This is part of a longer story that I'm currently working on. Just thought I'd throw this first part out there to see if I should continue. So let me know what you think guys! I'm really apprehensive about this, I can never tell if anything is actually okay or completely pants! You judge!
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"Roll up, roll up dear colleagues, it was yet another eventful night." Detective John Munch walked purposefully into the squad room and headed to the evidence board. He fixed a photograph of a middle-aged white male to the evidence board to the right of two similar photographs. They each looked like every other guy their age that walked the street except that their pale skin, dull eyes and GSW gave away the fact that they were all dead. "Victim number three has just landed on Warner's table with the family jewels looking more liked spoiled meat that anything else."
"You have such a way with words Munch, who's the vic and what's the word on cause of death?" asked Elliot.
"Victim is as-yet unidentified - no wallet, no finger print match through AFIS. Warner says the M.O. is the same as the other two; crotch shot incapacitates them and a single shot to the middle of the forehead. She says its close range from the burn marks on the skin. He's been dead roughly five hours. Looks like our tenuous link between two homicides just got upgraded to a serial. And you guys said I was just paranoid."
"If he's only been dead for five hours then chances are that even if he has a wife and kids they ain't gonna miss his dead ass for a few more hours. I'll check each new missing person's report that matches our criteria. Any distinguishing marks? Tattoos or scars?" asked Fin
Munch flipped through the few scrawled notes he had made while Melinda Warner had briefed him. "Brown hair, brown eyes. Just over six foot, hundred and ninety pounds. Aged roughly forty to forty five years old. Wedding ring was still on his finger. No tatts but we have one scar along the left thigh; three inches long with a slight arch in it. That enough until Warner posts her official report?" Fin nodded slightly and made his way to the computer to begin trawling through the masses of missing person reports.
"What else have we got? Crime scene, forensics, witnesses?" asked Elliot, rubbing his tired eyes slowly. It was barely ten and it had already been a long day.
"No witnesses as of yet. Uniforms are canvassing but I'm not too optimistic. It was too early or very late depending on your perspective. Forensic guys are still there but they are having the same luck as they did at the first two crime scenes, which is to say none at all. Our perp knows what they are doing. The body was discovered in Central Park by an early morning jogger in some bushes. Vic had already been dead a few hours by then."
"We get anything from the jogger?" asked Olivia.
"Nope. The poor guy was a little shook up. Can't say I'd like to go out for my morning run and find some guy with his manhood blown off. There was no one else around. He saw a leg poking out of the bushes, thought it was some drunk passed out and went to make sure he was okay. Got a full view of Captain Castrated here for his troubles. Jogger's wife and doorman both confirm he left thirty minutes before the 911 call came in so he checks out." Munch finished, flipped his notepad closed and placed it back into his pocket.
"The bodies of Philip Richardson and Todd Davis were both found in relative proximity to their homes. Actually they were both in parks nearest to their home addresses." added Olivia as she quickly glanced over the reports of the other victims. "If we follow that pattern then this guy lives near Central Park. Maybe this guy has some money."
"Maybe. We've all been in this game long enough to know that people with money are missed a hell of a lot sooner than the rest of us." Elliots's statement left the other Detectives pondering the truth they all knew to be in those words. "Fin's got missing person's covered. What can we do until we get word from either forensics or the uniforms?"
Cragen chose that opportunity to lean out of his office and remind his Detectives that they each had plenty of paperwork to be doing while they waited for their phones to ring. With a collective groan Munch and Stabler slouched into their respective chairs, silently cursing Fin for grabbing the better end of the deal while Olivia refilled her coffee. Caffeine was essential to focus on paperwork this early in the morning. As she returned to her desk, the familiar click of heels reverberated from the hall. The sound was quickly followed by the ADA whose feet were making it.
Alex Cabot breezed into the squad room looking as awake and alert as ever - a facet that none of the SVU Detectives had yet to master despite many years of practice. She headed straight for Olivia's desk with a perturbed look on her face. Olivia looked up from her chair and blankly stared into the ADA's expectant eyes until a wave of recognition finally washed over her.
"I was meant to be in your office half an hour ago wasn't I?" She received a curt nod in reply. "I'm sorry. Our two possibly-linked murders became three. Looks like we've got a serial on our hands. I must have lost track of time."
Alex relented her steely stare and perched on the side of the desk. "I'll let it pass this time Detective but only because I think we've got your testimony perfected. I don't even know why this guy is bothering to plead not guilty. We have the testimony of three victims, four witnesses and video footage. He's not even attempting an insanity plea. This case is a waste of tax payer's money and a foregone conclusion." Olivia released a breath as the ADA's rant seemed to take her thoughts away from her forgetful colleague. "In the future I won't be so forgiving Detective."
"Understood and appreciated Counsellor."
"Anything I can do with this new case? I've had to come down here anyway; I might as well be of some use." She swept up the fresh coffee and took a small sip. Her trepidation lessened upon tasting that it was fresh. She took another mouthful before returning it to the Detective.
"Not unless you have suddenly gained some kind of Patricia Arquette style clairvoyance and can identify the third victim. We are at a standstill and stuck doing paperwork until we can get an ID."
Olivia pointed to the board behind Alex with a look of exasperation.
"While I hope you understand the importance of completing your paperwork correctly and in a timely fashion, I will attempt to channel my inner medium for you."
Alex's smirk gave Olivia the impression that she would be stuck to both her desk and her paperwork for a while. Alex stood slowly to inspect the board while Olivia returned to the form she had been completing. She was halfway through the page before she realized that Alex was still staring intently at the board. She pushed herself up and walked up behind the ADA.
"Alex?"
She snapped out of her haze and stared at the board, refusing to make eye contact with the Detective behind her. "Wallace" she mumbled out, quickly glancing around the room. The other Detectives remained thankfully oblivious to her. Olivia grabbed her forearm and led her to the spare seat beside her own. The Detective leant forward in her chair to get as much privacy as someone could get in the squad room.
"Explain" the Detective said simply.
"His name is Wallace. He's a big shot on the stock market, made his first million by the time he hit thirty. Not that he needed it - family money. Married with a daughter." Alex cleared her throat and the steely gaze returned to her face, the momentary lapse in her professional façade pushed away with only Olivia as witness that it had ever occurred at all.
"You sure?"
"Crescent-shaped scar on the left thigh." Alex glanced up long enough to see the look of recognition float across the Detective's face.
"Okay Arquette. Wallace you said? What's the first name?" Her fingers hovered above the keyboard of her computer.
"That's his first name." Olivia's fingers skimmed across the keyboard rapidly from years of practice. Her fingers stilled over the keys.
"Surname? How'd you know about the scar anyway?"
"The surname is Cabot and I know about the scar, Detective, because I'm the one that put it there." Olivia's fingers remained suspended over the keypad, unable to move as she looked up into the unwavering eyes of the woman in front of her.
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