Law and Order: SATC

For the past week I had been living in a state of perpetual fright. Like a child I had clung to Erik for strength, and I had cut myself off from the rest of my once beloved city.

But watching two detectives drag my husband away shocked me back to my senses. This all seemed so hard; Mark, the attack, now poor Erik…I guess happily ever after is just a fairy tale after all.

Erik sat miserably in the back of the squad car. This was impossible he kept repeating to himself. He knew he might have hurt Mark Berry, but he was damn sure he had left him alive.

The only thing that kept running through his mind was that I might not believe that he was innocent. I had kept the fact that Mark was making aggressive advances towards me a secret because I feared how Erik would respond. There wasn't a worse response that murder. But he hadn't done it! Not this time!

I followed the police car to the station in a cab. My face was set and determined. Erik would go home free tonight with an apology if it meant shoving my Jimmy Choo shoe up someone's rear end.

At the station they brought him into an interrogating room. I made to enter behind them when detective Hargitay stopped me, "Mrs. Duval if you could just wait outside--?"

"I'm acting as my husband's attorney," I said icily.

"Mrs. Duval I think that given your recent trauma that it would be a bad idea to--"

I cut her off, "I am not in a position to care what you think, now let's get this over with so we can all go home,"

When we were seated, Erik and I on one side of the table and the two detectives on the other, I began my line of questioning, "Now, what evidence do you have to link my husband with the murder of Mark Berry?"

"Maybe you should ask him," Detective Meloni said coolly. Alright, so he is playing the bad cop.

"I admit, I went to Berry's apartment today, but I didn't kill him! I swear when I left he was alive," Erik insisted.

"The medical examiner puts the time of death at a little after noon, and we have the security camera showing you leaving only moments after," Detective Hargitay said, "Explain that,"

"Someone else was in the room!" Erik cried suddenly, "I saw them, someone was in the bathroom!"

"Someone was in the bathroom? That's awfully convenient," Detective Meloni spoke, clearly not believing a word Erik had said.

"Listen I understand," Detective Hargitay said in a kinder tone, "He was following your wife; threatening your home…you just wanted him to stop,"

"Yes!" Erik cried.

Quickly I put my hand on his leg and gave him a sidelong warning look. I didn't want him to get carried away and fall into a trap.

Erik took a deep breath and began again, "I did want him to stop, I wanted him to leave Olivia alone,"

"And so you went to his apartment," Detective Hargitay supplied for him.

"Yes,"

"And then things get out of hand, you argue, you shoot," Detective Meloni finished.

"No! I never shot anyone!" Erik insisted, "Yes I was angry, and I admit that I hit him, but I never shot him!"

"Wait," I decided to put an end to this line of questions before it got out of hand, "Besides the surveillance cameras, do you have any other proof that my husband is a murdered? Because so far you have put him at the scene but you haven't put the gun in his hand,"

"We have him in the apartment at the time of the crime, motive, and the impression of his knuckles on the side of the victim's face…how much more do you think a jury is going to need?" Detective Meloni asked.

I narrowed my eyes, "Admirable effort detective, but I was an ADA once; I know all your tricks and all your rules so if you want to arrest my husband than I know, and you know, you have to do better than that," What I also knew was that the detective had a point. The video would show Erik coming and going and show at what time. They could prove that he was there at the scene of the crime. It would be hard for others to believe that someone else with the motive to murder Mark Berry was in the building at the exact same time.

There was a knock on the door and detective Meloni left for a moment. When he came back he spoke to Erik,

"Mr. Duval why don't you tell us exactly what happened today,"

Erik looked at me and I nodded. The truth couldn't hurt, as long as Erik stuck to it.

"I went home because I had left a blueprint there that I needed for work," Erik explained carefully, "I found a note for Olivia and I opened it, it was from Mark," Erik's face drew in an angry expression but he still controlled his voice, "I'll admit it angered me, Olivia had been telling me about his advances toward her, even after we were married! And she was feeling v-" Erik stopped. I knew he was planning on saying that I had been feeling vulnerable, but suddenly decided that telling detectives his lawyer was scared of the dark would be a bad idea. He put it a different way.

"Olivia wasn't happy with the situation," Erik said diplomatically, "So I decided to talk to him. I found his address and went to his apartment. He opened the door for me," Erik thought back to that afternoon, "We argued about Olivia…I just wanted him to leave her alone! I hit him and he fell on the floor, that's when I left,"

The detectives stared blank faced at him. They did a good job of hiding any emotion or thought, but I could tell something was going on. Detective Meloni had been told something. If it was good or bad for us I did not know.

"And the person in the bathroom? You never saw who that was?" Detective Meloni asked.

"No, but I am sure someone was in there, I saw their shadow under the door," Erik said quickly.

I had been given a file of the reports of the case so far when we entered the room. I was leafing through it; medical reports stating that Mark had been killed by a shot to the back of the head. Photos of the scene that made me a little sick and I quickly skipped over them. And then something caught my eye.

In most investigations the bathroom is thoroughly examined. When someone wants to clean up after a crime they generally head to the bathroom. A sample had been taken from the toilet of all places but the results had not come back yet. My guess was that Detective Meloni had been told what those results were.

"Detectives can you prove definitively that my husband shot Mark Berry?" I asked bluntly.

"We can place him in the apartment, and we have his statement that he attacked the victim," Detective Hargitay said.

They had made a mistake and they knew it as much as I did. I could see their reasoning; Erik had an amazing motive and was defiantly at the apartment just before it happened. Most likely they had been expecting a confession. But they had jumped on him too quickly; they didn't have what they needed.

"But you can't put the gun in his hand," I said. Then I had a thought; the gun. I looked back at the file, "Did you find the gun?" And then there it was in the report, "Mark was shot with his own gun? I didn't even know he had a gun,"

"So once you were in the apartment," Detective Hargitay decided to speak to Erik, "You were arguing and there was a struggle…Berry took out the gun and you fought for it and than it went off…is that how it happened?"

She still believed that Erik was guilty and was now trying to get him to admit that even though it was an accident, Erik had shot him. But I was no fool; a shot to the back of the head was hardly a defensive strike. If Erik admitted that he did shoot Mark, it would later be proved that it couldn't have happened in a fight for the gun.

"We didn't fight for a gun! There was no gun! I never shot the man!" Erik cried, frustrated that they didn't believe him.

At that point the door opened and a pot bellied man with a receding hairline beckoned the two detectives out.

Erik and I were alone for the first time since he had been arrested. I turned to him quickly, "You are sure there was someone in the bathroom?"

"Yes," Erik said firmly.

"Alright…then that must be our murderer…we just have to make them see you couldn't possibly have had that gun," I looked back at the papers in the file I had been given.

"He was shot with his own gun?" Erik asked me.

"That's what the report says," I told him.

"When I used to live under the opera house I had a gun…I hid it in a compartment in the wall," Erik said quietly.

I nodded, understanding, "Mark would not leave a gun in plane view, so how would you find it?"

"I couldn't, not in that short amount of time," Erik said.

"Only someone who knew where it was…it had to be someone he knew," I said, my mind already leaping ahead to the only possible conclusion.

"That would explain how he was shot in the back of the head; you never turn your back on a known enemy," Erik stated with a kind of grim certainty that made me a little nervous.

"Irina," I said, just as the door opened.

The detectives were gone and the police captain entered.

"Mr. Duval, we will not be pressing charges at this time, you are free to go,"

We stared, shocked with relief. Erik stood, shaking slightly at his own extreme good fortune. As we passed the captain I stared at him,

"Do you remember me Captain Florek?" I asked. It occurred to me that I had dealt with this man several times years ago when I had been an ADA.

He stared at me for a moment, "Olivia Moss! I thought you looked familiar," he seemed somewhere between surprised to see me and upset that his detectives seemed to have made a mistake.

"You got a sample back from the crime scene," I guessed, "Someone else was there weren't they?"

The captain looked awkward, "I can't really comment on that,"

I nodded, "Make sure you check out his wife Irina…she's a real pill," With that piece of advice I left the station, Erik trailing at my heels.

By now it was quiet late and I was exhausted, but also oddly exhilarated. For the first time since the attack I felt like more than a helpless child.

"Olivia," I turned to face him, he looked very worried and upset, "Are you angry with me?"

"No…you just wanted to help me, this wasn't your fault," I told him quickly.

"Thank you Olivia, for not asking me," Erik closed his eyes and sighed.

"For not asking you what?" I asked.

"If I was really innocent or guilty," Erik said heavily.

I bit my lip. The truth was I had almost asked him that very question when the detectives had left us alone in the room. I had thought better of it though, I refused to even entertain the idea that Erik might have shot him.

But I had wondered. I had been expecting him to do that all along hadn't I? That was why I never told him about what Mark was doing. And I knew Erik was capable of murder. I told myself that that was a long time ago and that he had changed but still.

Now I knew I could never ask him, not without hurting him. I told myself that I didn't care anyway; Mark's death meant nothing to me. And it seemed that someone else might have done it, Irina or some other enemy of his. As he was a bastard I knew he must have had lot of enemies.

We didn't stop anywhere for food. Drained emotionally we both just went home. I collapsed on the sofa. Erik hesitated a moment before he sat beside me,

"You are sure you aren't angry?" Erik asked me.

"Of course I'm angry; at those idiots playing police not at you Erik," I wrapped my arms around him, "I was worried they were going to hold you in jail for at least a night,"

"Could they really have done that? Did they have enough against me?" Erik asked in a worried tone.

"If they hadn't found any evidence that there really was someone in the bathroom I don't doubt that they would have held you," I rested my head on his shoulder, "By elimination there would have been no other plausible explanation; you were there and you had a reason to kill him,"

"I'm glad you were there," Erik told me, kissing the top of my head, "You were amazing,"

"That was nothing," I laughed, "You should have seen me when I was an ADA; I used to say things like, 'In the name of justice!' I sort of miss it,"

"You could go back to it," Erik suggested, pulling me further into his lap.

"No I can't," I sighed, "I need the shoe money,"

Erik let out a small laugh, "Well darling, you have to admit that I'm not a dull person to be with,"

"No," I said with a small smile, "It is always something with you,"

As we readied for bed, a question popped into my head, "Erik, what did you do with that note you found from Mark?"

"Oh!" Erik thought for a moment, "I think it's…" He went over to our bedside table where he had taken the phone book, "It's right here,"

"We should probably turn it in or something," I said looking curiously at it, "Erik did you notice the writing on the back of this?"

"No," Erik said in surprise, he supposed his eyes had darted to the name Mark and that had been the end of reason, "What does it say?"

"I don't know, it's in a different language," I said staring at the message on the back.

"Let me see it," Erik demanded, taking the note from me, "It is in Russian," Erik said after staring at it for a moment.

"You speak Russian?" I said shocked.

Erik nodded, "I lived there for a little while before I went to Persia,"

No, I thought to myself, one could never say Erik had had a dull life, "So what does it say?"

"This is strange," Erik said, "It's all dates, names, and places,"

"Irina must have written it," I guessed, "She is Russian…must have been an old note or something," I yawned, "I'm too tired to care right now,"

We still slept on the sofa each night. I couldn't stand our bedroom, even with a new bed. I knew that the sofa was really too small for Erik to sleep on comfortably but he never complained.

As we had done on that odd night when we had stayed in Nadir's apartments, Erik would lay on his back while I slept more or less on top of him. I liked that feeling of being so close to him. I remembered those first few nights after the attack when I clung to him for safety so fiercely. When he was near I never felt scared or vulnerable to anyone.

But I knew that too much dependence was never a good thing. I couldn't keep hiding in his shadow.

Erik didn't sleep that night. The thought of arrest, of capture horrified him. Sitting in the back of the police car he had been sure it was all over. He expected that I would not believe in his innocence, or that I would be in to much of a frenzied state to help him.

Though neither of his suspicions had proven true, he still felt a sharp foreboding in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't help but feel that this was far from over. Who had attacked me? Who had killed Mark? To him Irina seemed the obvious choice, but then he wasn't quite sure. Whatever happened he could not shake the uneasy feeling of dread which settled on him like pigeons on a Central Park bench.

The next day Erik was forced to face the first of his misgivings. His boss called him into his office. As Erik waited to see him he felt a strange sense of trepidation. Mont had called him into his office before, but this time it just felt different.

Usually he disliked going anyway, because Karen Hegel was still Mont's secretary. Things at work had been very awkward since the breakup. Erik shuttered to even think about the time when they had been together. He had acted like such a fool, and been generally unhappy.

Still, Erik had heard rumors, mainly from Greg who seemed to know everything, that Karen still had feelings for him. In truth if Erik had listened a little harder, he would have heard that most of the women in his office saw him as an enigmatic French sex god. But Erik made sure that these whispers were kept far from him.

In any case, sitting there in front of Karen's desk was as awkwardly unpleasant as he had once found walking around without a mask on. He shifted uncomfortably as he felt Karen's eyes on him every few minutes. She was tapping her pen on the desk as she looked over some papers and Erik found it almost impossible not to rip the pen out of her hand the noise it was making annoyed him so much.

When Mont buzzed Erik into his office he leapt out of his chair and hurried into his boss's office; although he had the sinking feeling he was headed from one uncomfortable situation to another.

Mont looked up at Erik with a somber expression on his face, "Have a seat,"

Erik sat down and felt that he had been justified in his dread of this meeting; usually Mont greeted him with a buoyant smile but this time he looked as though someone had died.

"How is your wife doing?" Mont asked him, and Erik felt a glimmer of hope; maybe all he wanted to do was check after me.

"She's doing much better now," Erik said, willing this to be Mont's only question.

"Erik, I called you here today because I heard something…disturbing," Erik felt his heart plummet to his stomach because he knew what had to be coming next, "The police called here yesterday and wanted to know where you were…you had just left and I sent them to your apartment…they said you were under arrest,"

"Mr. Mont that was all a mistake," Erik explained quickly. Though it was not always incredibly challenging Erik liked his job. He was even beginning to enjoy the people he worked with. All the time he was getting calls from private clients and he thought that one day, with enough experience he could have his own firm.

Erik continued to tell his story, "You see this man, Mark Berry, he had been following my wife and I think he was the one who attacked her. Anyway I found a note he had sent to her after the attack and I went to his apartment…I hit him but I didn't kill him,"

"Well obviously you were released because you are here, but Erik…this doesn't look good to possible clients," Mont said gravely.

"They dropped the charges," Erik reasoned, "No one ever has to know, it won't be on my record or anything like that,"

"Still, it looks bad; I don't like any of my employees involved in murder cases," Mont said stonily.

"Listen," Erik said, his anger rising in him, "I was only there because this man was stalking my wife! For all I know he was the one who almost beat her to death! Wouldn't you have confronted him?"

Mont looked away uncomfortably, "I'm sure you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but Erik I have to think about what is best for the company,"

"What's best for the company!" Erik cried, no longer able to hold his anger in check, "How many more clients have I brought in for you in just this one year? And whose design was it that got this firm in every architectural magazine in the country!"

"Don't raise your voice to me," Mont said, his voice rising in volume, "I built this firm up from nothing, we were already New York's premier design firm long before I hired you,"

Erik fumed. He thought about how much easier all this would be if he could just Punjab and blackmail people into doing what he wanted again.

"I'm afraid I am going to have to let you go Erik," Mr. Mont said soberly.

Erik felt his stomach twist with anger and frustration, "But I didn't do anything wrong!"

"I have to think about our reputation; I was obliged to tell the board of directors what happened and they all agree," Mr. Mont said firmly, "It had been a pleasure working with you," He stood from his desk and extended a hand to Erik.

Erik's shoulders slumped. What could he do? He couldn't kill the man, and he clearly couldn't reason with him.

"This is all a huge mistake," Erik argued, "It's really not necessary,"

"I'm sorry to have to do this to you, especially so soon after your wife…" Mont's voice trailed off.

Bitterly Erik stood and grasped Mont's hand, determined to crush it in an iron grip, "Thank you for all the opportunities," Erik said coldly, not bothering to hide his anger or his malice.

Erik turned and left the office quickly knowing that if he looked at Mont for another second he would rip his head off. He had been falsely accused of murder, and even after he had been let go he was still treated like a criminal. If this was how innocent people are treated, Erik thought, than maybe he shouldn't be so innocent anymore.

He stormed off to his office. He didn't stop or even acknowledge when Karen called his name.

For a long time Erik just sat in his office, his head in his hands. Millions of ideas were swarming through his head; different ways to avenge himself against all the injustices he had suffered. Each one was as ridiculous and impossible to carry out as the next, but he still would have liked to do them.

With nothing else for it, he called me.

"Olivia?"

"Erik! Honey you sound upset what's wrong?"

"Mont…he heard I had been arrested and he fired me!"

"What! Did you explain to him that you didn't do anything and that they let you go?"

"No Olivia I confessed to murder and said I was fleeing from the cops,"

"Alright Mr. Sarcastic, just keep your shirt on…I think I can help,"

"How?"

"Just trust me,"

With that I hung up. Erik stated confusedly at the phone, what could I possible do?

I had my secretary patch me through to Mont's office.

"Hello?" I heard Mont's voice on the other end.

"Hello Mr. Mont this is Olivia Duval,"

There was an awkward silence and then, "Oh…Mrs. Duval…your husband must have told you…very regrettable…"

"Oh please I understand! And call me Olivia," I said brightly, "Actually I am calling on behalf of a client of mine…I'm not sure if you are aware but I represent the Historical City Planning Committee, you recently got into it with them about a certain Manhattan block you wanted to build on…now I know they said they were satisfied but lately they have been having resignations and I feel obligated to inform you that they may not be happy with the terms we have already set,"

There was another heavy silence, "I'm sure you know that more argument about the site would cause a delay and cost us a considerable sum of money," Mont said coldly.

"I am aware of that,"

"Are you threatening me with this if I don't give your husband his job back?" Mont asked coldly.

"I am merely telling you the current situation," I said mildly, "What you want to do is up to you,"

Mont paused, "I need to discuss this with the board of directors; I will call you back tomorrow,"

"You have thirty minutes to respond Mr. Mont, after that it's back to the negotiation table," I said curtly and I hung up the phone. I smiled and leaned back in my chair. It had been awhile since I had felt so pleased with myself. It was a win win; either Erik got his job back or I got to screw his old boss with at least another four months of delay and make sure he lost enough money to regret the day he crossed Erik and Olivia Duval.

An hour later Erik called me stunned, "Honey, they gave me my job back!"

I tried to sound surprised, "Oh that's wonderful darling!"

Apparently I did not sound surprised enough though, "Why do I have a feeling you had something to do with this?" Erik asked me suspiciously.

"No! I'm sure he realized what an incredible asset you are and reconsidered," I said slyly.

"Olivia what did you do?" Erik asked me, and I could hear the laughter in his voice and the relief of having his job back.

"Off the record," I said, "Threats, good old fashioned threats,"

"Olivia! I'm shocked, that was very wrong of you," Erik teased me.

"Save the lecture on the evils of threatening people O.G." I said, smiling to myself, "You can reprimand me all you want once we get home...now go enjoy your job,"

I hung up happy. Not just because Erik had his job back, but because for the first time in over a week all I was really thinking about was going home and having sex with my husband.

But by the time I got home I had more on my mind than physical pleasures. As soon as we entered our apartment I sat Erik down and explained to him what I had found out.

"I had a friend of mine at the F.B.I. run Irina's name—" I started.

"Wait, you have a friend at the F.B.I.?" Erik asked me.

I smiled, "You're not the only one with an exciting life dear," I said, squeezing his hand, "It's just a guy I went to law school with,"

"Just a guy or just a guy you used to sleep with?" Erik asked me shrewdly.

"I—Erik that's not the point! What I am trying to say is that he ran Irina's name and found something interesting…her father is Victor Bout, a known arms dealer for the Russian Mafia,"

"What?" Erik stared at me, "Olivia that's impossible! If they know who he is wouldn't they have arrested him by now?"

"It's not that easy to prosecute someone like him," I said gravely, "Witnesses disappear, evidence gets lost, threats come in against detectives, DA's…everything goes wrong,"

Erik and I sat in silence for a few minutes before Erik spoke,

"I wonder what those names and dates really mean,"