Chapter 4: Fixing the Dumbwaiter

"You know what I just realized?" Jennifer asked Eliot, looking over at him.

"What?"

"Jonathan never told us what he saw."

"What, do you think he's holding out information on us?"

"I don't know. Did we get an address for him?" Jennifer was still staring at Eliot, who then grimaced.

"No, but we can have Lou run a search for us. If he's hiding, he won't be for long." Eliot turned the key in the ignition and sped off with Jennifer toward the Precinct.

When they arrived, they immediately went over to Lou to request a scan of the state for Jonathan Keanan. He typed in the name and hit enter. Sitting back in his chair, he sighed.

"What's this going to show?" Jennifer asked. "When I was here fourteen years ago, we didn't have this!" Lou looked up at her and pointed at the screen.

"I've entered his name to search the database across the country for his current location. Although it's not like he has a 'chip' in him or anything, we can track where his last currency transactions have been made to and from." Jennifer nodded and watched as lines passed over the world map on the screen. After a few moments, the computer started beeping and zoomed in on Long Island.

"Eliot, look-" Jennifer gasped, poking his shoulder. "The Suffolk County bank … How far a drive is that from here?" came her question for Lou, who shrugged his shoulders and answered,

"About an hour. But the last withdrawal was this afternoon, nearly sixty minutes before he arrived here. He could be long gone by now."

"Can't you track where his credit card is?" The technology nerd looked up at her, incredulous.

"No," he said slowly, obviously assailing her intelligence, "What do you think this is, science fiction?"

"Of course not, but with all your computers and doo-dads and all those things, I'd assume you'd have a credit card tra-"

"But we don't, so you should probably go follow Eliot." Jennifer spun and saw Eliot's back disappearing out the doors of the Precinct.

"Damn it all …" She raced out of the office, running into Olivia.

"Jennifer," she said tersely.

"Olivia," Jennifer responded, ducking around her and after Eliot. "Jesus, Stabler, slow the hell down!"

"We don't have that much time, Detective," he shouted over his shoulder as he hopped into the police car. "We have to get to First National A.S.A.P." Jennifer whipped open the car door and sat down just as Eliot began to pull away.

"Nothing like waiting for your partner to actually get in the car," she said snidely.

"Nothing like waiting for your partner to arrive at the car," Eliot responded, taking the first left he came to. "If we don't get there as soon as we can, Jon Keanan could-"

"Why does he have a different last name?" Jennifer interrupted. "If he's Elizabeth Jennings' brother, shouldn't they have the same surname?"

"Half sister?"

"Half brother?"

"Jennings was married? Or the parents got divorced, and with her mother, she took the maiden name?"

"No, they were together throughout childhood, according to Jon." Jennifer looked out the window and listened to Eliot's reasoning.

"But if the parents got divorced when she was out of high school, Jennings could have been bitter at her father, and therefore took her mother's maiden name to separate herself from the paternal side of the family."

"Yet, if they had been out of high school, they could have just moved away and cut off communication. Surname change would have been unnecessary," she pointed out, looking back at Eliot's face.

"True, but with teenage females, decisions aren't impulsive, they're well thought out. Jennings could've simply found hatred with her father over a long period of time and decided that she had 'suffered' enough."

"Maybe he knows what's going on?"

"Let's look him up later; right now, we've got a thirty minute drive to Long Island to deal with."

"N.Y.P.D., nobody move!" Eliot shouted, holding out his badge for those inside the bank to see. Jennifer mimicked his actions and followed him to the front desk.

"If anyone leaves, there will be witnesses," she warned, placing herself at the one entrance.

"Excuse me, Detective, but what exactly are you doing here?" a middle-aged, British man asked tentatively. He neared her and she could examine his façade more clearly.

He was wearing a red baseball cap the same color of his sweatshirt, with a pair of slightly faded, dark-wash jeans. His sneakers looked new, and his hazel eyes appeared friendly, but almost guarded, in a way. He extended a polite hand for her to shake, but she refused.

"We're investigating a rape and kidnapping case," came her stiff reply, returning to her protective stance in front of the door.

"Who are you looking for around here?"

"Jonathan Keanan; you know him?" When he jumped in a sort of mental anguish, she looked over at him, an obviously not amused expression gracing her soft features.

"He's not here. You've mistaken him for someone else. He's … he's … well, he can't be …"

"And how would you know this?"

"Detective …" The man paused, "Jon Keanan is my son."

"How long did Elizabeth stay around before leaving home, Mark?" Eliot asked, swinging a seat around and straddling the back of it, resting his hands on the upper rim.

"She stayed until exactly two days after her eighteenth birthday. She had graduated the year before and used the excuse of her leaving something along the lines of, 'I need to leave this country, and re-associate myself with my heritage,'" he explained, mimicking a girl's voice poorly. Jennifer walked in, Olivia close behind, and they too sat facing Mark.

"Olivia?" Eliot questioned softly. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm helping out on the case. Captain gave me permission after Strait asked me to."

"I thought you-"

"We're done with that. Party tonight; Novak won her very last case."

"Where's she going?" Mark asked, changing the subject.

"Away," Eliot responded tersely, spinning back around to face his witness. "Now, Mark, I'd like you to tell us everything you know about Elizabeth, starting with the basics."

"She's a beautiful girl; always looked exactly like her mother. Black hair, dark blue eyes, nice figure …" Eliot raised his eyebrows. "No, don't get the wrong idea. I would never do something so grotesque to my own daughter." Mark's voice rose in self-defense and he glared at all three detectives angrily.

"Don't get offended, now, your wording just surprised us," Jennifer muttered, taking the stack of papers out of Eliot's hands. "Mark, can you remember if there were any instances where your daughter threatened to run away from home?" At Mark's shocked expression, Eliot prompted,

"Did she ever get more than a little angry at you? Did she ever tell you she hated you or that you'd be sorry one day when she was gone?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Detectives." After a long, considering pause, he added, "I never had a daughter."

After Mark's confession, Jennifer and Eliot were truly stumped. Even Olivia, who had gone into this case with open eyes, and an equally open mind, couldn't figure out why Jonathan had lied about Elizabeth's relation to him.

"Is there any way we could get a warrant to search his apartment?" Olivia asked Jennifer as they sat down in the office. "Do you think he's realized by now that we bought his line of bull?"

Jennifer shook her head in disappointment. "He himself didn't do anything that would warrant a search. The judge would never allow it on hearsay. Unless we could get a note, a written admittance, a birth certificate …"

"We're screwed. They were born in England; they came over here when they were young children. How would we ever get the birth certificates in time?"

"DNA?" Olivia suggested.

"We don't have a body to compare DNA with," Jennifer differed, "But we could go to Elizabeth's mum's house and take a gander at what's in store there."

"And since when are you British?"

"That's a long story. Anyway … Let's get moving."

"So, Mrs. Jennings, you don't have a daughter?" The woman shook her head and gave them an inquiring look.

"Where did you hear that I did?" Jennifer sent Eliot a glare that clearly said, Either I've gone insane, or this woman's not British. Eliot nodded in agreement.

"According to your son, Elizabeth Jennings is missing."

"Ahh … But, as you know, I don't have a daughter, so I must bid you good day."

"Yes, Mrs. Jennings. We're sorry for disturbing you." The three detectives made their way to the door, preparing to leave.

"No, no, that's quite okay, I was just emailing my sister in England. She moved back the same year I moved here. I haven't talked to her in weeks."

"Sister …? What's your sister's name?" Olivia questioned, taking out her notepad.

"Linda … but what does this have to do with anything?"

"Does your sister have a daughter, Mrs. Jennings?"

"Yes … But I'm not sure where she is right now … I've used up my international calling card; I haven't called her in weeks, like I suppose I've already said. Has Elizabeth done something distasteful with the government?"

"No, Mrs. Jennings; someone else has, and we're trying to find him, or her."

"Who? Who did what?"

"Ma'am, someone raped Elizabeth, and then kidnapped her." As Eliot noticed Mrs. Jennings grow more and more concerned, he interjected kindly, "But we're doing everything we can to find your niece."

The woman sunk down onto the sofa and buried her face in her hands. She murmured words like, "Why," and, "She's never done anything to hurt anyone," and, "She was perfect." Jennifer's heart almost broke watching her.

"Don't worry, ma'am, we're going to find Elizabeth Jennings, no matter what it takes, and she will be alive." Mrs. Jennings looked up, confused.

"Jennings?" She shook her head. "Oh, no, no, no, Lizzie's last name is Peters."

"Peters?"

"Yes, 'Peters.' Just as my sister's last name is Peters. And my maiden name."

"Mrs. Jennings … do you have a son?"

"Why, he's only seven. I doubt he'd have any part in this."

"Then do you know a Jonathan Keanan?"

Mrs. Jennings nodded, remembering. "I recall when Elizabeth would call me at midnight every night - it was only seven o'clock here, you know - sobbing because a 'Jon Keanan' would humiliate her every day, and she didn't understand why." After a short pause, in which she shook her head regretfully, she continued, "The calls stopped after she turned eighteen. It hurt for me, because she was my favorite niece, and I knew I was her favorite aunt."

"Thank you for your time, ma'am. We'll keep you updated as we find information."

"Why would Jon lie about the name?" Jennifer inquired, looking back in the direction of the house.

Olivia chuckled, prompting Eliot to answer, "Why do kids lie about taking cookies out of the cookie jar before dinner?"

"He didn't want to get in trouble?"

"No, he wanted to keep his cookies. Let's go find this loser."

"Can't we talk to Sam first? I don't feel right about this; there's so much in the law about having to have evidence, not just hearsay … and-"

"If there's blockades in our way, we're just going to have to find loopholes, aren't we?"

Olivia shrugged her shoulders, laughing, while Eliot kept driving. "Besides, Detective Strait, you might just find yourself having fun interrogating the poor son-of-a-bitch." Jennifer giggled, but still tried to maintain her usual poker-face.

She didn't want Eliot to see he'd broken down the walls between them. That would just lead to problems.