All Angeles Church

251 West 80th St

9:00 p.m.

Amanda Rollins sat in the chilly church basement listening to a middle aged man share his sad story of gambling. She had been coming to Gambler's Anonymous meetings for close to a year now, and listening to others was still difficult for her. It was getting close to football playoff season so more newbies were appearing in meetings. Rollins understood the desire to bet, but she had a huge reason not to give into the temptation; her career. Captain Cragen had put it plain and simple last February when he agreed to help her with her addiction: screw up again and she was out. Being a cop was all she ever wanted to do, and she was good at it, but the action of betting had blocked her from the rush of arresting a criminal. Now that she had been away from that world, her mind was clearer and she had improved her investigative abilities.

"So I started giving out numbers to cards with little activity to work off my debt…" The man, a banker, was still sharing and Rollins found herself sighing at how lucky she had been to be caught before she abused her power to work off the debt. The stories she had heard made her wonder how bad things might have gotten before she hit her "rock bottom". Would she have looked up records for people her bookie wanted to find? Would she have destroyed evidence pointing to a criminal who happened to be "friendly" with her bookie? Thinking on it now, she could say no, but when a person is pushed, even the most righteous had the capability of straying.

Her cellphone vibrated violently close to her hip and she jumped slightly. She slid her hand into her jacket pocket and looked at the screen. She had a text from her partner, Fin Tutuola, stating they had a case and he was waiting for her outside. She looked up, hoping no one had noticed the interruption. She rose, grabbed her leather coat from the back of her chair and quietly slipped out. Normally, she would have waited until the end, but Fin never interrupted a meeting unless it was important, Cragen wouldn't let him. She was allowed to attend meetings while on duty if it was necessary, but Rollins tried to keep it from becoming a habit. She walked out of the church and was hit with a blast of cold air as was typical of late December weather. She shivered and considered walking back in and letting Fin wait on her, this was insane.

Just then, a charcoal gray Dodge Charger pulled up and flashed its headlights. The thought of going back inside was dashed since Fin had arrived. She ran to the car, opened the door, and hurriedly sat down, grateful for the heat. Fin looked at his partner as an awkward silence befell the car's cabin. He knew about her problem and was the one to encourage Rollins to tell Cragen, but a hitman working for her bookie gave her up first. Since then, the two had hardly spoken about the elephant in the room. He honestly didn't know what to say without sounding like a complete jerk. He just cleared his throat as Rollins closed the door and he put the car into gear. They rode along for what seemed like hours before she spoke.

"So, what's the case?"

"Got a victim at NYU, girl was found in her office by a guard. "

"NYU, isn't school out? Is she a student?" Rollins was surprised that student would be in a school this week.

Fin shook his head as he turned a corner, "No, she was working in the Registrar's office this week. Strange though, Liv got a call there over an hour ago to another floor."

Rollins raised her eyebrows; she knew what two victims found in a similar location meant; serial. "Wow, we haven't one of those in a while, a serial rapist."

"We don't know if it's the same M.O., but it's possible."

The two let that last statement hang in the air like a bubble suspended in gel. Serial rapists were never fun cases, it usually meant lots of hours and possibly more victims before any suspects were caught. It would be even worse if the guy was smart and knew something about police procedure and crime scenes. It was cases like this that made Fin wish he had stayed in Narcotics. Those were cut and dry most days, drug dealers shoot each other, kill users for money, got caught and went away. Rape, especially multiple victims was an emotional toll. One he wasn't sure his partner was ready for.

NYU

726 Broadway, 8th floor, Suite c

10:00 p.m.

CSU guys were standing outside the room when Fin and Rollins arrived, but they weren't waiting for a coroner, the room was horribly small, barely enough room for a desk and some file cabinets. Fin looked in and saw papers scattered, a computer monitor cast aside on the floor and a small pool of blood. He immediately motioned for the uniformed officer to step outside and talk with him. The officer looked like a guy who had tried too many times for a promotion, but gave up and accepted the beat life. He was a weathered guy with graying hair at the temples. Fin knew that this wasn't this guys' first trip to the rodeo so they should get a decent report.

"What happened, Officer Collings?"

"Guard was doing rounds at 9 and found the door was cracked and the light on. He opened it up and there she was lying in the middle of the floor. She was barely breathing so we called EMS and she's off to Bellevue. I'm afraid she's worse off than the one upstairs, so who knows." Officer Collings shook his head and took off his hat to wipe sweat from his forehead. A room that small with lights and CSU had to be unbearably hot, not to mention the fact it was a rape scene which would make any man sweat a little.

Rollins was taking notes that Fin would probably read later simply because her writing was easier to read. She looked up as if she was trying to put something together in her head. "Where's the guard that found her?"

"He's on the first floor with the head of University Police, trying to get camera footage for you guys. Two rapes in one day, everyone's hopping around to find something."

"Did he find the first one?" Rollins was trying to establish a pattern. Usually the first person to "discover" victims was the first suspect. If this guy found both, then they might have some kind of lead.

"Nah, I asked the guys upstairs and they mentioned the guard that found that one rode to the hospital with her. You know, you guys might want to talk to your people that worked that one."

Rollins smiled a sarcastic smile. She really hated when people tried to tell her how to do her job. Patrolmen were not detectives, and they sometimes got lucky, but she knew what to do. She looked to Fin and he just shook his head as if to tell her to drop the comment that was right on the tip of her tongue. No sense rocking the boat with the beat guys. They really helped make a case a lot of the time.

"Thank you so much, we'll let you know if we need any more help."

The detectives turned to walk back to the elevator to find the mysterious guard. As they left they head the officer sob a little. Rollins smiled inwardly, it was always good to know that she wasn't the only one who let this job get to her. The two stepped into the elevator and Fin turned to her , his face more grim than normal.

"Just what was the purpose of the conversation you wanted to get into back there?"

"What, I just have a problem with uni's trying to stick their noses where they haven't ever been. Of course we're going to talk to the other guys, our cases are linked. I'm just irritated."

"Hey, I know how you feel, but you can't let them get to you. Remember, if you upset them, then they may decide to clam up when it comes to details." He was right, and she knew that, but still, the fire of frustration burned in her and she wanted to yell.

They stepped off the elevator on the first floor to find a chubby, middle aged man standing at the front desk with an older woman in jeans and a sweater. Her red hair was pulled back in a rather messy style and she had no makeup on. It was clear she had dressed in a hurry and she wasn't happy to give up a night for something like this. But who really was happy in a situation like this? She looked up at the detectives as they approached.

"Detectives, I'm Molly Graham, the Special Victims Liaison for the university, and we are here to help you in any way necessary." She stood shaky and desperately trying to maintain composure. This was a major blow to the crime statistics they reported yearly, not to mention the possibility of lawsuits from the injured employees.

"I'm Detective Tutuola, this is my partner, Detective Rollins, and we understand you have some security footage for us?" Fin pushed through the awkward feelings to business. He was anxious to get things rolling. The sooner the found out what happened, the sooner they could get to finding this guy before he did more damage.

"Um, yes, we're downloading it to a disc for you now." She gestured to the man behind the desk, "I take you would like to speak to our guard here, Ronnie?"

The middle aged guard stepped towards the detectives looking a bit rattled and surprisingly nervous. His hands were shaking and he wiped his palms on his gray pants to dry the sweat there. Rollins noticed this and wondered if they guy was nervous about talking to them because he was guilty of the rape or if he was nervous because of something unrelated. It always struck her as interesting at how some people were naturally nervous about talking to the police even when they weren't guilty of any crime at all. The three walked over to couches near the front door and sat down. Fin on one side, Rollins on the other and the nervous guard in the middle.

"Tell us what happened," Rollins began, trying to sound soft and non-confrontational like she was taught. It was meant to establish trust and refrain from accusing until they had a reason to.

"Um, I came on at about 7 and I sat at the front until the early guy finished his rounds. We rotate to have someone up here at all times just in case a student goes crazy and tries to break in or something. Anyway, about 8, I get a call on the radio that the guy found that other girl on the 11th floor. I called the ambulance and you guys. Boss told us to check all the floors just to make sure no one was hiding out. I walked the 8th, and when I checked the Registrar's office, I found the door was open a bit, that's when I saw her…."

He began to tear up and his words were choked back. Fin and Rollins exchanged looks. If this guy was acting, then he deserved an Oscar, that scene had affected him and probably scarred him for life. The first time one sees a rape victim laying in the middle of the scene does something to the psyche. Ronnie cleared his throat and looked down at the floor, trying to regain some masculine sensibility, and then he looked to the detectives.

"Was she conscious? Did she say anything?" Finn continues with the interview saying nothing about the breakdown. It was understood that nothing would be said about Ronnie acting human.

"No, she was out, but I checked and she was breathing." Ronnie nodded and a relieved look crept across his face.

"Has anyone had any problems with the victim that you know of? Have you seen anyone hanging around the office or outside the building that shouldn't be?"

"I haven't seen anyone around the building, but I don't know about any problems, you'd have to ask the day guys or her sup for that one. Nothing much happens at night, we just kinda baby-sit the building and keep students out"

Rollins captured all this in her notes and nodded to Fin when she was done. This was all they could think to ask at this point. Evidence would point them in a better direction as it came in so they thanked Ronnie, gave them their business cards and requested he call them with any other problems. They took the disc with the security footage and left to talk to this new victim.