Stabler Residence, 11:30PM
Stabler Residence, 11:30PM
A brooding Elliot Stabler paced in the living room, holding a dozing Eli on his shoulder while recalling further dismal events. First, Elizabeth had, through Kathy, refused her favorite dinner, mushroom and sausage pizza. Second, whenever he'd gone to use the bathroom, he had seen signs of a recent shower. Finally, after mechanically eating supper and sitting around the living room and kitchen staring at various walls (except when Eli required attention), everybody, one by one, had gone to bed, though Elliot doubted that anyone was actually sleeping.
Especially Elizabeth--insomnia's not uncommon after a rape--
Elliot grimaced, fighting to stay calm lest he wake Eli. I've got to hold it together! I have to help Elizabeth get through this! But his muscles tensed with a building internal furor--
After carefully laying his son in the nearby bassinet, Elliot hurried into the kitchen and snatched a beer from the refrigerator. But as he hastily swallowed, he couldn't stop his thoughts of frustration: My child was violated by some freakin' scrum of a pervert, and I wasn't there to stop him!! My daughter, my baby Elizabeth is hurting in the worse possible way, and I can't take away her pain! With an anguished sigh, Elliot sat down at the kitchen table, set his bottle on the table and buried his face in his hands.
This just isn't right! I've busted who-knows-how-many molesters, rapists and killers, but I can't protect my own daughter! What kind of freakin' father am I?!
"A failure!!" He almost heard his father's voice in the reflexive flashback.
"Shut up. Shut up," he whispered through clenched teeth. He put the bottle to his lips and drained it. Then, after hastily disposing the container in the recycling basket, he was opening the refrigerator to take another beer when he heard the baby cry. Grabbing a different bottle this time, he nuked it for 15 seconds before taking it to his youngest.
At least I can do this right, he thought acerbically as Eli contentedly took his nourishment.
Meanwhile, having completed her showers and changed into soft red and blue pajamas, Elizabeth lay in bed curled in a tight fetal position, her back against the wall. In the midst of her sleeplessness were a number of torturing concerns. First, where were her glasses? She had a spare pair, but for some reason the loss seemed very important to her.
Her second worry was more troubling. She should have called the hospital when she had vomited less than two hours after taking the 'morning after' pill--Dr. Peck had said so when explaining the aftercare instructions. But having made the loathsome choice before, she wasn't up to making it again. That evening she had taken a hard journey down a very dark passage that she didn't wish to travel again--ever. She had been subjected to physical abuse, sexual violations, invasive examinations, and difficult questions. Now she just wanted to stay home and not think about the horrible events of the day. She didn't want to go back to the hospital--where she had gone because she had been raped--and tell personnel that she had been raped--to get another disapproved pill because she had been raped--
Nooo!! No! She pressed clenched fists against her tightly closed eyes. No more doctors, no more hospitals, no more exams, no more doctors, no more hospitals, no more tests, no more no more no more no more--
She didn't try to stop the tears that leaked from her eyes. She just kept as quiet as possible so that Kathleen wouldn't come up from the lower bunk and comfort her. For the moment, Elizabeth didn't want to be touched for any reason.
Meanwhile, at One Police Plaza, Detective Michael Logan and his partner, Detective Nola Falacci, having been briefed by Captain Ross, joined Goren in the bullpen.
"So, do you have any leads on this creep so far?" asked Falacci, who was the mother of three.
"Well, Alex found a case in Brooklyn about six months ago," Goren replied, standing up. "She's getting the full report faxed in."
"What happened?" Logan wanted to know.
"A sixteen-year-old girl was assaulted in her foster mother's apartment," Goren answered. "The perp was a so-called repairman supposedly sent by the landlord. He was describe to have been in his twenties, around five foot six, muscular build, one blue eye, one brown eye, but he had short wavy dark hair."
"So he could have dyed it this time," Nola said crisply.
"DNA will tell us for sure," Goren said.
Just then, Eames returned with a folder of faxed information. After greeting Logan and Falacci, she said: "I just got off the phone with the lab. They say that they should be able to give us all of their findings--including the two cases' DNA comparison--by morning."
"Then I guess they're going overtime with this," said Logan. "Good--if he is our guy."
"Seems like a likely suspect," Alex said, handing Michael the folder. "In addition to the description, the MO's are similar, as are the victims in terms of age and gender."
Bobby looked pensive. "How old is the foster mother?" he inquired.
Logan leafed through several papers. "She's 63, why?"
"Elizabeth Stabler was attacked in her grandmother's home," answered Goren. "And she said that the man was 'surprised' to see her." He snapped his fingers and asked quickly: "Does the crime scene information have anything about the foster mother's picture?"
Logan raised a puzzled eyebrow but put the folder on Eame's desk to search for C.S.U. results, while Falacci said: "What's that all about?"
"A photo portrait of Mrs. Maynard was found next to the pillow on the bed," explained the tall detective. "It could be a signature--"
"Got it!" Logan cut in, looking at a paper. "Except the picture frame was found broken on the floor beside the bed. But fingerprints and an impression on the opposite wall suggested that the picture was thrown."
"Whose prints?" Bobby inquired.
Reading more, Logan replied, "The vic's, Veronica Robinson."
"Then she must have picked it up from its place next to the pillow and thrown it against the wall!" concluded Falacci.
"If you're all standing around, that means you've made some progress." Captain Ross was moving towards them.
After they had apprised him, he said, "It's possible that we have someone--who's definitely not wearing color contacts--targeting elderly women but taking the opportunity to assault teenage girls. For tonight, research rapes involving teen girls as well as those with elderly female victims. Tomorrow Eames and Goren will talk to Miss Stabler again--ask her about the guy's age and any other details that she can remember. Logan and Falacci will ask Miss Robinson to confirm the position of the picture before it was thrown. We don't want a defense attorney to have a chance at any acquittals."
"Yes, sir," said Nola, while the others nodded.
"And remember, everybody: don't accept any offers for "help," and don't give any information out to anyone, especially Elliot Stabler!"
.
