Details
I had watched Cara with growing pride, listening to her recite the intimate details of her attack and barely flinched. She was all grace, all composure. I suppose that's a big reason why I like her: I can see some part of myself in her, that critical, difficult nature that translates as strength. Yet the melancholy that long years had taught me was replaced in her with an easy sweetness and romantic view of the world that I long ago forced myself to forget.
She strode out of the interrogation room, Dr Huang behind her. Fin helped her into her coat because her shoulder was clearly aching. Did she glare at me? Was it possible that on top of hating me for breaking her heart, she also thought I should have been there that night to protect her? These same thoughts had been torturing me and chasing away sleep for days and I wanted to ask what she was thinking, but of course she didn't want to look at me but to cast daggers in my direction. Fin showed her out because I could not bring myself to do so.
"How is she?" I asked George what I could not voice to her.
"She's shaken up, but she's dealing well. Very pragmatic."
"And the perp?" Fin asked, sliding in the room.
George crossed his arms in front of him, pensively, and nodded. "He knows her."
"So he's a friend?" I asked, quickly, trying to think of any male friends of hers I might have met somewhere over the months and coming up with nothing.
"Maybe. Or acquaintance. But she doesn't have to know him for him to know her: maybe he just imagined a relationship with her. Either way, he fantasized about her for a long time beforehand. She said that when he touched her it was like a lover," he said. I really wanted to punch this guy, whoever he was. "And this attack was the only way he thought he could have her."
"He thought that tying her down and dislocating a shoulder was best way to be with a woman?"
"The only way," George corrected.
"Why didn't he just ask her out like a man?" Fin interjected, sounding a little like Elliott. It was still difficult for him to figure these guys out sometimes: it didn't just come down to addiction and money around the SVU.
"This is about controlling what he cannot have. Maybe he's in a relationship, or she turned him down at some point. Either way, he knew she had just broken up with a cop and that took away the risk. By the way, did we check him out?"
"I thought she was sure it wasn't the ex?" I said quickly. This was getting a little too close to home and I was anxious to guard myself against charges of impropriety, lest Cragen take me off the case.
"She was pretty sure he's too short, wrong color eyes, but she didn't make those connections until later. She may be remembering things wrong, or saying she does because she doesn't want it to be him. Do we have his name?"
"It's me," I said, at last. "We were together for six months until last week."
George's eyebrows lifted, and I saw him look at Fin for confirmation, but he let that go. "Okay. So find me a white guy, five-ten, brown eyes, with a major jones for this girl."
*~*~*~*
Benson and Stabler arrived about a quarter of an hour later, bearing plastic bags full of evidence and not much else. In one was the bloody twine, in another the bloody bedsheets, and in a third the pajamas she'd been wearing at the time - those I recognized all too well.
"And no genetic material of his but what he left inside her," Olivia commented, sounding very disappointed.
"Let's just be happy this guy forgot to use a condom," Elliott said. "Or we'd have nothing."
Something in the way Elliott said that made something move in my mind. "Wait a minute," I said, still working it out as I spoke. When she and I had been together, we almost never used a condom, relying on her diaphragm instead, preserving the tenderness of the moment. The tenderness . "Huang said the perp thought of himself as her lover, and that goes along with that theory. Was anything overturned in the apartment?" I asked, wishing now more than ever that I had been able to investigate.
"Just by her bed where the mattress hit it during the act," Olivia said from over a cup of coffee.
"This was his great coup d'etat, his big chance with her," I continued. "He must have taken a memento of the event. Fin or Olivia, call her and see if anything was missing from the bedside table."
"You call her," Fin said behind furrowed brows.
"She does not want to hear from me."
"She wouldn't know anyway," Olivia said. "She hasn't been home since it happened."
"And send the sheets to the lab: there's too much blood there to all be hers."
"Okay," Elliott said. "So keep our eyes out for some sort of souvenir from this attack. We do have one more thing to offer you two, though."
"Oh yeah," Olivia jumped in. "No sign of forced entry. He didn't even pick the lock."
"She said she was in bed when he came in," Fin said. His next breath would be to call her a liar, but in not so many words.
"She was," I stated, simply, knowing how Cara thinks, and anxious to cut Fin off. "She didn't let him in. He must have had a key."
"Who would have a key to the apartment?" Elliott asked.
"No one," I replied. "She and Shawn don't give out spare keys to anyone, for security reasons."
Everyone jumped in now, talking quickly and animatedly, but politely. "A lot of good it did them."
"Could it be a super?"
"It's worth a look."
"Did you talk to him already?"
"He let us in."
And as we stood there discussing the superintendent of her building, a short brunette came into the squadroom. "Excuse me," she said. None of us heard her. "Excuse me!"
I was the first to turn around. "Shawn?"
"John," she said. "We need to talk." Only then did I notice how worn out she looked, like she hadn't eaten nor slept since yesterday. I ushered her to my chair and took a seat on my desk.
"This is my partner, Detective Tutuola - you spoke with him on the phone yesterday - and these are Detectives Benson and Stabler." She looked at them all in turn, but was not deterred from her mission.
"I think I know who raped Cara," she said, looking me straight in the eye. The other three gathered around over my shoulder, I could feel, listening in intently. Her words were like someone grabbing me by the throat and pulling me towards her. She started to panic. "I didn't tell you about it because I didn't think he could have done it, you know? I wasn't trying to withhold anything, I just didn't want to keep you from finding the right guy by sending you down the wrong path. But it was the right path after all, at least, I think it was."
I said her name, soothingly, and took her hand. "Slow down. Take a deep breath. Who do you think did this to Cara?" I asked, already getting an idea and starting to dread hearing the words.
She looked at me, the thought that it wasn't too late to take back her offer running through her head. "My boyfriend, Brian."
He fit, of course. He knew her, had spent the night at her apartment at least as many times as I had, and Shawn had been the only one to corroborate his alibi. He even had brown eyes. But why hadn't Cara put that together for herself?
"Why do you think it was your boyfriend?" Olivia asked.
"Well . Matt called after their date, said he was at a bar and needed a ride home, so Brian went out at like twelve-thirty, but he didn't come back until almost three. I was kind of asleep, but I heard him come in. I didn't think anything of it, and I went to the hospital when you guys called me. But then, I realized that my keys weren't in my purse. I always put them in my purse. Brian had to let me back in his apartment, and there they were, on his kitchen counter. I thought I had just been careless."
With that, she broke into tears. Opportunity, keys . I tried to comfort her, tried to put on that passive detective face, but I couldn't seem to manage it. "Where does he live?"
She gave me the address and I swept out of the squadroom, barely remembering to grab my coat and hat and partner. I had to find the ADA and get an arrest warrant.
I had watched Cara with growing pride, listening to her recite the intimate details of her attack and barely flinched. She was all grace, all composure. I suppose that's a big reason why I like her: I can see some part of myself in her, that critical, difficult nature that translates as strength. Yet the melancholy that long years had taught me was replaced in her with an easy sweetness and romantic view of the world that I long ago forced myself to forget.
She strode out of the interrogation room, Dr Huang behind her. Fin helped her into her coat because her shoulder was clearly aching. Did she glare at me? Was it possible that on top of hating me for breaking her heart, she also thought I should have been there that night to protect her? These same thoughts had been torturing me and chasing away sleep for days and I wanted to ask what she was thinking, but of course she didn't want to look at me but to cast daggers in my direction. Fin showed her out because I could not bring myself to do so.
"How is she?" I asked George what I could not voice to her.
"She's shaken up, but she's dealing well. Very pragmatic."
"And the perp?" Fin asked, sliding in the room.
George crossed his arms in front of him, pensively, and nodded. "He knows her."
"So he's a friend?" I asked, quickly, trying to think of any male friends of hers I might have met somewhere over the months and coming up with nothing.
"Maybe. Or acquaintance. But she doesn't have to know him for him to know her: maybe he just imagined a relationship with her. Either way, he fantasized about her for a long time beforehand. She said that when he touched her it was like a lover," he said. I really wanted to punch this guy, whoever he was. "And this attack was the only way he thought he could have her."
"He thought that tying her down and dislocating a shoulder was best way to be with a woman?"
"The only way," George corrected.
"Why didn't he just ask her out like a man?" Fin interjected, sounding a little like Elliott. It was still difficult for him to figure these guys out sometimes: it didn't just come down to addiction and money around the SVU.
"This is about controlling what he cannot have. Maybe he's in a relationship, or she turned him down at some point. Either way, he knew she had just broken up with a cop and that took away the risk. By the way, did we check him out?"
"I thought she was sure it wasn't the ex?" I said quickly. This was getting a little too close to home and I was anxious to guard myself against charges of impropriety, lest Cragen take me off the case.
"She was pretty sure he's too short, wrong color eyes, but she didn't make those connections until later. She may be remembering things wrong, or saying she does because she doesn't want it to be him. Do we have his name?"
"It's me," I said, at last. "We were together for six months until last week."
George's eyebrows lifted, and I saw him look at Fin for confirmation, but he let that go. "Okay. So find me a white guy, five-ten, brown eyes, with a major jones for this girl."
*~*~*~*
Benson and Stabler arrived about a quarter of an hour later, bearing plastic bags full of evidence and not much else. In one was the bloody twine, in another the bloody bedsheets, and in a third the pajamas she'd been wearing at the time - those I recognized all too well.
"And no genetic material of his but what he left inside her," Olivia commented, sounding very disappointed.
"Let's just be happy this guy forgot to use a condom," Elliott said. "Or we'd have nothing."
Something in the way Elliott said that made something move in my mind. "Wait a minute," I said, still working it out as I spoke. When she and I had been together, we almost never used a condom, relying on her diaphragm instead, preserving the tenderness of the moment. The tenderness . "Huang said the perp thought of himself as her lover, and that goes along with that theory. Was anything overturned in the apartment?" I asked, wishing now more than ever that I had been able to investigate.
"Just by her bed where the mattress hit it during the act," Olivia said from over a cup of coffee.
"This was his great coup d'etat, his big chance with her," I continued. "He must have taken a memento of the event. Fin or Olivia, call her and see if anything was missing from the bedside table."
"You call her," Fin said behind furrowed brows.
"She does not want to hear from me."
"She wouldn't know anyway," Olivia said. "She hasn't been home since it happened."
"And send the sheets to the lab: there's too much blood there to all be hers."
"Okay," Elliott said. "So keep our eyes out for some sort of souvenir from this attack. We do have one more thing to offer you two, though."
"Oh yeah," Olivia jumped in. "No sign of forced entry. He didn't even pick the lock."
"She said she was in bed when he came in," Fin said. His next breath would be to call her a liar, but in not so many words.
"She was," I stated, simply, knowing how Cara thinks, and anxious to cut Fin off. "She didn't let him in. He must have had a key."
"Who would have a key to the apartment?" Elliott asked.
"No one," I replied. "She and Shawn don't give out spare keys to anyone, for security reasons."
Everyone jumped in now, talking quickly and animatedly, but politely. "A lot of good it did them."
"Could it be a super?"
"It's worth a look."
"Did you talk to him already?"
"He let us in."
And as we stood there discussing the superintendent of her building, a short brunette came into the squadroom. "Excuse me," she said. None of us heard her. "Excuse me!"
I was the first to turn around. "Shawn?"
"John," she said. "We need to talk." Only then did I notice how worn out she looked, like she hadn't eaten nor slept since yesterday. I ushered her to my chair and took a seat on my desk.
"This is my partner, Detective Tutuola - you spoke with him on the phone yesterday - and these are Detectives Benson and Stabler." She looked at them all in turn, but was not deterred from her mission.
"I think I know who raped Cara," she said, looking me straight in the eye. The other three gathered around over my shoulder, I could feel, listening in intently. Her words were like someone grabbing me by the throat and pulling me towards her. She started to panic. "I didn't tell you about it because I didn't think he could have done it, you know? I wasn't trying to withhold anything, I just didn't want to keep you from finding the right guy by sending you down the wrong path. But it was the right path after all, at least, I think it was."
I said her name, soothingly, and took her hand. "Slow down. Take a deep breath. Who do you think did this to Cara?" I asked, already getting an idea and starting to dread hearing the words.
She looked at me, the thought that it wasn't too late to take back her offer running through her head. "My boyfriend, Brian."
He fit, of course. He knew her, had spent the night at her apartment at least as many times as I had, and Shawn had been the only one to corroborate his alibi. He even had brown eyes. But why hadn't Cara put that together for herself?
"Why do you think it was your boyfriend?" Olivia asked.
"Well . Matt called after their date, said he was at a bar and needed a ride home, so Brian went out at like twelve-thirty, but he didn't come back until almost three. I was kind of asleep, but I heard him come in. I didn't think anything of it, and I went to the hospital when you guys called me. But then, I realized that my keys weren't in my purse. I always put them in my purse. Brian had to let me back in his apartment, and there they were, on his kitchen counter. I thought I had just been careless."
With that, she broke into tears. Opportunity, keys . I tried to comfort her, tried to put on that passive detective face, but I couldn't seem to manage it. "Where does he live?"
She gave me the address and I swept out of the squadroom, barely remembering to grab my coat and hat and partner. I had to find the ADA and get an arrest warrant.