A/N: As ever, they belong to Dick Wolf...
James Deakins studied the trim man with the salt-and-pepper crewcut who sat ramrod straight in the chair in front of his desk, dressed crisply in a green Army dress uniform. Major Hugo Cressmoor turned his hat over in hands as he spoke. "Your chief of detectives sent me down here to talk to you, Captain. Yesterday, my daughter was physically assaulted in Riverside Park. She is in the intensive care unit at NYU Medical Center. I approached your chief for two reasons. First of all, we are friends and I knew I could count on his support, and second, I want the best detectives on this case. I do not want the bastard who did this to Kelly to get away. He told me you have a pair of detectives who boast the highest solve rate in the department. They are the detectives I seek."
Deakins sighed. "I assume the local precinct has the case right now?"
"Yes. They have compiled a list of witnesses, including my daughter's nanny, who was with her at the time of the attack and was also injured."
Deakins choked on his coffee, unfortunate enough to have been taking a drink when the major said the word 'nanny.' "Her nanny?"
"Yes. My daughter is five, captain."
Another deep sigh and Deakins went to the door of his office. "Goren, Eames, get in here."
He waited for the two detectives to enter the office and close the door. Eames stood near his desk, her eyes passing over the Army officer, while her partner hung back, observing. Deakins said, "Major, these are the two detectives you were told about: Alexandra Eames and Robert Goren." Turning his eyes to the two detectives, he said, "This is Major Hugo Cressmoor. His daughter was assaulted in Riverside Park yesterday and I am giving the case to the two of you." Both detectives regarded him with quiet reserve; they knew there was more. "First of all, this case comes to us, and more specifically to the two of you, with the recommendation of the Major's friend, our chief of detectives. Second, the Major's daughter is only five years old and she is in the intensive care unit at NYU Medical Center as a result of the attack."
That last bit of information got a subtle reaction from each detective. Goren stiffened, his face darkened into a frown. Eames clenched her jaw and her body tensed. Quietly, she said, "Do we have any leads?"
"A list of witnesses compiled by the local precinct, including the nanny, who was with the little girl when she was attacked."
Eames looked at the major. "Where is your daughter's nanny now?"
"At NYU Medical Center. She was also injured in the attack and she's still in the hospital."
From behind the major, Goren asked, "The nanny was with your daughter? So she witnessed the attack?"
"I would assume so. I didn't ask her."
Goren raised his eyebrows. "You didn't ask?"
Cressmoor turned in his chair to eye the detective. "No, I didn't. That is your job, detective. I am concerned with her recovery and my daughter's. I leave the police work to the police. And I fully expect you to do the job your reputation implies and find this bastard." He rose from his seat and turned to Deakins. "Thank you very much, Captain Deakins. Please keep me advised of your progress. I want to know when you catch him."
The major left the office. Eames looked at her partner. "Nice job of pissing him off."
Goren shrugged. "If she were my daughter, I would want to know. He says he wants to get this guy..."
Deakins cut in. "He also said it's your job to do the police work, not his. Now go and do the police work. And don't cause me any headaches with this guy, Goren."
As they headed back toward their desks, Eames said, "Let's get our list of witnesses and see what we have."
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Eames rubbed her forehead and looked toward Goren. She was sitting on his living room floor, near the coffee table, with papers spread around her. A plate of Chinese take-out was sitting on the table in front of her. "A nice spring Sunday so the nanny takes the little girl for a walk in the park. Somebody attacks them, but no one comes forward to admit they saw it. So we have to track down--" She looked at the list in front of her and sighed softly.
"Twenty-three witnesses," her partner filled in.
She looked back at him. He was laying on the couch, arm across his eyes, one foot on the couch, knee bent, the other flat on the floor. His plate was by hers on the table, untouched. She sighed in frustration. "Tell me this: how do twenty-three people witness the assault of a little girl and her nanny in the park and do nothing about it? And why only twenty-three witnesses? A beautiful Sunday afternoon--Riverside Park would have been full of people."
He sat up and grabbed a a stack of papers from the coffee table, his half of the papers they'd gotten from the two detectives in the local precinct, who had been more than happy to turn the case over to them. Major Cressmoor, they informed the team from Major Case, was a pain in the ass. "The assault took place in an area that was hidden from view. The witnesses were not witness to the assault. The local detectives believe they saw the suspect either just before or just after the attack. These were people who came forward to say they were in the vicinty at the time. It's up to us to pull it all together and find out who hurt this little girl."
"Great. Twenty-three witnesses who didn't witness anything. This should be fun." She took a bite of her egg roll. "You should eat."
Ignoring her suggestion, he asked, "Um, the nanny...is she on the witness list?"
She scanned the list. "No. She's listed seperately. Her name is Gloria Harrison. They hadn't gotten around to talking to her yet, but it was on their 'to do' list."
"We should go to see her tomorrow, first thing. See what she remembers. We, uh, we should also see the little girl."
"There's no point in visiting Kelly yet. She's still in a coma."
He looked at the papers in his hand. "I...I think we should stop by and see her."
"Why?"
"I just think we should."
"To show we're interested?"
"We are interested, Eames."
"We are interested in solving the crime."
"So we have no interest in the little girl who was the victim of the crime?"
"I never said that, Bobby."
"So we'll stop by to see her in the morning."
She sighed. "Okay, fine. We'll stop by. Now, about the rest of these witnesses..."
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The steady beeping and the rasp of the respirator unsettled her, not because of what they were, but because of where they were: the pediatric intensive care unit at NYU Medical Center. She watched from the doorway as her partner approached the bedside. Slowly, she stepped into the room, as far as the foot of the bed. Head injuries, broken ribs, fractured clavicle, broken leg...that guy really beat the crap out of this child. That was inexcusable and unforgivable.
He stood in silence, watching the child. He noticed the IV lines, the monitor leads, the respirator tubing. But past that, he noticed the little girl. Long blonde hair, full cheeks, round face...like an angel. He clenched and unclenched his fist, over and over, watching the still face of the little girl who should be playing with her friends in her kindergarten class, not laying here in a hospital bed, fighting for her life. He reached out a hand, touched a cherubic cheek, then turned suddenly and strode from the room with purpose.
Eames swore and took off after him. She had to trot to catch up with him; she hated that. In retrospect, she had known this wasn't a good idea. Had it been better to see the child before they talked to the nanny? That remained to be seen.
"Detectives!"
He stopped in his tracks at the booming voice, vestiges of his military training, she assumed when she ran into his broad back. She hissed a swear at him as he muttered an apology and they turned to face the major, who approached them with a cup of coffee in his hand. "Have you found anything?" he asked, addressing Eames because he was still annoyed with Goren.
"We've just started on the case, Major," she said.
"So why are you here and not out there looking?"
Before she could answer, Goren said, "It might be a good idea to know what we're looking for, Major."
The major's eyes narrowed at him. Great, Eames thought. This was not a dispute she wanted to be caught in the middle of. She jumped in as she discretely brought her heel down on her partner's instep. He grunted softly but caught her message and kept silent. "We are here to talk to Gloria," she said. "But we stopped in to see how Kelly was doing first."
Cressmoor frowned. "I'll take care of my daughter. You two do your job."
"We will," Eames answered. She didn't have to look at Goren to sense his growing anger. "Come on, Goren," she muttered as she headed past him back in the direction of the elevators.
Neither said a word as they stepped into the elevator. She hazarded a glance at her partner; he was very angry. "Sorry about that, Bobby, but I'm not having you get into a pissing match with him. I will not be caught in the middle of some testosterone-laced clash of egos here."
"Eames, you know me better."
"I know what I see, partner, and you and that man do not like each other. I'm not overly fond of his attitude myself, but I don't seem to rub him the wrong way like you do. And remember...he's a friend of the Chief of D's. You get into it with him and Deakins will have your head on a platter, and mine with it for letting it happen. So behave yourself."
He clenched his jaw. "I will," he grumbled tensely. Then he turned away and got lost in his thoughts. Wonderful...she mused. She hoped the nanny would be able to tell them something...anything... The sooner they had this case solved and were rid of Major Cressmoor, the better she would like it.
The doors opened and he was off. She hurried after him. "Goren!" He stopped suddenly, turning toward her with a questioning look. She caught up to him and hissed quietly, "This is not a race and I am not running to keep up with you. Slow the hell down."
"Oh, uh, sorry, Eames."
He bent slightly at the waist and allowed her to go first down the hall toward the nurses' station. She gave him an annoyed glare that warned him not to be an ass and he grinned at her, falling into step behind her when she continued down the hall. One way or another, she could always defuse his anger.
Eames stopped before the unit secretary, who looked up. "May I help you?"
She held up her badge. "We need to talk to a patient of yours: Gloria Harrison."
She nodded, as though she had been expecting them; she probably was. "She's in room 841."
"Thank you."
Gloria Harrison was a young woman, not yet twenty-five. She was attractive, even with the dark bruises that covered her face. The right side of her mouth and jaw were swollen and her left arm was in a cast. An IV line ran into the back of her right hand. She watched the two detectives enter the room. "Hi, Gloria," Eames said kindly. "I'm Detective Eames. This is my partner Detective Goren. We're investigating the assault."
"The major told me someone would be coming to talk to me. He's being very...kind to me."
She spoke to them both, but she kept her eyes on him. Eames rolled her eyes. "Can you tell us anything about the attack or your attacker?"
Gloria sighed. "I can tell you that he hurt us."
Silently, Eames counted to ten. Before she got there, Goren spoke up. "Who did he grab first, you or Kelly?"
"He grabbed us both. He twisted my arm and hit me in the head, then he began hitting her. When I regained my senses, I tried to pull him off her and he began hitting me in the face and he wouldn't stop. That's all I remember."
"Did you get a look at him?"
"Not a good one. He was big, but not like you."
Eames took over again. "What color was his hair?"
"Dark."
"Did you see his face?"
"Not well. He had a moustache and a beard...and glasses."
"Any idea what race he was?"
"White, I think."
"And you didn't recognize him?"
"Should I have?"
"Did you?"
"No, I don't think so."
Eames sighed. "What was he wearing?"
"Dark sweats, and sneakers, I think. There was a logo on the shirt..."
She frowned, trying to remember. Her eyes kept glancing up at Goren, who didn't notice. Eames knew he was having trouble getting his mind off Kelly. Lightly, she kicked his shin and he shifted his eyes toward her. She rolled her eyes toward the girl, and he looked at her. She smiled and he sighed softly. "Do you remember the logo?" he asked.
"No. I don't."
Sensing there was nothing else she was going to get from this girl, other than an offer for a date with her partner, Eames set her card on the girl's tray table. "Thank you for your time, Gloria. We're going to send a police sketch artist up here to work with you this afternoon. Just try to remember everything you can. If we have any more questions, we'll be in touch. If you think of anything, give us a call."
"Thank you."
Again, she spoke to both but kept her eyes on him. He followed Eames from the room. She looked up at him with a smirk. "Looks like you have an admirer."
"Give me a break, Eames."
She laughed and headed down the hall toward the elevators.
