Law and Order: Criminal Intent
Ballad of Emily Sullivan
AnneMarie Donahue
Apartment of Robert Goren
Robert Goren stood over the stove making egg-in-a-basket. He was humming slightly. In the background Emily was putting books into her bag. She had an early morning Shakespeare class.
"Breakfast?" Robert looked over his shoulder at Emily. She was struggling to put on a shoe and balancing two heavy bags on the same shoulder. Robert knew she would never stay unless tempted by food. He scooped the toast onto the spatula and held it out to her.
"Yeah." She dropped the two bags to the floor and grabbed the toast and egg from his spatula. They sat down at his table to eat before they both ran out.
"I can drive you?" Robert offered.
Emily only smiled, "We're going in opposite directions, Robert. I'll take the T."
Robert looked down at his napkin and crumpled it in his hand. Emily noticed.
"Robert," Emily started, "you have to trust me. I'm not going to die, or be kidnapped, or get even abducted by aliens."
"I worry," Robert didn't look up, but raised his eyebrows, which was a sure sign that he was thinking.
"That's normal, but you can't obsess." Emily could feel that she wasn't making any headway with him, and changed the subject. "I'm thinking of taking the summer semester off."
Robert perked up immediately. "Really?" They got up from the table. Robert picked up his keys and they headed out the door.
"I was thinking maybe we could go somewhere?" Emily tried not to sound too heavy with her hints.
"That would be great. I have a few weeks vacation saved, we could go upstate, there's a great lake system there that I think you would really like and…" Robert noticed Emily's expression change and stopped.
"Or we could go to Boston." Emily said, "my family is dying to meet you. Both my brothers have threatened to run a background check on you."
"Yeah," Robert's lips tightened, they had reached the lobby of the building. Robert and Emily stepped out into the warming Spring weather. "Ross told me that your dad called him."
"Yeah, mom told me." Emily kicked a loose pebble at her feet avoiding his gaze. She shrugged, and then looked up at him, "he's a cop."
They were parting way, Robert turning left, Emily going right. He leaned in and kissed her goodbye, and they parted.
One Police Plaza
There had been a string of murders on Long Island that were beginning to form a pattern. It was the first proper serial killer that year. A few days prior to the murder a photo would arrive in a large mailing envelop addressed to Captain Ross. There was no note and no DNA on the envelope. The photo was of the victim, who would go missing that day and turn up dead within three.
Goren walked in. Eames up as Eames placed the latest picture on the board. She looked over at him and smiled. She thought he had really begun looking like his old self. A little older, and much quieter, but the happy-quirkiness was beginning to return.
"You missed the excitement." She sighed to him.
"Another photo?" Goren held out his hand, he knew the answer to the question. The photo was of another extremely well dressed woman in her mid to late 60s. She was walking across the street, talking on her cell phone. Goren squinted to look at the background of the photo. "Does it look familiar?"
"Yes, but I looked at the other photos, it's not the same area." Eames walked over to the board. "This was taken in front of the New York Public Library," Eames pointed to the first picture in the line up. It was of another well-dressed woman, the first victim. "The victim, Hellends, was a volunteer there. But the other two, there's no connection to the background." She placed her hand on the second picture, "Evelyn Marcus, retired cardiac specialist, her picture is in front of MOMA, which according to friends she never visited. And our latest," she moved her hand to the third photo, "Jennifer Perla, widowed and living off her late husband's legacy, was in walking past a Tower Records, and I don't think she shopped there."
Goren gritted his teeth a little, trying to link the three. "There's something similar, it's killing me." He tacked the forth picture up. This was taken in a residential area, probably not her own.
"Before you ask, we sent two black and whites over to the neighborhood, no one could identify her."
Goren stood back; he covered his hand with his mouth and stared at the pictures intensely. He was certain there was something similar in each one. "Things that would usually attract a serial killer just aren't there. They all have different body types, different hair, different demeanors."
Eames silently agreed with him. Ross came into the room and turned the TV on. "You to have to see this."
"No Tina, at this time the authorities have denied to make any address to the press, but we can say that this is Mrs. Jillian White, owner of Pullman Press." A pretty reporter spoke directly into the camera. In the background the police were trying to cover the grotesque figure that the press was trying just as hard capture. "It's a gruesome sight, Tina. Mrs. White has suffered burns all over her body and was tied here. Right now we can't say when she died, but the authorities have confirmed that she could not have survived these injuries."
Eames dry-heaved and turned away. Goren starred directly at the video. Jillian had been burnt, he would have to wait for an autopsy, but it looked as though she had been burnt alive.
The image changed to the talking heads in the studio. "Veronica, do the police believe if this murder is connected to the previous killings of the last two months?"
The image switched back to the young woman in Central Park, the police had bagged the body and were trying to contain the crime scene as best as possible. "Tina, the police are refusing to comment at this time, but the consensus in the Park is that our killer has struck again."
"She sounds like she's in a bad movie." Eames quipped. She had already started to put on her coat. "Robert, let's go down to the crime scene."
Goren was still standing there, thinking over what he had just seen, still unable to put the pieces together in his head. He looked over at her and nodded.
Central Park
Two CSU officers were still at the scene. "Just like the other times, we have nothing." He took Goren and Eames over to the lamppost, "this is where the body was found. Neither the ground, nor the ropes were torched, she wasn't burned here."
Goren took the plastic bag the CSU held out and examined it, "you'll let us know if you find any trace evidence."
"Always do." The CSU members walked off. Two uniform police officers took down the tape.
"So, he killed her. Then put her on display here, why?" Goren looked down at Eames.
"He's speeding up. We got the picture this morning, and he delivered the body the same day. Either the mail's getting slow or he's speeding up."
"Well, maybe he has to act fast." Goren started thinking aloud. "Maybe this is building up to something that he thought he would have a longer time to complete? Now he's in a rush to the finish line."
"God, I hope so." Goren turned on her. Eames smiled and explained, "When they rush, they get sloppy. Leave behind clues and bring us closer to them."
"Or maybe the next one is his last?"
"Sickening thought." Eames started walking back to the car. "A disciplined serial killer."
Office of the Medical Examiner
Goren could hardly wait to get into that room again. He was chewing on his thumb nail relentlessly. Eames wanted to swat his hand out of his mouth, but since he had finally found a girlfriend she wanted to drop the mothering act and return to their partnership.
"Time of death was approximately 3:15 this morning. Cause of death is a little harder to determine." She pulled back the sheet from the corpse. Eames grimaced a little and forced herself to look at it. The ME continued, "She was forced to drink gasoline, which would have killed her, except she was then lit on fire."
"Oh, God." Eames had to let that one escape. This was too much.
"It's hard to determine what else was done because of skin damage, we do have some rope burns on her wrists, and probably when she was abducted. She was dead when she was tied to the post this morning." The ME flipped open a chart on the table, "Tox screen came up positive for chloroform, nothing else."
Eames noticed her hands, "What's wrong with her hand?" One hand had been burnt more than the other, and the nails looked as though they had melted off.
The ME pulled up the hand, the skin gave a crinkling noise as some of it flaked off the arm, "this is what all those fancy manicure's get, melted nails."
Goren took the other hand from the table, he examined the undamaged nails, "can we see the other bodies?"
The ME just shrugged and pulled out the drawers containing the other three victims. Goren looked at all of their left hands; on their pinkies were an identical design. It was a small lotus flower with a kanji symbol watermarked underneath it.
Eames had followed him to the tables, she looked up, having spotted the same similarities, "what is that Chinese?"
"It's Thai," Goren said, his jaw clenched.
One Police Plaza
Goren and Eames were talking to Captain Ross in the conference room. They had finally found something that tied all the deaths together, but it didn't bring them any closer.
"I went back over the interviews," Goren said, holding the notebook open, "none of our victims seemed the types that got manicures. A librarian, a publishing exec, a surgeon… the only one that does fit is Jennifer Perla, but I called her friends and none of them recall her going with them."
Eames caught herself instinctively looking at her nails; she put her hands down at her side and inwardly chided herself for her lack of focus. She wanted to wake her self up, "We've been over this. There's nothing to tie their lives together."
"Maybe there's similarity in their deaths." Goren looked at the wall of victims. "There's something odd about their deaths."
"The level of violence is escalating." Eames looked at him, she knew where he was going. "We start with a poisoning, then strangulation, followed by drowning and now arson."
"I have to make a phone call." Goren jogged back to his desk.
New York City College
Office of Emily Sullivan, PhD
"Hey Robert, it's nice to hear from you." Emily spoke into the phone. She was finally in her office for Robert to catch her.
"Emily, is there a book where the murderer kills his victims by strangulation, drowning, poisoning and arson?" Robert's voice rang over the phone.
"I love these romantic conversations we have." Emily made a weird face and smiled to her grad assistant who was putting her attendance into the computer. "Strangulation, drowning, poisoning and arson. All at the same time?"
"No," Robert wanted to just leave and check on her.
Emily strummed her fingers on her desk, she looked down and saw a report one of her students handed in. "Taming of the Shrew."
"What?" Robert asked.
"No, not that play, but yeah, all of those modes of death, strangulation from Othello, poisoning from Romeo and Juliet, drowning from Hamlet, but arson… that's probably MacBeth…technically only one is a murder, it's three suicides and a murder, but your killer is Shakespeare."
Robert smiled over to the group watching him in the conference room. "I love you. Are you going to be there much longer?"
"I won't be done until five."
"Will you wait until I pick you up, the person who's committing these crimes, she's a criminal that has a way of popping back up in my life. I'm just worried, please let me pick you up."
Emily exhaled into the phone, "alright. Don't work late, this building is creepy late at night."
"Okay, bye."
"Bye." Emily cradled the phone and look over at her graduate assistant logging her attendance in, "overly protective boyfriend."
One Police Plaza
Conference Room
Falacci watched Goren talk on the phone and walked into the room to see wahat the progress on the serial murders was. She was carrying a chip for getting the assignment, and while she wouldn't show it to Alex, she took it out on Bobby at every opportunity.
Eames was focused on a fingernail design tacked to the board. "What's that?" Falacci said, pointing the picture.
"A design that all of our victims had painted on their nails."
Falacci looked at it closely, "the shop my sister goes to offers this design, but the kanji is different."
"Yeah, Goren said it was Thai." Eames wasn't paying too much attention, she hadn't warmed to Falacci yet, and Eames was a little annoyed that she was constantly giving Bobby shit.
"Yeah, I know. The girl at the shop told me, it means death, or ill-fated, something like that. She took a long slug from her coffee mug."
Falacci had Eames' full attention after that. "How many other stores use Thai in their designs?"
Falacci shrugged, "not many, the majority of those shops are Vietnamese. I only know of one shop that offers Thai designs, but it's uptown, I don't go."
Robert came back into the room, "It's Nicole." He walked directly to Eames, "I know it's a stretch, but I know I'm right on this."
Eames looked up at him, she wasn't happy with this. "Falacci's got a lead on the design, we should follow that. We can go to the shop, and see if there are any leads to our killer there."
Goren was frustrated, he took a step back and almost tripped over Falacci, who shot him her best "fuck you" look. He went to the board and pointed at the first victim, "I just got off the phone with Emily there was something strange about the murders, our first victim was poisoned, just like Juliet, our second is strangled, just like Desdemona in Othello; the third is drowned, Ophelia. And our last victim is burned."
"Wait, no one was set on first in any of the plays, my husband's an English teacher." Falacci said.
Ross turned to Eames and whispered, "who's Emily?" Eames just shook her head, not the time and place. It was a bad call by Bobby.
"No, but Lady MacBeth committed suicide by swallowing a hot coal."
"Bobby, this is a little above Nicole's pay-grade." Eames hated to side against him, but this was a stretch.
Goren backed away, he was mad, but he was calming himself down. "Fine, let's go get our nails done."
Amsterdam Spa
"Yes, we offer this design. One of our new girls actually brought it in. I've seen it copied at a few of the smaller shops, but we have the original here." A leggy blonde woman held the picture of the nail design in front of her.
"We'll need to talk to her," Eames said, taking the photo back. The blonde women went into the back and returned with another girl, dark hair; she looked less flashy than the rest of the girls.
"Nikki, these two cops want to talk to you." The blonde girl left. Goren directed everyone to the corner of the shop.
Eames let Goren take the lead, if it would make him behave like a human. "Where did you get the idea for this design?" Eames was shocked; normally Goren liked to tap-dance for a little while before showing them his hand.
"I learned it from a costumer. She had drawn it on a piece of paper and wanted to know if I could do it." She handed the photo back to Goren and looked as though she expected the conversation to end.
Goren looked at Eames then back to Nikki, "could you describe her?"
"Yeah, about my high, blonde, but I think it was a bottle job, medium build. Maybe thirties, but good-looking, trendy clothes for her age…"
"Did she have an accent?" Goren was growing impatient with her vapid description.
"Yeah," Nikki shrugged, "she was a Brit, I think."
Goren bit his bottom lip and looked at Eames. She shook her head, it still just didn't feel right to her. Goren was convinced, "do you still have the drawing?"
"Yeah, hold on." Nikki walked to her desk and picked up a card-stock drawing of the nail design, returned and handed it to Goren. "Here you go."
Goren looked down at it, it was precisely the design. He showed it to Eames, almost with a triumphant smirk, "recognize the initials?"
"NW." Eames sighed and looked up at him, "she even autographed it."
"How many of these designs have you done recently?" Goren turned back to Nikki.
She started to shake her head and think, "this week..."
"No, in the past few months." Goren prompted.
"Oh." She tucked her cheek into her mouth, "uhm, maybe 8. The flower is popular, but most people don't want the symbol."
"Could you come with us to look at some photos. We need you to identify the woman who gave you this design."
"Sure," she said slowly, "I have to grab my bag." She walked into the back room to pick up her purse. Once behind the curtain Nikki checked to make sure no one was watching her. She took out her cell phone and quickly sent a text message, it read, "NOW!"
Goren closed the door behind Nikki as she sat in the backseat of Eames' SUV. Goren climbed into the passenger seat and pulled out his cell phone. Immediately he dialed Emily's number. She picked up after one ring.
"Em, it's me. I won't make it by five, but listen. It's very important that you stay at the office."
"What? No!" Emily yelled into the phone, so loud that Eames heard it and laughed. Goren shot Eames a hard look.
"Please, I've told you about Nicole Wallace. I think she's in the area and may try to hurt me by hurting you. I can send a squad car to pick you up." Robert was hoping that Emily would just once agree with him. Eames looked in the rearview mirror and thought that Nikki looked nervous just then.
"That is ridiculous." Inside Emily's office the overhead light was not enough. She was buried in a basement, which meant no natural light after lunch. Her grad assistant was packing up his bag getting ready to leave, when he mouthed, 'you okay?' to her. Emily covered the receiver of the phone and said, 'overly protective boyfriend.'
"I heard that." Robert said in a flat annoyed voice.
The grad assistant laughed, he could hear Robert's voice over the phone. "I can walk you home, if he's worried."
Emily looked at him for a few minutes then nodded her head. "Robert, I'll make a deal with you. Connie, my graduate assistant just offered to walk me back to your apartment. Deal?"
Robert exhaled, "yeah. Call me the minute you get home."
"Okay." She felt a little giddy when he called it home.
"Oh, and thank her for me."
"Ah, sure." Emily laughed and hung up, "he thinks you a woman."
"Connie's a deceptive name."
Emily turned to leave, Connie followed her out of the office. She locked the door behind her. "I appreciate this, Connie, you're a good kid."
"Thanks professor." Connie fumbled with something in his bag. Emily walked a few steps ahead of him. Connie took out a bottle of chloroform from his book bag and began shaking it onto a rag. Two pretty women entered the hallway. They spotted Connie and started walking towards them.
Emily kept talking, but her voice lowered and she spoke slower. "I like books, they tell you everything you want to know about people. Most people hide who they really, some hide because they want forget their past. And some hide because their past is their nature, and you can't escape your nature. Frankenstein couldn't, I guess none of us can. I can spot someone who's trying to hide a past, and someone who's just trying to break a clean start." Emily stopped, she didn't turn around. "Which one are you, Connie?"
The two girls had stopped about five feet from where Emily had stopped. They were watching Connie and Emily. Emily kept her eyes on them.
Connie stopped, wet rag in his hand, ready to pounce. "What, professor?"
"Is it in your nature, or do you want to make a clean start?" She wouldn't turn around.
Connie paused for a moment. The girls stood perfectly still, their faces were blank and emotionless. "I'm gonna make a clean start." Emily's body relaxed as Connie said that. She closed her eyes and exhaled, she turned around to say something, but he covered her mouth with the damp rag. The two girls grabbed her arms and Emily tried to struggle free, she uttered a muffled shriek and then was out.
One Police Plaza
"That's her, she gave me the design. She said her name was Natalie Watson." Nikki pointed at the picture of Nicole Wallace on the table in front of her, then sat back in her chair but kept her arms on the desk. Her bracelet kept banging against the table.
Outside of the room Eames had put out an APB on Nicole Wallace. Flyers with Nicole's photo were going out on the streets with police officers on the hunt for her.
Goren looked at the bracelet; there were three little X's on it, then a Buddha. He pointed at it, "What are the X's for?"
She stopped and looked at her wrist, "oh, I'm straight-edge. No drinking, no smoking, no drugs, no promiscuous sex."
Goren took her hand in his and began to fumble with this bracelet. "Does he recommend such an extreme idea?" He turned the little cast of Siddhartha Gautama in his fingers.
Nikki smiled and seemed to become a little more intimate with him. "Buddha preaches that we have to sacrifice in our lives to achieve a better level of understanding. He says that we will never attain nirvana if we don't deny ourselves everything in this life."
Goren smiled at her, "really, he said all that?"
She nodded her head.
"It must be hard to adhere to a lifestyle like that, being a beautician, and living in New York." Goren released her hand and sat back, "Where did you get this philosophy?"
She just smiled at him.
"Because I got to tell you, he didn't say any of that crap you just spouted off. Someone's been feeding you a line of bullshit and your just gulping it down. Who is he?"
She smiled at him, her eyes narrowing.
"Where is he Nikki?"
She only smiled at him but kept her mouth shut. Eames was looking in at them from her desk. She noticed the change in Goren's body language and became a little afraid of what was going on in there. She started to walk over to the room when Goren stood up and grabbed the girl by her shoulders. Eames barged into the room, "What's going on?"
"Where is he?" Goren yelled at Nikki.
"Where's your girlfriend?" She spat back at him.
Goren froze, the blood drained from his face. Eames came up to his side, she pulled his hands off the girl and waved in Logan, who took the girl into interrogation for holding.
"Bobby, what the hell is going on?" Eames asked.
Goren looked at her, "it's not Nicole. He had me chasing my ghosts just as a distraction. It's Connie."
Goren's cell phone rang from his side. He didn't take his eyes off Eames, he didn't want to answer it. She took the cell phone from his clip, it rang again. Alex offered it to him.
Robert took the phone with a shaking hand. He flipped it open, the caller id was Emily, but that didn't give him any comfort. He accepted the call and put the phone to his ear.
"Hello?" Robert asked in a hollow voice.
"Robert?" Emily's voice was on the other end.
Robert jumped, "Emily, where are you?"
"I don't know, it's dark. I can't see anything." Her voice was muffled, as though she were trying to whisper, "oh, God. I think he's coming."
There was a fight on the phone. Then a new voice came on.
"Hello detective, remember me?" Connie's voice came through the line. "You tried to break my disciples, now I wonder how long it will take for me to break yours?"
"Connie, don't do this." Robert spoke with force into the phone. He was not going to cower to this punk, "you're mad at me, not her."
"That's right, I'm mad. Do you know what my favorite Shakespeare play was this semester, Professor Sullivan?" Connie called out to Emily who was faintly coming to at his feet. "Lavinia." He gave her a swift kick in the stomach and hung up.
To be continued.