Party Store on 9th and Broadway
An older pakistinian couple are behind the counter, talking amongst themselves and keeping an eye on the comings and goings of customers. An older man is near the back of the store, in the far right corner, picking up dog food with a newspaper tucked under his left arm. He has balding, grey hair, and steel colored bifocals. He seems oblivious to the world around him as he shops. In the middle aisle a young, beautiful chinese girl is arguing quietly with a caucasion girl. "I can't take it anymore, Brit!" The chinese girl hisses at her. "We can't even go to the store without you picking fights!"
The other girl looks visibly upset, eyes swelling with tears, "I just wish you wouldn't wear that thing everywhere we go!"
"You know how important it is, and if you can't handle it, then we're through." The chinese girl tells her. She grabs the basket of groceries and proceeds to the counter, the other girl, still shaken and crying, leaves the store.
Richfield Apartment Building - 4B
The chinese girl is pacing the small kitchenette of the apartment. She has a phone to her ear, listening impatiently as the other end speaks. "I have it," she says. There is a knock on the apartment door, and with the phone still to her ear, she walks over to it. She peeks out the peephole. "What the.." she says quietly. "No, not you," she says back to the person on the other line. "Someone just knocked on my door and my peephole is blocked." A pause, followed by another knock at the door. "Hold on a second," she reaches for the chain, latches it, and slowly moves her hand to the knob. "What? Ok, I'll call you right back, then." She closes her cell phone, slips it into her pocket, and calls out, "Who is it?"
Alley outside Richfield Apartment Building
The other girl from the party store is running through the alley, her blonde hair a mess, and tears streaming down her face. She looks down at her blood-soaked hands, and a small whimper escapes her lips. A cop car pulls up in front of the aprtment building, and she presses against the dark wall to hide. Newspapers and trash bags line the nearby wall, and she picks up some paper to wipe her hands off with. She watches the cops go inside the building, then disappears around the corner.
Richfield Apartment Building - 4B
The Chinese girl is lying face up just inside the doorwar. Her face is covered in blood, as are her arms, hands and chest. Goren is standing over her, then walks over to Eames who is in the kitchen. The other cops are around taking up evidence and checking for clues. "Someone knocks at the door, she doesn't recognize them, she chains the door before opening it." He thinks out loud.
"Or the perp blocked the peephole," Eames adds. "I don't see her opening the door for a stranger."
"So she asks who it is first." Goren says. "Someone she knows enough to open the door for, then they force their way in." He looks at the broken chain, swinging impotently from it's place on the door, torn completely from the wall. "Cheap piece of metal, when are people going to realize how unprotected they really are?" Eames walks to the body.
"They come in, stab at her, and she blocks with her hands," Eames adds, looking at the knife wounds on the girls palms. "Then they knock her down and stab her three times in the chest, killing her."
Eames sighs. She's looking around the kitchen, spotting her purse on the counter. Stretching the gloves over her hands, she dumps it out in front of her. "Brush, tampons, wallet, makeup... No address book."
Goren removes the cell phone from a plastic bag on the counter. He opens it and begins to search her contacts. "Bloody, but still works." He stops. "Recent calls, here we go. Jake, boyfriend perhaps. Britney. Four here from Britney. Last call was work, must have been minutes before she died."
Rusty's Diner
Britney's waiting on table's as the detectives come in. They sit down in her section and wait for her to approach. She walks over, looking tired and frazzled. Her frizzy blonde hair is pulled up, unwashed, and there are bags under her eyes from a long, sleepless night. "Would you like to hear the specials?" she asks flatly as she approaches them.
Goren looks up at her. "You just work a double? You look exhausted."
She forces a smile. "No. Long night."
Eames says, "Would it have anything to do with Nelay?"
Britney's face twists up, looking like a deer in headlights. She looks at the door to the diner, then around to the back. Goren grabs her hand, and scoots over, pulling her down to sit with them. Goren asks her, "Where were you last night between ten and eleven?"
"I was home, trying to call Nelay. Did something happen to her?"
"Nice try," Eames chipped in. "Your last call to Nelay was at nine. What did you talk about?"
"She was upset with me. I was so sick of that documentary she was working on. She was always recording everything we did. It was so annoying. I just wanted her to take a break from it once in awhile."
"Is there something you didn't want recorded? Is that why?" Goren asked.
She shook her head. "I just didn't want to be apart of it."
"Why?"
"Because I didn't want my whole life on tape!" She said angrily. "Every single moment, everything we did, I just wanted us to be ourselves!"
"And you couldn't be?" Eames asked softly.
"No."
"This is her big break, Britney. This is her way to gain permanent citizenship. It means a lot to her. You're good friends, couldn't you be more supportive?" Goren pressed in, laying on the guilt.
Tears welled up in Britney's eyes. "I was supportive. I had been there for her when she knew nothing, no one. I just wanted her to turn the camera off, once in awhile. Besides, she was going to marry Jake for citizenship. She didn't need the documentary."
"He didn't mention that," Eames pondered out loud. "Is he aware she is just using him?"
She shook her head. "No, he was in love with her."
Goren looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "You keep speaking in the past tense."
"What?" Britney asked, confused.
"You said, he WAS in love with her. Not is."
"Uhm," her eyes looking for exits again.
"I suggest you tell us what happened," Eames said soothingly, placing her hand on Britneys.
Britney pulled back, wrapping her arms around herself like a child trying to console herself. "I swear, I didn't do anything," she said, tears forming. "I just wanted to talk to her."
"So you went to her apartment," Goren added. "But she didn't want to see you, did she? She wouldn't even open the door for you."
"What? No," Britney said. "I... when I got there..." she trailed off. "She was already dead. I tried to, I held her," she began to cry. "There was nothing I could do."
"Why didn't you call the police?" Goren demands.
"I..." she looks defeated. "I don't know. I just freaked out, ok?"
"Do you have any idea who would want to kill her?" Eames asks.
"No. She hardly knew anyone. Besides work, me and Jake are the only ones she talked to."
"She only knows two people, and the fight you had was major enough that she no longer wanted to speak to you. What aren't you telling us, Britney?" Goren presses.
Britney holds herself tighter, shaking her head. "Nothing, she was just mad, she was sick of me nagging her about the documentary."
"Where are her tapes?" Eames asks.
Britney shrugs. "I know she turns them in to her work weekly, for editing. But I don't know where they would be until then."
Eames looks at Goren. "There weren't any tapes or cameras recovered at the apartment."
"Maybe she just turned them in," Goren suggests.
Atlas Production Company
Goren and Eames sit down in the office of Chad Griffon, the editor working on Nelay's documentary. Chad turns a tv to them, then says, "She dropped these off the night she died. I looked through them, but I didn't find anything worth killing her over." He hands Goren the remote and he begins to skip through the scenes.
"What was the documentary about?" Eames asks.
"Legal immigrants. How they are coming into the country and making a new life for themselves. It's going to take some of the negative light off illigel immigrants by showing America that immigrants aren't all that way. A lot of them go through the system, and spend years trying to get their families over here with them. It sheds light on how hard it really is to find work, they aren't stealing our jobs, they are taking the ones no one wants and less then minimum wage, and aren't even complaining about it. It's a very inspiring documentary. Despite all the odds against them, the people in her documentary are grateful, content, and hopeful."
"Wow," Goren said, letting it sink in.
"Any chance there ARE illegal immigrants anywhere on these tapes? Risk of deportation would be a strong motive." Eames asked.
He shook his head. "No. They all fill papers out, agreeing to be a part of it. They have to show legal documents. There were illegals trying to be in it, for the compensation, that's why we require proof."
Goren nods. "I'm going to need those tapes."
"But, the documentary," Chad objects.
"You'll get them back."
Viewing Room - One Police Plaza
Goren is viewing the tapes when Eames comes in, coffee in hand. "Find anything?" she asks.
He shakes his head. "Nope, everything looks legit. I did find the girl's fight though." He fast forwards to them in the party store and plays it for her to hear.
"You know how important it is, and if you can't handle it, then we're through," Nelay tells Britney. They watch as Britney storms out and Nelay onloads her basket on the counter. The pakistinian couple talk heatedly in another language while they ring her up, the woman pausing only to tell Nelay her total.
"Don't you just hate that?" Goren asks.
"It's rude," Eames agrees. "I always feel so uncomfortable when people are talking another language right in front of me, it's like they're talking about me."
"Probably domestic quabbles. I wonder if they were a part of her documentary."
Eames begins to flip though the copied files of the participating immigrants from the production office. "None of the photo's match up, you didn't see them anywhere in the tapes?"
"No. But back to the girls argument, doesn't it seem a bit much to you?"
"What do you mean?" Eames asks.
"If you can't handle it, then we're through," He repeats. "It's so dramatic."
"Maybe they wanted to spice the documentary up?"
"I don't know," Goren shook his head. "Sound's more like a break up to me."
Eames nods. "That would explain a lot. They might have been more then friends. That would explain why Britney tried calling her so many times that night and just went over anyways."
"A love triangle?"
Jake's Apartment
"I told you everything I know," Jake said, defeated, sitting across from them once more.
"You didn't tell us about Nelay and Britney," Eames countered.
"Yes I did, I told you they fought!" Jake objected.
Goren turns to Eames, "He doesn't know."
"Don't know what?"
"Your girlfriend and Britney were more then just friends," Eames catches him up.
"What? That's crazy," Jake said. "Nelay wasn't even friends with Britney anymore."
"Yea, as of the night she died. They had a fight earlier in the day, Britney couldn't take it, kept calling Nelay, then went over to confront her." Goren pressed.
"That bitch killed her!" Jake exclaimed, jumping from the couch. "Then why are you here talking to me, arrest her!"
"So you had no idea they were more then just friends?" Eames asked, helping him settle back on the couch.
Jake shook his head again. "No. I don't know. They were close. Britney was always around, it was annoying. She WAS always hanging on Nelay. I thought she was just, you know, one of those needy girls who fed on attention."
Eames nodded. "Thank you, Jake."
Britney's Apartment
"I told you everything I know!" Britney cried. She was fixing a drink in the kitchen as the detectives sat down at the table.
"Not everything," Goren said.
"Why don't you tell us the extent of your relationship with Nelay?" Eames asked.
Britney sighed, sitting down with them at the kitchen table. "We were in love."
"And you felt you had to hide it?" Goren asked.
She nodded. "My parents don't know about me. They would freak out. They're catholic, they just wouldn't understand."
"That's why you hated the camera always being on," Goren added. "You had to pretend when they were."
"Yes. I just wanted to be happy. We already had to hide it from my family, but we couldn't even go in public together without the camera rolling. Naley promised as soon as the documentary was done, we could be together more."
"What about Jake?" Goren asked.
"I told you, he was her backup, in case the work visa didn't pull through."
"So if you didn't kill her, and Jake didn't, who does that leave?" Goren pushed.
"I don't know. We were the only ones close with her. And he didn't know a thing, I know it wasn't him!"
"Think, Britney." Eames said.
Britney sniffled, and wiped at her face. She thought for a minute, then said, "I honestly don't know. But a few month's ago, there was this one guy who really liked her. She wasn't interested in him, but we caught him following her around a few times."
"Who was he?"
"Some guy we interviewed. He asked her out, and she said no. We never would have even known he followed her after that, if it wasn't for that camera. He came up a few times in the background images after that."
"When was the last time?" Goren asked.
"Like I said, it's been a few months. She threatened to file a restraining order, and that was the last we saw of him."
"What was his name?" Eames asked.
"Raza. I don't remember the last name."
China Doll Fish Market
"Ugh, it reeks!" Eames complained as they walked to the back of the market.
"This is his last known place of employment, let's hope he's here." Goren said, opening the door to gutting room.
"Raza Surez?" Goren called out.
A head looked up. "Yes?"
The detectives approached him, flashing a recent photo of Nelay. "Recognize this woman?" Goren asks.
"That's Nelay," Raza tells him. "Is she ok?"
"When was the last time you saw Nelay?" Eames asks.
"It's been awhile," he says. "Few months."
"You haven't been stalking her anymore?" Goren grills him.
"I wasn't stalking her," Raza says, sounding offended. "She interviewed me and I asked her out, one time. After that, she and her friend told me if I didn't stop following her, they would tell the cops. I never followed her."
"The camera caught you, Raza," Eames tells him, "Several times, until she threatened you."
"No. She interviews a lot around here. There is a lot of work for immigrants in this area, I cannot help it if she seen me in the background! I never stalked her!" Another man comes up to Raza, asking him something in their language. He responds, and the guy walks off.
"What did you just say?" Goren asks.
"He asked what was going on, now can I get back to work?"
"Yes." Goren starts to turn with Eames to leave, thinking. He remembers the coversation at the store. "Maybe we should get an interpreter for those tapes," he tells her.
Viewing Room - One Police Plaza
The interpreter watches closely, and they huddle together in the room as the couple in the store speak. "This is a wild goose chase, Bobby," Eames says.
"Shhh," he quiets her.
The interpreter listens intently, then pauses the tape. "They are talking about a robbery," he says.
"A robbery? What robbery?" Goren asks.
"Their store was robbed last week," he says.
"I'll pull the files," Eames says, leaving the room.
The interpreter unpauses and watches some more. He pauses again. "It was a setup," he tells him.
"Insurance fraud." Goren says.
Party Store
The detectives enter, the couple are behind the counter, talking to each other. Goren flashes his badge. The wife looks worried, but the husband asks, "Is this about robbery?"
"Yes," Eames answers. "What happened?"
"I told other police, it's in report," he says in his thick accent.
Goren shows him a picture of Nelay. "Recognize her?"
"Yes," the man says. "She shops here, she asked us to interview for her."
"Did you?" Eames asks.
He begins to look nervous. "No."
"Why not?" Goren asks him.
"I'm busy man," he says. "No time."
Goren smiles. "No time for an interview, but plenty of time for a robbery?"
The man twists as his hands, "Yes, robbery set us back. Much work to catch up."
"You planned the robbery, didn't you?" Goren presses in. "Everything worked fine, you paid friends to make it look legit, you had a big payout coming didn't you?"
"I don't know what you talk about."
"Yes you do. You went on with business as normal, but your wife, she was very worried you would get caught, wasn't she? She couldn't keep her mouth shut about it," Goren played it out, watching the store owner glare a menacing look at his spouse. "When Nelay asked to interview you, you realized she had the camera on the whole time. What happened then? Did you set up an interview and go to her apartment and kill her?"
"Hammad, no," the wife begain to cry. Hammad stood still, face stern and untelling.
"Did you go with him?" Eames asked, walking over to her.
She shook her head, "No, no."
"Shutup!" Hammad yelled at her.
"You don't have to shut up, it's ok," Eames soothed her. "He did it, not you, tell me what happened."
"We tried to get tape," she cried. "The girl would not give to us, she said she need it. Hammad agree to interview, and went to see her." She shook as she cried, "He told me he talk to her, not kill her!"
"Shut up, Erza!" he yelled.
"You were upset when you couldn't get the tape, weren't you?" Goren asked. "You thought the knife would silence her?"
"I ask her for tape!" Hammad yelled. "She lied, said she not have it."
"So you thought you'd be persuasive?" Goren asked.
"You're under arrest," Eames tells him, cuffing him.
"She really didn't have it," Goren tells him. "You took her life over a tape."
"I didn't mean it, I just wanted tape back," Hammad begins to cry. "I'm sorry."
"Not as sorry as your wife is," Eames tells him. "Now she has no husband, and no insurance money."