"You know, this is exactly what makes people lose their faith in the criminal justice system. One minute, everything's fine, and the next minute, a judge is dead, because he's an idiot who's been playing everyone for a fool."
Munch's voice is the first to break the silence between the three of them, and Elliot and Olivia exchange glances, before one of them replies.
"I think you're a lot more jaded than the rest of us are, Munch," she says. "But then, you have a point. One minute everything's fine, and the next, it's all getting shot to hell."
"Exactly," Munch says dryly. "And the department and DA's office wonder why no one ever seems to want anything to do with them. Look what just happened here."
"Affairs always turn everything into a mess; if you haven't seen it happen before now, then I don't know if you ever will," says Elliot, and then, "Where's Cassidy?"
Munch frowns, slightly, and leans back in his chair. "He had a few things to take care of back in the squad room," he says. "Transferring, you know."
"Really? Why?" Olivia asks, and Munch gives her a startled look before shrugging.
"Said it wasn't for him, this unit," he says, finally. "Didn't think he could handle much more than he already had. Can't say I blame him."
"Neither can I," says Elliot, who's always thought to himself that Cassidy was still a bit of a rookie, and not particularly ready to handle what the unit throws at them. "Where's he headed?"
"Over to Narcotics, on the northside of the borough, I think," Munch replies. "I think it'll be a good change for him, honestly. Stuff he actually understands."
Silence. The three detectives look at each other and then look away, before each of them takes a sip from the drinks in front of them, one at a time. An amused look crosses Olivia's face.
"This is pathetic," she says. "Here we are, and one of ours is transferring out, but he's not here, and the day's over, and we could go home, but instead, we're sitting at the back of some bar."
"Cop bar," says Elliot, as if it makes any sort of difference. "Guess we really don't have any kind of a life."
"Apparently not," says Munch, and then, "You know, Benson, you did good today. IAD can't hit you for anything."
"Guy had a gun and he was aiming it at me and my partner when I shot him," says Olivia. "What do they think I'm going to do, stand there and let him shoot first?"
"Happens again to any one of us, they're probably going to come around and ask why our unit's so trigger-happy," Elliot remarks, and she shoves his foot with her own under the table.
"I'm not trigger-happy, I was just trying to save your ass, and mine, thanks."
"So I really am worth saving. Good to know."
"So, what do you think is going to happen now, that everyone's seen this judge for what he really was beneath the so-called robes?" Munch asks, and both of the younger detectives look at him.
"I think a lot of people are going to be going over whatever they did that had him involved," says Elliot. "And I think that people are going to take a harder look at what's really going on in the court system."
"About damn time," says Olivia. "I don't see why a harder eye isn't kept on the system in the first place. It's how guys like the judge get through the cracks."
"All those women ever wanted was to keep their abusive husbands away from them, and when they were up for parole, that idiot had all the influence, so if they pissed him off, he'd get the bastards let go," says Munch. "I don't know about you, but that sure as hell isn't justice."
"Of course it isn't," says Elliot, sarcastically. "Justice is keeping them in prison long enough to get what you want out of the women before you ruin their lives."
"This better not leave this table, you two, but if I were one of those women…" says Olivia, and trails off, because she knows both men already know what she means.
"You know, the captain assigned Cassidy to another sort of case while everyone else was on this one," Munch remarks, and Elliot and Olivia look at him, startled.
"He did?" they ask, and Munch nods.
"Cassidy wouldn't say anything, but I have the feeling it was one of those that just shakes you enough that you can't wait to get out," he says. "Maybe the captain's way of weeding people out?"
Elliot shakes his head. "Nah. Cragen's the kind that gives everyone a chance, trust me. Probably wanted to teach him a lesson about sensitivity or what not."
"Probably." But Munch doesn't sound all that convinced. "You know, this unit's a lot harder than Homicide ever was."
"Well, yeah. The victims can actually talk to you here. In Homicide, they're all already long gone," says Olivia.
"It's a lot easier prosecuting murders than it is prosecuting sex crimes," Munch comments, and then, "Of course, then we get something like this, and you don't want to prosecute the person who did it, because she's also a victim."
"Another flaw in the system," says Elliot. "Maybe we should quit being cops and go around pointing out all the flaws we can find. I'm sure we can make a living out of that."
"Yeah, if we wanna go up to Albany and sit on our asses all day just to pass one law," Olivia mutters. "What do you think is going to happen?"
"No idea. Odds are, the husband will go back to jail, the wife will face charges, but hopefully won't get too hard of a sentence, and things will go back to normal as soon as possible," Munch replies.
Elliot snorts. "If things were ever really normal in the first place." He trails off and then goes on. "Why is it that everything always seems to hit the lot of us in the middle of the night?"
Silence. Munch and Olivia look at each other, but she doesn't answer, and instead, he does.
"Because in the cold light of the nighttime in this city, everything happens. There's a reason why we're the city that never sleeps."
"Yeah," says Olivia, sarcastically, deciding to add on to this, "Because people are too caught up in their own worlds to notice what's going on and put a stop to it."
"Well, yeah," says Elliot, "But then, in the cold light of the nighttime, we come out and do just that."
Munch gives a half-hearted smirk at this. "Or at least, we try to."