Chapter Two – Cassleman (March 2009)

"Boyd, he threatened Casselman," Alex continued. She had a feeling she was babbling, but she couldn't seem to stop. "He threatened both of us in the courtroom yesterday. I didn't take it seriously because I didn't think Boyd had those kinds of connections but I don't know who else would do this…"

"Take a breath, Alex," Bobby said. "I know this is tough, and I'm sorry, but you need to relax."

"Right," Alex agreed, settling. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Bobby replied. He wasn't used to being the voice of reason. Alex didn't normally get upset like this, but she and Casselman had gotten close in their partnership.

Before they could continue their conversation they had pulled up at the house and he and Alex had both slipped out of the car, holding their badges out as they approached the crime scene tape. "Major Case," Alex called to the uniformed officer.

"Sorry guys," the young cop apologized. "You know I can't let you near this one."

"That's my partner," Alex snapped.

"Then I really can't let you in," the officer said. "I'm really sorry."

"Like hell you can't!"

"Alex," Bobby said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "He's just doing his job."

She turned away, pinching the bridge of her nose. A sure sign that she was stressed, Bobby knew. "Listen," Bobby said to the officer. "Could we just speak to one of the detectives in there who might know something?"

"I'll see what I can do," the man replied sympathetically.

Fifteen minutes later, a detective approached them. "Pewter, Homicide," he introduced himself.

"Goren and Eames, Major Case," Bobby returned, indicating himself and Alex. "Is there anything you can tell us?"

"Nothing good I'm afraid," Pewter replied grimly. "The ME said that preliminary cause of death was a suicide."

"Suicide?" Alex echoed sharply.

"I'm afraid so," Pewter replied.

"No," Alex stated flatly. "Absolutely not."

"Well, the ME still has to do an autopsy of course," Pewter conceded, "But judging from the crime scene that's really what it looked like."

"Well they're wrong!" Alex snapped. "He had no sign of depression – I just talked to him today! He's getting married soon! A guy like Casselman doesn't just kill himself out of the blue without any warning."

"Let me guess," Pewter said. "You're his partner."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"Alex," Bobby warned. The other detective was looking less sympathetic now, and Bobby had a feeling that they were about to get sent away from the crime scene. He felt that she was justified in her reaction, but he didn't know Pewter.

"I'm sorry about your partner," Pewter said. "But you may just need to accept this."

"I won't," Alex replied coldly.

Pewter's gaze became visibly harder. "I need to get back to the crime scene." He turned and went back in.

"You do that," Alex muttered darkly. "Try some real investigating!"

"You're lucky he didn't hear that," Bobby commented.

"Oh, like you can even talk after all the stunts you've pulled!"

"I'm sorry," Bobby said softly. He reached forward to pull her into his arms, not caring who was looking at them. "I'm sorry about your partner."

"I'm sorry too," she echoed, her voice wavering. "He was a good man."

"Boyd threatened us in the courtroom that day," Alex repeated.

"What exactly did he say?" the detective asked.

"He said: I will destroy you," Alex recalled.

"Kind of a vague threat," the detective commented.

"That's what I thought," Alex agreed. "I didn't take him seriously."

"But now you do," the detective inferred. "Why?"

"The fact that Cassleman's been murdered, to start," Alex snapped.

"We haven't determined cause of death yet," he cautioned.

Alex snorted impatiently. "He didn't commit suicide." Alex pictured the look on Boyd's face when he had threatened them. The look in his eyes… crazy eyes; that's what he had. She should have realized he was serious… But she hadn't known that he was connected enough to arrange a hit from the inside.

"Boyd's a sadist," Alex explained. "He got off on the pain of the victims. Not just physical, although he did use a multitude of weapons to torture his victims. He also liked to torment them mentally. He recorded torture sessions and told the victims that he would send the tapes to their family. He did – and set up cameras so that he could watch their reactions, and force his victims to watch. He played torture tapes from previous victims when he wasn't around to do it himself. He played mind games with them. To him, watching them lose their minds gave him about as much pleasure as the physical violence he used against them."

"We're all in agreement that this guy is a real sicko," the detective assured her, "We just can't be sure he's the one who murdered your partner. If he's such a sadist – why make the murder look like a suicide? Why not torture the victim?"

"A cop killing would have to be quick to avoid detection," Alex reasoned. "And besides, Boyd wasn't the one to do the kill – he's still locked up."

"We still have to keep an open mind," the detective said. "Are you sure you can't think of anyone else?"

"I never heard anyone else threaten him," Alex replied.

"Okay, thanks for your help."

Alex watched the detective leave, frowning at his back. Bobby came over and sat down next to her. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.

"I'm thinking," Alex replied vaguely. "He's right – Boyd would have wanted some gratification from the kill. To see his handiwork in some way, in order to enjoy the havoc he was wreaking."

The two remained silent for a time, both thinking. Bobby broke the silence, saying, "You said that Boyd set up cameras in the houses of the victim's family, in order to watch their reactions to the tapes?"

Alex didn't bother to answer; she simply whipped out her phone to call the detective back. "Check the house for cameras," she instructed, not even bothering with anything else.

"If Boyd's behind this," Alex said to Bobby after she hung up, "He'll have had someone set up cameras to see Jessie's reaction."

"Not to mention the investigation," Bobby agreed. Suddenly, he shot up and began prowling the room, peering into things such as the heating vents.

"Bobby?" Alex asked, trying to contain a laugh at his sudden transformation into some sort of hunting animal. "What are you doing?"

"Searching for cameras," he replied.

"Bobby…"

"If Boyd went after Cassleman, he could very well be coming after you!" Bobby said shortly. "I won't take that risk. I can't."

"They found cameras at Cassleman's place," Alex informed Bobby. He nodded.

"But none at our place," Alex reminded him. "So you can stop looking so worried now."

"But he threatened both of you."

"Yes," Alex admitted. "But-"

"What exactly did he say, again?" Bobby interrupted, his characteristic thoughtful frown creasing his features.

"He said I'm going to destroy you," Alex repeated. "All of you."

"All of you?" Bobby repeated.

"Yes."

Bobby's frown deepened. "But he was talking to you and Cassleman?"

"Yes," Alex agreed, trying to figure out where he was going with his questions.

When he realized she was looking at him questioningly, he explained, "Well, it's just that the correct way to threaten two people is: I'm going to destroy both of you."

"So what?" Alex asked. "Boyd used the wrong word. Does it really matter?"

Bobby remained silent for a moment longer. "No," he conceded. "I guess not."

"Anyway, they're tracing Boyd's visitor and call log, trying to figure out who he contacted to arrange it," Alex said. "But if he talked to someone on the inside, we're going to have a hard time figuring out who it was."

"I'm going to go and question Boyd," Bobby said. "He's got nothing to lose, really. Maybe he'll be ready to take credit for the kill; take pride in it."

Alex nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe. I'll come with you."

"No," Bobby insisted. "I don't want you anywhere near him."

"I can handle it," Alex replied irritably. "Besides, he's in a prison. No one's going to let him try anything."

"He's going to try and get a reaction from you, about Cassleman's death."

"I can handle it!" Alex insisted again.

"Your anger will be just what he wants," Bobby told her. "You'd really be playing right into his hands by going to see him."

Alex huffed irritably. "Fine!" she snapped. "You know I don't want to give him what he wants. But I'll have you know that I know you're just using that as an excuse because you don't want me there."

"That's not the point…" Bobby tried, his cheeks flushing.

"That's exactly the point and you know it," Alex scolded. "Maybe I won't be playing into Boyd's hands; I'll just be playing into yours." She shook her head.

"I love you," he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

"I love you too, but I'm still angry with you," she informed him. "And I'm not forgiving you until at least tonight. Now go on, I want to hear what Boyd has to say."

"Hello, Detective Goren," Boyd greeted as soon as Bobby walked through the door.

Bobby decided not to engage in Boyd's small talk. He wanted the upper hand, wanted to play games. By refusing to acknowledge anything but what he came to ask about, Bobby wasn't playing his part. "I'm here to ask you what you know about the murder of Detective Cassleman," he said instead.

"I heard that the poor man committed suicide," Boyd commented. Rather than irritate him, Boyd leaned forward, engaged by Bobby's refusal to exchange pleasantries.

"You heard, did you?" Bobby asked sharply. "How?"

"Oh, I could never reveal my sources," Boyd began to say. He was cut off by Bobby continuing.

"And did you have any part in Detective Cassleman's death?"

Now Boyd was annoyed. He frowned, but quickly covered it with a smile, readjusting in his seat so that he fully faced Bobby. "If I did, why would I admi-"

"Then you deny you ordered a hit on the detective who helped put you away?"

"My, my, detective," Boyd commented, no trace of a smile left. "I find your interruptions very-"

"Just answer the question," Bobby interrupted again.

There, he had done it. There was that gleam in Boyd's eyes, the look on his face, the expression of a killer. Bobby had brought out the true Boyd. But that didn't mean he was done playing games.

Boyd leaned forward over the table, and began speaking softly and quickly, "Yes, maybe I did, detective. Maybe I did order a hit. But you can't prove it or you would have done something about it by now. You only have your gut feeling. But there was another detective who played a part in my arrest; there was another who sealed my fate with her testimony."

He leaned back, satisfied, watching Bobby for signs of distress. Bobby was careful to reveal nothing. "Yes, I know about that," he said simply. "As for evidence, we have the cameras put up in Cassleman's apartment for you to watch, because you like to see the result of your handiwork."

"Oh yes," Boyd agreed. "The look on poor Jessica's face when she saw her dead fiancée was just priceless…"

"So you do admit that you have a part in his death," Bobby asked. He stuck to the part, stuck to what he was supposed to say… but something was wrong. Boyd was too relaxed; he had given in too easily.

"I do love watching the faces of loved ones when they realize what I've done," Boyd continued casually, as if he hadn't heard the question. "The shock, the grief… the panic." Bobby felt his heart sinking. Boyd was up to something, poised for the kill. Right as Bobby realized that panic wasn't what Boyd should have seen on Jessie's face when she found Cassleman, Boyd started speaking again. "How long do you think it takes to break into a house, find someone, overpower them, kill them, and stage the scene?" he asked, his pleasure growing more evident as Bobby began to rise from his chair. "And how long, detective?" Boyd asked, his voice echoing with glee, "How long do you think you've been away from Detective Eames?"

The sound of Boyd's laughter bounced off the walls, growing louder, as Bobby began banging on the door and yelling for the guard. "I knew you would come!" Boyd accused gleefully. "And I knew you'd never let her come! Look at me detective; let me see the panic!" He began laughing again, the sound chasing after Bobby as he fled the room.