COLD CASE

Broken Trust

By J. B. Tilton (a.k.a. NoAzMale) and Teri Thibeault (a.k.a. Tessalynne)

Emails:

evilgidget_

Rating: K

Disclaimer: "Cold Case" and all related characters and events are the property of Jerry Bruckheimer and the CBS Corporation, except for those characters specifically created for this story. This is a work of fan fiction and no infringement of copyright is intended.

(Authors' note: This story takes place between season 1 episodes "Fly Away" and "Sherry Darlin'".)

When a gun is turned into the police department it's identified as the murder weapon in a cold case dating back 1983. The team reopens the case in the hopes of tracking down the murderer.

PROLOGUE

March 11, 1983, 2:37 p.m.

Bruce Campbell sat looking at the report Dr. Hagnell has just given him. He didn't understand most of it but the results were undeniable. A full blown case of AIDS.

"You're sure there hasn't been any mistake?" Campbell asked.

"I'm afraid not," said Dr. Hagnell. "I had the tests redone just to make sure. There's no mistake. You have AIDS."

"What are my options?"

"Right now, there aren't many. This disease is just too new, Bruce. We have some treatments that are promising but right now I'm afraid there isn't much we can do about it. I can prescribe some medications that should help with the symptoms. And there are some treatments that might help prolong your life. That's the best we can do right now."

"How long?"

Hagnell had heard that question a thousand times. It was always the first questions his patients asked. How long did they have to live?

"Six months, maybe a year," he replied after a moment. "With the treatment we might be able to extend that some. And we can make you as comfortable as possible."

"Six months," Campbell replied with resignation. "That's not very long."

"Bruce, they're doing research into this right now. It's only a matter of time before they come up with better treatments. Medical science is always coming up with new treatments and even cures. Look at cancer. Fifteen, even ten years ago people died from some forms of cancer that can be effectively treated today."

"Ten years," Campbell repeated. "You just told me I had six months. I don't have ten years, Doc. I've read about AIDS in the paper. I know what it does. Even if they do come up with some kind of treatment it will most likely be too late to help me."

"You can't give up hope, Bruce. As I said, there are treatments we can try. I might even be able to get you into an experimental program. Any hope is better than no hope."

"What can I expect? As the disease progresses?"

"That's difficult to say. It can be different with each patient. I'll have to monitor you closely for any change in your condition. Any change and we'll treat it immediately."

"My insurance won't pay for this. I've disallowed many policies because of AIDS. It's just not covered by most insurance policies."

"Well, we'll keep this under wraps as long as possible. At this point the law doesn't require me to report any cases of AIDS I come across. I can treat any symptoms you have as separate ailments and bill your insurance company that way. That should help some."

"Thanks, Doc. I appreciate everything you've done."

"Make an appointment with my secretary for your next examination. I'll want you to come in for regular checkups so we can keep a handle on this. And if I learn of anything that might help I'll let you know immediately. You never know. It's possible they could come up with a cure next week or next month. And it's also possible you could go into remission. And as I said they're doing research all the time. That research could very possibly yield some very productive results."

"Maybe. I'll need to check my schedule before I make my next appointment. I'll check my schedule and call your office in a day or two."

"Just don't wait too long. The sooner we get started on treatment the better your chances."

Campbell got left the doctor's office and got into his car. As he drove home he began to think about the plans he would have to make. Six months wasn't very long. He had a lot to do and not much time to do it in.

March 24, 1983, 8:42 p.m.

The patrolman walked over to the coroner who was currently examining a body lying in the middle of a park. Several other officers were in the park as well looking for any evidence that might be around.

"The detectives will be here soon," said the patrolman. "They'll want a full report when they get here. What have you got for me?"

"Well," replied the coroner, "I can tell you TID is less than an hour ago. Rigor hasn't set in yet and the body temp hasn't dropped yet so my guess is he died about 8:00 o'clock: maybe a little earlier. COD looks like a single gunshot to the right temple. I don't see an exit wound so the slug must still be in his skull."

"Any other marks on the body?"

"None that I can see here. I'll be able to tell you more once I get him on the table but I have to say this looks like as straightforward murder. There are powder burns around the entry wound so whoever did this put the muzzle of the gun against his head and pulled the trigger."

"You're sure it was murder?" the patrolman asked.

"Did you find a weapon near the body?"

"No, nothing. Just the body."

"Well there you go, patrolman. If this had been suicide the gun would have dropped on the ground next to the body."

"What about accidental?"

"Someone accidentally put a gun to this man's head and then accidentally pulled the trigger? I don't think so. No, whoever did this did it deliberately. Maybe a drug buy gone bad or a simple mugging. Can't tell from the body. All I can tell you right now is that this man was deliberately executed. I'll have more after the autopsy."

"Thanks, Doc. I'll let the detectives when they get here."

"What did he say?" asked another patrolman as the first patrolman walked toward him writing notes into his notebook.

"He said the guy was murdered. Someone put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger."

"We haven't found any gun."

"I know. We'll turn it over to the detectives when they get here. It's there problem now."

As they looked up they noticed an unmarked car pull to the curb of the park. Two men dressed in suits got out and looked around, and then began to walk toward the two patrolmen. The first patrolman opened his notebook to give the detectives a thorough report on the situation.

ONE

December 4, 2003

As Stillman came into the squad room he was apparently engrossed in some papers he was holding in his hand. Lilly and Scotty were talking at their desks and looked up as Stillman passed the desks.

"Morning, boss," said Lilly, smiling her smile at him.

"Hmm," Stillman barely grunted as he headed for his office.

Lilly looked at Scotty and then over at Nick. Nick was currently at the filing cabinet filing some papers and he had a look of surprise on his face as he glanced up toward Stillman's office. Lilly looked over at Will who was filling out a report.

"I guess he got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," said Scotty.

"Maybe," said Will. He stood up and began to walk toward Stillman's office. "Looks like he has something on his mind."

"Must be something serious," said Nick. "I've never seen him like that before."

Will knocked on the open door to Stillman's office and Stillman looked up from his desk and the papers he was looking at. Will walked in and sat down in a chair opposite Stillman's desk.

"You were a little abrupt with Lilly, weren't you?" Will asked.

"What?" Stillman questioned absentmindedly. "Oh, yeah, I guess I was. Guess I should go apologize to her."

"John, we've known each other a long time. I can tell when something is bothering you. It's not like you to practically ignore people, especially people you work with."

"I know, Will. I'm sorry. I just have something on my mind, that's all."

"Care to share? Maybe it's something I can help with."

"Not this time, old friend," said Stillman, handing a paper to Will. "Thaddeus Fischer."

"Fischer?" questioned Will, looking at the paper the lieutenant had handed him. "That killer you helped put away in 1978?"

"One and the same. I got the notification this morning when I came in. You can read it right there for yourself. He's been granted parole."

"Parole? I thought he was sent up for life?"

"Twenty-five to life. Apparently he got parole his first time up."

"Didn't he threaten to kill everyone who helped send him to prison?"

"Yeah, he did. He personally threatened the judge, the district attorney, and me. I was the one who provided the most damning testimony against him. The jury said afterwards it was based on my testimony that they convicted him."

"Well, no wonder you're preoccupied. That's enough to rattle everyone. But it has been 25 years, John. People change especially after that many years."

"Maybe," said Stillman. "But he was pretty angry during and after the trial. He swore if it took him the rest of his life he'd get us. You know I'm not one to run scared, Will. But Fischer was not like any criminal I ever arrested. He showed absolutely no guilt or remorse during the trial or after. The bailiffs had to drag him out of the court after his conviction."

"It doesn't say when he's getting released," said Will, looking the paper over.

"I made a couple of phone calls. They said it would be a couple of days before the paperwork is finished and then he'd be released. If he comes here looking for me with you and the others here someone could get hurt. Or worse."

"It's a building full of cops, John. I don't think even Fischer is stupid enough to try anything here. But as a precaution I'll let the officer at the front desk know what's going on and I'll make sure they have a picture of Fischer. Don't worry, John. If Fischer comes here looking for trouble we'll be sure to stop him before he can do anything."

"Thanks, Will. I appreciate it. They're going to call me when he's actually released. I think we should also make sure that the DA and judge on that case has some police protection. In case he tries to make good on his threat to them."

"I'll take care of it, John. In the mean time just take it easy. Fischer isn't out yet. And you'll know when he is. You've got some good people out here. They'll make sure that he doesn't try anything."

"Thanks again, Will. Well, I suppose I should get back to work. Want to get some lunch later?"

"Sure thing."

Will left the office and went back out to the squad room. Stillman picked up a file on his desk and went to work on the paperwork that always seemed to be piling up on his desk.

Nearly an hour later Lilly came into his office. Stillman looked up from the paperwork he was working on. Lilly wasn't alone. She had a uniformed officer with her.

"Oh, Lilly," said Stillman, self-consciously. "About earlier. . . ."

"No need to explain, boss," said Lilly. "Will explained it all to us. Can't say I blame you much. I'd probably be preoccupied if I had someone gunning for me, too."

"What have you got?" Stillman asked, trying to change the subject.

"This is Officer Porter. He works in the property office. He's brought us something interesting."

"Officer Porter."

"Lieutenant. I work in weapons disposal. A few days ago we had a pistol turned into us. A young woman in her late 20s said she found it when she was going through her mother's things. She didn't want it around and wasn't sure what to do with it so she turned it in to us."

"I see," said Stillman. "Go on."

"Well, as you are aware, we always check the weapons to make sure they're legitimate and such. We run the serial number, ballistics check, that sort of thing. When I ran this one something interesting popped up. I'd heard around that you were running cold cases so I thought I should bring it to your attention."

"This gun have a connection to a cold case?" Stillman asked.

"Bruce Campbell," said Lilly, handing a sheet of paper to Stillman. "When Officer Porter told me about the case I ran it through the computer. Mr. Campbell was found murdered in Fairmont Park in 1983. The doer was never identified and the case went cold real fast. According to the ballistics report, this is the same gun that killed Campbell."

"You have the name of the woman who turned the gun in?" Stillman asked.

"Of course," said Porter, handing Stillman another piece of paper. "Standard procedure. There's another thing, Lieutenant. While we were running the tests on the gun we found something else. Maybe I should have gone to Internal Affairs with it but I really wasn't sure what to do."

"What is it, officer?"

"Well, the pistol itself was relatively clean. We only found two sets of prints on it. Presumably one belonged to the woman who turned it in. The other set of prints belonged to the officer she turned it into. The bullets in the gun were a different matter. We ran the prints and that's what came up."

Stillman looked at the report. According to the report the fingerprints on the bullets inside the gun belonged to Leonard Blessant. And records indicated that Blessant was a sergeant with the Philadelphia Police Department.

"Are you saying that a sergeant with the Philly PD was the doer?" Stillman asked.

"I don't know, sir," said Porter. "All I know is that his prints were on the bullets that were in the gun. Like I said, maybe I should have gone to Internal Affairs. But I'd had hate to jam up another cop on some unfounded evidence."

"You did the right thing, Officer Porter," said Stillman. "There could be any number of reasons why Sergeant Blessant's prints were on the bullets. We'll look into it. I appreciate you bringing this to our attention."

"Thank you, sir," said Porter. "Can you let me know what comes of it? I'd like to know that I made the right decision."

"We will," said Stillman. "We'll need all the information you have to conduct our investigation."

"He's all ready provided us with everything he has," said Lilly. "Nick is running it through the computer now. And Scotty has all ready gone down to the archives to see what's down there."

"Okay," said Stillman. "Let me know what you find out. We'll see if there's anywhere to go with this thing."

Lilly just smiled as she and Officer Porter left Stillman's office.