Sorry it's been so long. My Internet's been down – actually, it's still down but my dad just bought me a laptop with I'm soooooo excited about and he bought me a Rogers Internet stick so even if the house connection is down, I can get Internet. And I'm so excited for the SVU season finale tomorrow night (well, here in Canada – I think in the US it plays on Wednesday). I also bought the whole season of Conviction off Amazon for a ridiculously unfair price because I wanted to see Alex as bureau chief (she's my absolute favourite ADA). It was actually pretty good and I watched all thirteen episode. I also bought Trial By Jury just because, so I didn't have much time to write. But now I'm back! Enjoy.

I didn't have a great childhood. Sure, my parents loved me. But my life was always overshadowed by a mysterious, almost ghostlike presence. A little girl who haunted my dreams, her arms outstretched as she fell into a bottomless whirlpool of demise, screaming for me to save her. "Donny! Donny!" That was what she called me.

She was always there. When I brought home an A on my report card, when I started high school, when I had my first girlfriend, my first kiss, my high school graduation, there she was. And the words were there, even though no one said them: This was one more milestone she never got to reach. Even when I got married, became a detective, then the captain, she was the one thing that kept me moving forward every day.

When I was a child, there was a candy store a block from my house. When I was six, my parents decided to let me go there with my friends on one condition – I had to let my little sister tag along. I resented her for it. She was three years my junior and I wanted nothing to do with her. I would have preferred to hang out with my friends rather than having a little girl with blonde pigtails trotting along a few steps behind us, clutching her doll and sucking on a red lollipop that the man at the candy store had given her, free of charge.

One day my two best friends, Steven and Liam, and I were on our way to the candy store. My sister was skipping beside us, happy to be included and excited for the candy. I never understood why the "Candyman," as we'd christened him, gave her free lollipops every week but we boys had to use our own nickels to buy our sweets.

I was a naïve little boy. So shoot me.

He always smiled at her and made a bit of small talk, asking her about her doll, her new dress, her family. She would give him a gap-toothed smile and reply with her adorable lisp, hugging her doll tightly to her chest. He would give her a candy before turning to us with a disapproving stare and ask us what we wanted, as if we were putting him out by being there.

I push my sister from my mind. Right now, I need to organize my detectives – and myself, if I can handle it – into finding out what happened to Daniela Richards.

John and Fin return first. Fin knocks on my door. "Captain, it's definitely him."

I sigh. Just as I've expected.

"But," adds John, coming up behind him. "He's managed to elude our tenuous grasp once again."

"Did anyone see him with a woman?" Maybe he's got a new girlfriend and he's hiding out with her. It's possible; it's happened before. But by the time we hunted her down, she was either conveniently amnesiac, badly beaten, or dead.

"Yeah," says Fin. "Her name's Marisa Anachek."

"She's MIA," adds John.

Go figure. "Well, go find her."

Fin raises his eyebrows. "Aren't you –"

"No," I say shortly. "Go."

They scamper out.

Usually with a case as big as this, I'm out and about with my detectives. But now, I can't bring myself to leave my office. All I can do is leaf through the scrapbook and remember.

The first time we heard of this guy was 1989. I was working with the 2-7 and a girl named Amanda Stevenson had gone missing and was found dead a few days later in the woods near her house. The case file was eerily familiar and I took a special interest in it. We worked hard, but to no avail.

Then several months later, there was a new victim, and once again we caught the case. So on it went for years and when I transferred to SVU, so did the cases. They meant something to me, more than any other case ever had. This was the reason why I'd become a police officer to begin with and I wouldn't rest until I put this elusive monster behind bars. This was my destiny.

Do you know who the first victim is? Do you have any idea? Would you like me to confirm or deny your suspicions? Are they going to find the perp? Review to find out!