Presidential Misconduct
"I can take it. The tougher it gets, the cooler I get." ~Richard Nixon
"Aw man, we're on Halloween night again. That sucks. I hate dealing with the Halloween wackos."
At Fin's not-quite whine, Munch tilted his head a bit and gave a glance to his calendar.
"Next Wednesday night. Could be worse."
"No, it couldn't. Just means shit'll start on Friday night and keep up through Wednesday."
"That's the reason I love you, Fin. You are an endless bubbling fountain of optimism."
Passing by, Olivia couldn't resist a snark.
"Next to you, Munch? All of us are fountains of optimism."
"Et tu, Liv?"
Cragen walked up and caught only the last comment.
"You guys can eat later. We have a case."
Why Fin and Olivia laughed while Munch smirked was beyond Cragen. On slight reflection, he decided that he didn't want to know and tossed down the folder.
"Second sexual assault in as many nights. Three guys teaming up together - all wearing masks."
Munch picked up the folder and flipped it open.
"Our perps are wearing masks of Nixon, Clinton and W? Talk about adding insult to injury."
"Any DNA evidence recovered?"
Munch shook his head.
"Nope. They all appear to have rubber pulled over both heads."
Fin just gave Munch a look before shifting his gaze back to Cragen.
"Do our two victims have anything in common?"
"Both women worked evening shifts and both had gotten off of work and were on their way home when the attack happened. One was a twenty year old cashier at a clothing store who had only been at her job for a week and the other one was a forty-one year old waitress whose been at her job for sixteen years. The attack scenes are about two blocks apart."
Leaning against Munch's desk, Olivia crossed her arms.
"That a large age gap between victims. Do they have anything in common?"
Munch looked up from the folder.
"Female is about as close as they seem to get except for working evenings and that two block radius. Our cashier is single, Catholic, Hispanic and taking college classes. Our waitress is divorced with a teenager, Methodist, white and works another job part-time."
The phone on Munch's desk started ringing and he passed the folder over to Olivia as he answered the phone.
"Sergeant Munch here. Yeah?"
Everyone went quiet as Munch grabbed a pad and pen, scribbling furiously. Then he dropped the pen onto his desk.
"Thanks. We'll have someone out there shortly."
Looking up to the others as he hung up the phone, Munch's expression was more grave than usual.
"Our trio of rapists appear to have graduated to murderers. We have a dead man, assaulted and left about a block from our second victim."
"Whoa, wait. A guy? How is this connected to our rape victims?"
Munch lifted a hand and extended his index finger.
"Two thing. First? Our male victim was a crossdresser and apparently looked more feminine than my second wife."
"And second?"
"That, my dear Fin, is the ultimate tie-in. He managed to grab hold of one of his attackers. More specifically, he has part of a Nixon mask clutched in his hand."
That last had Cragen start tossing out assignments.
"Fin, you and Munch go to the scene with our latest victim. Olivia, you and Amaro, go talk to our other two victims. These guys have crossed a line now - we need to catch them sooner rather than later."
Fin grabbed his jacket as Munch grabbed his hat.
"On our way, Captain."