Chapter Nine
Monday
8:53 am
NYPD Crime Lab
Manhattan, NYC
"Hey boss," Adam caught Mack on his way in to the office. "I worked the Saturday shift and kept digging through the protected files on that server, and I found these." He led Mack back to the computer room, where he showed him a series of stills of Hannah. Each had a copy of the NY Times in the corner. Each was just That Bad. "The dates start two weeks after the last time that other computer logged in and continued to the week before the raid. And the thing is the record showed that these were not accessed electronically."
"So why take them? Unless…" Mack thought a moment. "Lindsey theorized that Hannah comes from an area too rural for indoor plumbing. That could mean too rural for internet access too. So maybe they printed them out and dropped them in the mail. Once the laptop owner disappeared they started sending them to someone else in her family; which means that somewhere out there someone hasn't gotten an update in a few weeks, someone who cared enough that these pictures could be used to blackmail them. But we still haven't heard anything. Why?"
"Mmmm, I don't know." Adam hated saying that in front of Mack. It showed. "But I was thinking of something else. You know that snuff film they had in there? Well, we've been assuming that one of the gang killed Samantha Collins; how do we know for sure?"
Mack sighed. Adam was right. He just hadn't wanted to think about that. "We ask the witness."
Monday
9:20 am
NYPD Crime Lab
Manhattan, NYC
"Yeah, Mack. I'll go get her. But I want to be the one who does the asking." Flack's heart was breaking, even though he didn't let any of it show.
"No Don," Mack stepped into his office, motioned to Flack to close the door. "Look, I can tell, you're starting to have feelings for her, aren't you?"
Oy, Flack thought, not realizing he was turning color. "It is that obvious?"
"A little," Mack smiled. He wanted his friend happy, and this was clearly the happiest he'd been since they lost Jess. "I don't have to remind you that we don't know anything about her, where she's from, or how she's involved. And I don't have to remind you that she's still fragile from what happened. We found four years worth of images of her in that server, that's going to take a long time to deal with."
"Oh, Mack, come on! I've been a perfect gentleman. You know me better than that!" For a moment Flack was offended, but he knew his friend was just being, well, parental. "It's just, she's a good person, you know? She's smart, she's funny and she's a great listener. I dunno, there's just something about her." Flack had to admit, if only to himself, that the best part of the day anymore was going home to her. "Ya know, I took her to the Y with me the other day. Now she's teaching some of the girls there how to knit socks."
Mack chuckled. "It sounds like she's settling in well. But I don't need some defense attorney coming back and saying her boyfriend tampered with the investigation. You're too close now. You can keep working to find her family, but I'm taking you off the gang case."
Flack sighed, loudly. "All right, Mack, but you know, she might not know that those files exist. So, just, go gently when you ask her, okay?"
"She had to have known the cameras were in there. She looked right at them several times."
"Yeah, but she knows nothing about technology. She probably didn't know that they were recording what was happening for posterity."
"Good point," Mack nodded. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle."
Monday
11:48 am
NYPD Crime Lab
Manhattan, NYC
Hannah followed Mack into one of the interrogation rooms, while Flack and Danny watched through the window.
"Hannah, I need you to look at something." Mack turned his laptop to face her. He was using ASL as he talked, more than just charade gestures. He knew Flack had talked to the ASL translator for the department, but it was thought that she had to understand more English before ASL classes would help. By then she might have the surgery, and then the classes wouldn't be needed.
Hannah looked at the screen, then her eyes widened. She pointed to the screen with a shocked look, then to herself. "Yes, that's you." Then she turned bright red, covered her mouth and looked away, clearly ashamed by what she saw. "No Hannah, it's all right. You're the victim in all this. You have nothing to be ashamed of. You have nothing to be ashamed of." Mack didn't know if she understood, but at least she looked back at him, even though she was clearly deeply distressed. "Now, in this one." He turned to the snuff film. "The man with the gun," he made the gesture, and then pulled the morgue photos of the gang out of a file, "Is the man with the gun one of these men?"
She pointed to the video and made the gesture like a gun as she looked over the photos, then shook her head. If she understood correctly, then the shooter had not been taken down in the raid. A murderer was still out there.
"Do you remember anything about him? Was he tall, short? Can you give a description…well, no, you can't," Mack sighed. What he wouldn't give for a translator. Hannah was clearly thinking, however. She pointed to the video again, made the gun motion, then picked up a pencil and made drawing motions over her hands.
"What are you…drawings, on his hands?" Mack spun the laptop around and booted another file. "Tattoos, like this?" She looked at the pictures and nodded. "Do you remember the tattoos?" She nodded, fairly confidently. "Okay, I want you to look at these, find the ones he had. Danny will come help you."
She grabbed his arm before he left. She pointed out toward the building, waved her hand like she was referring to someone tall. "Don," Mack guessed, and she nodded. Then she pointed out toward the building, pointed to her eyes, and pointed to the laptop. "Did Don see those?" Mack spoke as he repeated her gestures. She thought a moment, and then nodded. "No, Don did not see those. Don will never see those." Mack crossed his heart, "Promise."
Mack stepped outside the interrogation room, where the other two men were waiting. "Danny, go see if she can map out this guys tattoos. Hopefully we can identify him that way."
As Danny left Flack stepped up. "Mack, if she can't tell me and I can't see what happened to her, how am I supposed to know how to help her?"
"By remembering you're a boyfriend in all this now, not a cop." Mack looked back to where Hannah and Danny were getting to work. "And like every other man who's had someone he loved hurt, you'll have to let her tell you in her own time. Giving her the control of that is part of the healing."
"Yea, I guess. It's just frustrating, ya know?"
"I know. If you want to talk about it, you know where to find me."
Monday
3:33 pm
NYPD Crime Lab
Manhattan, NYC
"We got a hit." With Danny's help, Hannah had identified many of the tattoos on the man she had seen. As they were identifying marks, they were logged into the database. Danny had run that particular combination, and the computer gave back a file.
"Victor Porchenko, age 36, originally from Vladivostok," Danny went on to read the rest of the file, a list of petty, mostly gang and drug related crimes. "About six years ago he dropped out of sight. I'm guessing he found a way to farm out the risk, and get his rocks off doing it."
"Russian mob," Mack came up behind him. "They play rough."
"The tats fit. Looks like he's been working his way up in the family. No one's ever been able to get him on anything major."
"Kidnapping, torture, and first degree murder is pretty major. I'd bet that's why his men were ordered to kill all the girls, to eliminate the witnesses. Good thing he doesn't know they left one behind."
Danny chuckled. "Yeah, and for now she's safe. I'll warn Flack to be careful, not like he's not already playing guard dog around her. And I'll check with the mob boys, see what they know about him."
"Great, thanks Danny."
Monday
6:32 PM
Don Flack's apartment
Somewhere in NYC
"Okay, we need to talk." Hannah was never good walking around the city. She tended to walk with her arms wrapped around her, shying away from people, even as she tried to look in windows and at buildings as they passed. But on this commute it had been ten times worse. He couldn't even get her to look at him.
"Come here," he gently dragged her over to the sofa, and then knelt in front of her. "I did not see what was on the screen. I did not, I swear. And I don't care about what was on the screen." He gestured as he spoke, making pushing away gestures at the TV. "I see you, okay, I see you. I see someone who…" he made a gesture like he was knitting, and then picked up the half finished sweater that was just Lucy's size. "..has some amazing skills. I see an incredible cook. I see someone who is so smart, I can't believe it. I see someone who is strong enough to survive. I see someone so beautiful." He sighed and shook his head. "I see you. That's all. I see you."
He didn't know if she understood any of it at all, but the look on her face softened until she was near tears. Then she leaned over, and gently kissed him on the cheek, right there. When she pulled back and looked at him he knew; he saw it in her eyes.
She was falling in love too.
"How the hell did life get so complicated, huh?" He didn't bother to gesture that one. Instead he just took her hand. "Come on, let's go get some dinner. It won't be as good as yours." He held her hand as they went out the door, and the rest of the way.
