Friday 21st November

St. Luke's Place, Greenwich

Goren woke with a start as Caro flung herself out of bed and fled the room. Next thing he was conscious of was the noise of her throwing up in the bathroom. The sound of her retching and his impossible to reconcile sense of guilt, mixed with one of strange relief. It was normal, to be expected and perhaps a sign. That in these early weeks, when there was so little else to go on, things were progressing as they should.

He got up, put her bathrobe to warm on the heater and got the bathroom door more or less shut on him and told to "go away". So he did for a short time, using the cloakroom in the basement and curing the feelings of helplessness and uselessness he had better get used to, by filling the kettle. And getting out on a kitchen counter anything edible or liquid that might help and Caro might want.

Then got back to the hallway upstairs to wait. In time for her to emerge looking dreadful and miserable. To wrap her in the warm robe and in his arms.

"I know I just imagined that" she said, her voice muffled against his body

"Of course you did Caro"

What made no sense was that twenty minutes later she looked absolutely fine, like nothing ever happened and later left for work, with him the one going to be a little late thanks to all the irritating "hovering" and "fussing" over her he had done. And Caro taking unfair advantage of him. To jump in the shower ahead of him.

Major Case Squad Room

Eames glanced up as Goren came in a little late and having missed a patch on his right jaw with the razor that morning.

"Hi" she said "Full PM and labs came in on Willard and Doris"

"Morning"

He picked up Dr Roger's report seeing her with the one from CSU open and went round to his desk. Dropping into the top, right drawer a large and fairly well thumbed volume Eames could guess the title of. For a moment or two they scanned in silence as his partner ate a muffin and sipped coffee.

Liz Rogers was now able to confirm neither victim had alcohol or drugs, legal or otherwise, in their system. Doris Bunker had been strangled but not to death as she was confirming drowning as cause. It made the scenario he and Eames had speculated quite possible. That she was throttled to unconsciousness possibly stripped at that point and then placed in the tub to finish her off. And if it really was a recreation of elements of "Hamlet" the young woman had to drown, not be throttled to death.

"They say anything about her clothes?" he asked "About contact with water?"

Eames flipped back a page. "None. They did a test with an identical dress. Wet the skirt lining. Without an iron it wrinkled up. Hers was either ironed or dry cleaned recently or never went in the water. And listen to this Goren. CSU has confirmed the traces of that sticky material Liz found on Arthur's neck as consistent with some sort of adhesive tape"

"Fits with signs of bruising on the wrists and ankles and…and soft white fibres Dr Rogers found in his windpipe. Anything about greasepaint on her?"

"Why just her Goren?" his partner frowned.

He sat chin in hand and flipping back to his notes "I was thinking what Splinter Susan said…how it was part-time and occasional work for Doris. No…nothing slightly kinky…yeah here we are…the caller said he was an older black man wanted straight sex with a "nice" girl"

"I see what you mean. If the door was opened by a young man or a white one, she might have hesitated before stepping in. Asked to see Mr Willard first. Make up might convince her and might have transferred during a struggle. Once she was through the door…we know what happened"

Eames threw away her take out bag and then said, "Remind me. Did the caller ask for an African American girl?"

"Uhuh. Trouble is the amount of decomp makes it impossible for Rogers to say how long he might have been tied up before he was killed. To assess dehydration for example. The amount of bruising where he struggled suggests it was not just a short while. While the killer found the kitchen knife. Long enough for him to have doubly soiled his pants though"

"Why wait Bobby? Why not just kill him right away? Make the cut in the curtain and put him behind it. Then Monday morning make the call to the agency, always assuming Susan told the truth on the timing of that" Eames mused. "Unless the killer was worried about the smell of decomp?"

"This weather the answer would have been to switch off the heating. That would slow it down in a cold apartment" Goren shrugged. "No danger then of Doris smelling anything strange when she arrived. Or the neighbours. Possible Willard was forced to make the call for the girl I suppose"

"The call to the agency was not made from the apartment by the way, so that doesn't seem likely and the only thing not accounted for are his regular spectacles. Why take them away?"

Goren doodled a moment. "It's almost like there could have been three or four phases to this crime. Over three or four days. The last one being to stage Arthur and then leave the heating full on. Had his son not been so concerned, by the weekend the smell would have been detectible out in the hall"

"Perhaps the killer has a regular job he had to fit around homicide?" said Eames. "Most do. So what do you want to do next?"

"Go play a game of chess Eames"

Belvedere Castle, Central Park.

Within Central Park there were several places you could find a group of people playing chess almost any season, any day of the year. Some of them discreet games for money and more than one local who stopped to watch and especially unwary tourists, had found themselves the unwitting "victim" of a hustle. Sometimes worked by one or more often, two people.

It worked much the same as the poolroom scam. You made out you were a poor player, lost money to your "buddy" and then wiped the board with the guy thought he was onto an easy fifty. The danger of course, was that the "target" you lured to the table, turned out to be better than you.

As they drove up there mid morning on a fine sunny day, Goren did not tell Eames his friend Lewis, something of a chess prodigy, had done that a few times when they were at college together at venues all over the city. Once or twice with his help for a share of the take. They knew from family and friends they contacted, that Arthur Willard was semi-regular in the Park, especially since his retirement. With a group of older men who met on the Castle terraces.

And that when he collected his paper on Friday 7th from his local store, he had said he was heading for the Park. It was the last certain sighting of him and they hoped that on the same day of the week, they might find people there who could confirm if he ever made it to there.

None of the players hurried or drifted away when they realised the two of them were cops. Indeed, they were mainly a group of seniors including a former Park Ranger, a Rabbi and an ex-manager from Bloomingdale's. Most of them knew Arthur and were able, after some animated discussion; to be sure he was there that morning.

Goren found himself playing the Rabbi as the story came out.

"What time did he leave?" asked Eames her breath wisping in the air and wondering whether it was good for their health for these elderly men to sit around in the cold.

"About noon" replied one. "His usual time. We often walk to the subway together but that day I was meeting my grandson for lunch. Perhaps if I had not been Arthur would…"

"It's okay Mr Neilson" she said kindly. "I don't think it would have made a difference. Was anything unusual about that day?"

"No"

"Yes dere vas" said Rabbi Vronsky in his still marked Russian accent. "Artur left his glasses behind"

He took one of Goren's bishops and said "Dey are old men. Memory not so gut"

"That's right" said the guy with the black cane "Arthur was blind as a bat without them"

"We understood that from his family" said Goren working out how to lose fairly quickly but not too obviously.

"So why or how could he go without them?" puzzled Eames

"It was a sunny day. Like this" said Neilson "He had tinted glasses. With his prescription. He had that thing. You know with light?"

"Photophobia?"

"That's it Detective Goren. He switched them over and then when he left he forgot the case with the regular ones in. It was the Rebbe here realised because he almost sat on them and we said…"

"Enough already" snorted the Rabbi. "Zey need to know about the blond man…zat vas a foolish move Officer. I hope you are not letting me vin"

"No Rebbe" Goren lied.

"I think he could still have you Jacob unless…"

"The blond man?" said Eames firmly to focus attention.

"Young man" said Neilson. "Was up here taking pictures of the Park. When we realised Arthur left his glasses he offered to go after him. Hand them back"

"Did you see him with Arthur?"

"Yes" said Neilson "I was going to the bathroom. Over the side here I saw him catch up to Arthur down below. I think he was a tourist. Had a book… a guide book and Arthur was pointing…like showing him the direction he needed"

"And then they parted company?"

Neilson shrugged "Don't know. My age when I need to go, I have to go young lady"

Fifteen minutes later Goren had played to a stalemate and Eames had a fairly good description of the blond man and a date for later. When Neilson and Goodson, the former soft furnishings manager, would "enjoy" a trip to 1PP to work with a sketch artist.

As they returned to the SUV, Goren turned to her.

"Willard was a fairly fit man. The Park is quite busy with people. The blond man could not have abducted him here Eames. Got him against his will all the way back to Greenwich. Not without an accomplice and possibly a vehicle. Or without attracting attention"

"I know" said Eames. "And he may be what he seemed to be. But while you were playing Goren, I was thinking. How older people, maybe rather lonely ones might say things to a nice stranger shows interest or does them a kindness"

"Enough to discover he was going home, lived alone, was going to be alone?"

"Like you said there's too few errors and signs of planning for these to be random or impulse crimes and…"

He glanced at her "And what?"

"And how do you fancy a taco for lunch?"

To be continued…