The Little Prince: Chapter One

Friday 22 May 2009, 1:45 PM
FBI Headquarters, NY

Jack entered the break room and found Vivian brewing coffee. "Hey, Viv."

"A cup of coffee?" Vivian's warm smile greeted him. She knew what had happened, even if nobody had told her. At an intimate setting like Elena and Danny's marriage was, she noticed there was something different between Jack and Sam.
When Samantha had let slip her new rekindled relationship with Jack some months before, Vivian had decided to stay out of it. But she was not surprised it had not worked out. Their timing had never been right.

"Thanks," he said as he foraged for coins in his pocket.

"How is Hanna?" Vivian asked as she poured the coffee into two mugs.

"Fine, and, surprisingly, things seem smoother between us now." Jack kept looking at the vending machine, scanning it to find something more appealing than the full sugar or chocolate-covered donuts. At last he chose a 'Snack Mix'. He pushed the button, but nothing came out.

"She's a teenager. You have to be patient for both of you," Vivian said while she held out the coffee to Jack.

"Patience is my middle name!" he said, sipping his coffee as he kept pushing the button. He stared at a spot on the machine with peering eyes, and then he smacked it. Both the Snack Mix and his coins came out.

Vivian smiled her appreciation and added, "Your talents are unlimited."

"My college years weren't wasted on studies." He opened the snack wrapping and started removing its contents. He studied one of those yellow crackers shaped like a gold fish as if he had just discovered a new animal species. He smelled it and immediately stuck his nose up. "What are these horrible things?"

Vivian, who was looking at him amused, rolled her eyes. "It's food, Jack. Just shut up and eat it!"

Just then Martin appeared in the doorway. He was looking for Jack. "Jack, Olczyk is in your office. He wants to speak to you."

Jack took the last sip from his coffee before laying the mug on the counter and, heading out, he handed Martin the snack, saying, "Here, you'll like these. They are very healthy."

Vivian lifted her hands palm out, conveying her ignoranceat Martin's confused expression.

Half an hour later Jack approached the conference table in the bullpen, where the remaining three members of the team were sitting. He dropped on the table a photo and a couple of files. Then, taking a seat at the table, started, "Ann Marie Krajcek, alias Vanessa Thomson, alias Crystal Moon, alias 'you know what else' has been found dead this morning in one of those dilapidated hotels in South Bronx."

Everyone at the table looked quizzically at their boss. They weren't Homicide, were they?

Vivian took the lead and voiced what everyone was thinking, "And we were called… why?"

Jack rubbed his forehead and sighed, "The 'hotel manager' said she had a child with her. But there are no signs of a child in the room and the security camera was off, so no footage. We only have his word and his description of the child. And from what I heard from the detective I spoke to, he is not very reliable." Jack took a sketch from a folder and looked at it before handing it to Martin. "The child should be four or five years old, white, brown hair, no idea of his eyes. The manager just noticed he was very quiet."

"What are we going to do? Will we treat this as any other case?" Martin asked, wondering what would have been the best way of action.

"NYPD has checked the surroundings. At this point we are not even sure if this child was really with her or if he was there when the crime happened. There are a couple drugstores and a donut shop near the hotel, so maybe he was captured by their cameras. We'll have to check. First we have to find out if he is before we can find out who and where he is. There is no report of a kidnapping or even a disappearance of a child this age in the entire state. We'll send the sketch to every FBI office in the country."

Then, looking at his agents, Jack gave them their tasks.

"Martin, check the footages and try to capture a photo of this child." Jack turned toward the two female agents, hesitated a moment, then said, "Viv, check with the NYPD and get a copy of the woman's file. Go through it and see ifthere are any reasons she could have a child with her – a pregnancy, a relative, anything. Sam, you are with me; let's go to the hotel and talk to the manager. Detective Williams is waiting for us there."

Vivian's head lifted as soon as she heard her brother's name.

Jack lifted his eyebrow, "Problems?"

"No, it's okay."

"Fine. Let's get started." Jack turned and followed Samantha toward the elevators.

Vivian turned slowly toward her desk. It was years that she and her brother didn't talk to each other apart from the traditional Christmas wishes, and even those were usually done through their spouses. They hadn't shared the same room since their father's death. Marcus and her brother's wife had tried for years to make them settle their differences before giving in. They just couldn't understand.

South Bronx, NY

Jack and Samantha got out of the car. The building in front of them was decayed like everything around it. They passed a basketball field enclosed by a wire netting full of holes. Some school-age boys were playing there, heedless of the police. The hotel entrance was in an alley between two old damaged buildings. An explicit mural was painted on the wall that left no guesswork about what happened in the rooms there.

"Fine modern art! They should include this building into the New York tours for tourists," Jack said, glancing at the painted wall.

Those were Jack's first words since they had left the office. Samantha had thought it would be awkward between them, but he was trying his best to make things as smooth as possible. She had to give him credit for that. What worried her was what was boiling under the surface. She wasn't sure she was okay with their situation. She really wasn't. Instead he seemed at ease. Too much at ease? Was he trying to hide his feelings? Or instead did he deem it was definitely over between them? Samantha shook off the thought – this wasn't the right moment to mull these questions over. She looked at the surroundings and stated, "This woman had to be really desperate to bring a child here."

Jack nodded and, approaching the entrance, went first.

"No wonder the guy doesn't remember anything!" Samantha said, covering her mouth and nose, "I can smell the alcohol from here." She looked a bit queasy.

Jack talked before he was aware of it, "What is it? Are you pregnant again? Brian and you don't waste your time!" He smiled and, stopping in the doorway, kept the door open for her.

Samantha glared at him and, without answering back, headed toward the cubicle where a man was violently coughing. What the hell was that? A bad joke, hopefully.

Jack shook his head and followed Sam. What had started as a joke to loosen the tension between them quickly changed in his mind. A sense of jealousy pervaded him; the words came out without his control. Jack wondered what made him think that it would be less complicated this time around - nothing between them had ever been easy.

The two agents approached the man. Jack presented his credentials and started asking questions. Apparently the man didn't remember anything useful.

"Are you sure she never called him by name?" Jack asked him again.

The man shook his head.

"Have you ever heard the boy call her? Was he frightened? How did he behave?" Jack continued.

"I don't know. It was just a kid." The man shrugged and brought to his mouth the cigarette he had left in the ashtray.

"We are not the police. We are not interested in what happens here, okay?" Samantha tried a different approach.

He nodded taking a deep drag on his cigarette.

"So, have you ever seen the woman before?" Samantha asked when she had the man's full attention.

"Yeah, she has been a usual client for months. She came here with her clients a couple hours a day. But it had been some time since she rented a room here. I thought she had been busted or had changed zones to avoid it. Then she showed up last night with the kid."

"Do you know where she lived?" Samantha continued.

"Not my business. I make them pay first thing when they rent the room. No questions asked. This is why I'm still alive and in business." He put out the cigarette and added it to the several butts already in the ashtray. Samantha backed away just in time to avoid the man coughing in her face as a new violent crisis hit him.

Sam and Jack shared a look-it was all they would get from him, at least for the moment. Jack handed his card to the man, telling him to call if anything came up and turning to go away, he added, "I'd stop smoking if I were you, sir."

Detective Williams was in the corridor, waiting for them. He didn't like to work with 'the Feds' and didn't do anything to hide it. His lieutenant called them and he hadn't understood why. They had always solved their cases on their own. What made this case so special?

Jack flashed his badge and said, "Special Agents Malone and Spade."

The policeman nodded, "Detective Williams. The room is over there."

He led the way down the corridor and stopped in front of room 118. He took a quick look at the two FBI agents. The blond woman had her hands tight in her pockets. He noticed that she had been careful to not touch anything. She didn't want to dirty her high couture suit. "Sorry, for the lack of décor. Not quite up to Manhattan standards." His tone was contemptuous. Then, turning to the policemen still working on the scene, he said, "Guys, could you give 'our guests' a minute?"

Jack and Samantha didn't pay any attention to the irony in Detective Williams' words. They stopped in the doorway and looked around the room. The bed was unmade. There was a small suitcase open on a chair next to the bathroom door. The window pain was broken and glass was shattered on the floor. Large sprays of blood on the wall and stains on the floor indicated where the woman had been killed. They could imagine the scene. She was probably in the bed sleeping when the killer had broken in. The noise of broken glass had suddenly wakened her. She saw the killer and probably tried to escape toward the door. The killer jumped on the bed and grabbed her. There were two clear footprints on the sheets and the bedside table was knocked over.

"Nobody heard her scream. Everything probably happened in a few seconds. The killer attacked her from behind and cut her throat with a sharp knife. The cut was neat, done from left to right. The medical examiner said the killer had to be at least three inches taller than she. Considering height and strength, it was probably a man. The killer knew what he was doing."

"Okay." Then, looking around the room again, Jack asked, "What about the child?"

"There's no evidence. There is only a little bloodstain near the window." Detective Williams headed toward the window to show the FBI agents the stain on the windowsill. Then he added, "But without anything to compare it with, we'll need time."

Samantha bent down to take a better look at the stain. It didn't seem a drop. Looking backward, she found a tiny bloodied piece of glass. It was among the others on the floor. And what if the little boy had been barefoot?

"Jack? Take a look here. Maybe the kid cut his foot. The blood could be his."

FBI Headquarters, NY

Martin was in the office checking the footage he had taken from the drugstores. He was scanning the images, looking for a woman and a child. His work was finally awarded when the Ann Marie Krajcek appeared on the screen. She held a child by the hand and he had a small backpack on his shoulder. He felt a shiver rising up his spine. The little boy was with her, and they were going toward the hotel. He took note of the time: 7 PM. Then he attentively watched the other security tapes, looking for the same boy, hoping to see him again.

On the way back to her desk, Vivian dropped by Martin's desk with a cup of coffee and asked, "Did you find out anything?"

"Yeah, take a look here." He handed her the still image printout. Then, taking the coffee, he thanked Vivian.

"So, I guess we have a 'real' case. Have you already called Jack?" Vivian asked as she recognized the woman in the photo.

"No, I'd hoped the child was safe somewhere and not with her."

Vivian nodded. She leaned sympathetically a hand on Martin's shoulder. "I think it's not the case. I'll call Jack."

Vivian headed toward her desk. She took the folder where she took note of everything useful she found in the woman's dossier and dialled Jack's cell phone number.

Jack and Samantha had just got in the car when Jack's phone rang.

"Hey, Viv," he answered, after looking at the caller ID.

"Martin found a still image of the child. I looked through the woman's file, but nothing caught my attention. There is no evidence she has ever been pregnant. She was from Kentucky and she has no relatives here. I have no idea who the child could be."

"Okay. Give me the woman's address and send us a photo of the kid. I want a complete background check on this woman. She is the only thing we have at the moment."

Ann Marie Krajcek's apartment - 4:00 PM

"Didn't we have to let Detective Williams know we were coming here?" Samantha asked Jack as they were waiting for the key from the super to enter the woman's apartment.

"The case is officially ours now," Jack stated.

"Okay." Then, looking at the long corridor full of doors, she added, "I'll check to see if her neighbors know something."

Jack nodded. As Samantha headed toward the end of the corridor, the super arrived with the key and opened the door.

"Thank you. I'll give it to the police as soon as we are done here." Jack went in and closed the door behind him.

Drapes, pillows and ornaments revealed without any doubt that a woman lived there. There were a few messages on the answering machine. Nothing seemed out of place in the living room. Jack went to the bedroom and things changed there. The bed was unmade and closet and drawers were not properly closed. There were hangers on the floor. Someone was in a hurry to leave. On the bedside table there was a fairy tale book. Jack went back to the living room. Looking around, he saw a stuffed dog hidden behind one of the pillows on the couch. It didn't seem like a kid lived there, but a child occasionally visited. The kid was not hers and she hasn't taken care of him for a long time – a couple days at most. Jack went back to the answering machine and listened to the messages, five of them. Nothing relevant, just friends looking for her. She'd been out since Thursday morning.

In the meantime Samantha was knocking on the doors down the corridor. Everyone told her the woman was nice and quiet. She moved in only six months before. When Samantha was talking to a Mr. Turner, she received a message from the office. It was the photo of the child, which she showed to Mr. Turner.

"Do you recognise this child?"

"Let me get my glasses. Please, come in." The old man led the way to the kitchen. He put on his glasses and took a better look at the photo. "It's Davey!" Mr. Turner looked at Samantha. "It's Dave Winters. He lives with his father in 3B."