie Vizcarrondo stopped, ponytail swishing as she did. "Excuse yourself," she said, brows raised defensively. It had been a long day and now it would be an even longer night spent rounding up the skeletons in some politician's closet...or cellar, as it were. She was not in the mood.

Great, just great. Must be one of Rodgers' protégés, Logan thought.

"Detectives coming through, if you don't mind," he said.

Millie smiled sweetly. "I do mind, actually. I need to go collect evidence."

Behind Logan, Wheeler tried not to look amused.

He rolled his eyes, holding up his hands in a surrendering motion. "Wheeler, you hear that? We need to wait for the techs to finish. Call Ross. It's gonna be awhile."

Wheeler rolled her eyes again.

Millie, on the other hand, just squinted. "I didn't say you couldn't come down to the cellar. I only meant that your badge doesn't give you an excuse to be an ass. Walking behind me is not gonna kill you." With that, she turned around and started again for the cellar.

With a shrug and and a look back at his partner, Mike followed Vizcarrondo to the basement, noting as he walked that it wasn't killing him. In fact, now that she mentioned the word 'ass' it was a fairly pleasant trip.

Behind him, Wheeler nudged him in the ribs. "Ogle much?" she whispered.

"Who, me? Hey, I was invited. I'm just being polite," he grinned, whispering back. "Besides, pleasure before business."

Millie, lost in thought, stewing it seemed, over Logan's behavior or something deeper, reached the cellar and headed straight toward the medical examiner.

Dr. Elizabeth Rodgers was kneeling down in the middle of the concrete chunks and bones.

"I've got the bags, Doc," Millie said, waving the wad of plastic evidence bags. "Are we really bagging every bone?"

"And then some," Rodgers smirked.

Mike walked over. "Rodgers." He surveyed the grim scene. "I've heard of skeletons in the closet, but this is a bit much. What've we got?"

The M.E. glanced up at him. "It's hard to tell so far. We've got enough bones for at least two bodies." She sighed. "We have a clavicle that appears to be an adult female. And a femur that's definitely male."

"Two at least, then. Now, Fletcher's family's owned this place for how long?"

Wheeler frowned, looking at the space between the torn down wall and the real wall, slightly sickened by the smallness. "The Fletcher family has owned this brownstone for generations."

Rodgers shook her head. "But these bones...I'm guessing they're not all that ancient. We'll have to run some tests, but I'm guessing...twenty-five, thirty years these have been here."

Logan snapped his gum. "I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that the Fletchers may have something to do with this."

As they spoke, Vizcarrondo knelt down beside Rodgers. "You said one adult male and one adult female?"

Rodgers nodded. "That's right."

The tech reached a gloved hand out and sifted through the debris and bones. As she brought a particularly small bone up to see it more clearly, she frowned.

Seeing her expression, Logan bent to see what she was examining.

"I don't know if this was a male or a female...but this...this is definitely a small child's...hand." Quieter, she added, "Or at least what's left of it."

"Ah," putting out a gloved hand, Logan took the remains from her, holding them up to the light.

Rodgers glanced around the area. "That's three then, at the least. CSU is checking out the walls in here, and around the house…in the attic, as well. Making sure there aren't any more secret hiding spots."

With a tight-lipped grimace, Logan passed the tiny hand to Dr. Rodgers, then turned to Wheeler. "Sick."

Rodgers passed the hand back to Vizcarrondo. "Bag that, will you?"

Millie took it gingerly, looking at it oddly, like she had seen it, or something like it, before. She placed it carefully in an evidence bag, frowning in thought as she did so.

Exchanging a glance with his partner, Mike watched the tech, wondering why she was being so particular about this case.

Before another word could be spoken or thought passed, the cellar door flung open and a broad-shouldered man with thinning hair stormed in, righteous indignation written all over his face. Clarence Fletcher in the flesh.

Rodgers smirked. "Now the fun begins."