You know the rules, have to make my disclaimers; all the usual ones apply.
Wainwright Home, Sunday morning
She awoke to the feel of a small warm hand on her cheek. Opening her eyes she saw the angelic face of her precious little Hudson sleeping soundly in her bed next to her. As her eyes focused farther away, she saw another special angelic face in her bed, her son Trey, who was watching them both with a smile on his tired face.
"He's finally asleep," Trey whispered. "Some night, huh?"
Amy nodded at him and carefully slid out of the bed. She motioned for Trey to follow her into the bathroom. Trey quietly closed the door behind them, and Amy slumped into his arms. He lowered them both to the floor, where they sat in silence for a time.
"Is it going to be like this every night," Trey wondered.
"I don't know," Amy answered him honestly. "He really misses her. How do you explain to a 15-month old that his Mommy is never coming back? He just got the hang of her leaving and coming back without fussing, and now this. Poor kid."
"Yeah. At least he's keeping me busy right now," Trey commented sadly, tears welling up in his large, dark brown eyes. "I miss her so much, Mom." He fell into Amy's arms, his broad shoulders heaving.
Major Case Squad Room, Monday morning
This time it was Eames who brought coffee to Goren. As she placed the cup in front of him, he looked up at her and smiled. "Thank you," he said gratefully.
Well, this is a change, Alex thought. He's really trying. "You're welcome," she found herself saying to him. She gave him a small smile and moved to sit at her desk, aware he was watching her carefully.
"What," she said, with a confused smile.
"It's my favorite," Bobby told her. "I'm slowly starting to realize how much we know about each other, and how much I'm grateful for that. Can't I say thank you?"
"Okay," Eames said uncertainly, slowly lowering herself down in her chair. "Thank you, I guess."
Bobby smiled broadly at her, again catching her off guard. "Okay, then. Let's get to work."
Eames shuffled the papers in front of her, finally pulling one out of the stack and studying it for a moment before she spoke. "Well, we didn't find Murphy at his home Friday. Any word from the unis watching his house over the weekend?"
Goren looked down at the pink slips on his desk. "No, no sign of him at his home."
"Rodgers' report said there was chlorine on his clothes, right," Eames asked, looking directly at Bobby. "Have we checked Murphy's work history yet? Maybe he works for a pool service, or a health club? Somewhere where he would be around chlorine." She started shuffling papers again.
Goren got up and moved around to her side of the desk and took some of the papers. Together they hunted through the papers until….
"Aha," Eames cried victoriously. "Murphy's last job listing is at Perfect Pools, a pool installation and service company. He is the service technician for several hotels and gyms in Manhattan."
"That would give him access to pool chlorine, plus heavy tools. Laura was bludgeoned several times with a heavy object," Goren reached his long arm across to his desk and grabbed the coroner's report. "Here, look," he showed Eames a portion of the report.
"'Some of the wounds appear to have been made by a large monkey wrench,'" Eames read from the report. "Well, it looks like we're headed to Perfect Pools."
Perfect Pools, Houston Street
Goren and Eames entered the store and approached the man sitting at the desk behind the counter. Both detectives flashed their badges at the man.
"I'm Detective Goren; this is my partner, Detective Eames. We're looking for James Murphy," Goren said, leaning on the counter as he pocketed his badge. "Is he here?"
The man approached the counter. "I'm James Murphy," he said with a hint of a soft Irish brogue in his voice.
Eames looked quickly at Goren then back at Mr. Murphy. "You can't be Mr. Murphy," she said.
"I am Mr. James Murphy," the man behind the counter insisted.
"No, see, the James Murphy we're looking for is 25 years old. You're not him," Eames insisted.
"Oh, you need my son, Jimmy," Mr. Murphy said with sudden understanding. "He's not here right now."
"We really need to talk to him," Bobby said. "Do you know where we can find him?"
"Why? Is he in some kind of trouble again?"
"We need to talk to him about a murder investigation," said Eames.
"You think he murdered that Wainwright girl," Mr. Murphy stated with a sigh. "I'm not surprised. I'm sure you already know about the restraining order her family had out on him."
Mr. Murphy continued when the two detectives nodded. "He's been mad at her ever since he came back and found out she was married."
"Came back," asked Goren confused. "Where's he been?"
"He's been in California these last 5 years. Just came back 6 months ago. It was a condition of the agreement we had with the Edwards. Jimmy would go live with his grandparents out in California and the Edwards would only file a restraining order and not press charges. He promised me he would be able to leave her alone if I let him come back."
Mr. Murphy reached under the counter and pulled out a black binder. He flipped it open and thumbed through several pages. "Let's see…..Monday….." He looked at his watch. "10 am….here it is. The Hilton Hotel in Times Square, West 42nd Street. Jimmy should be there doing a servicing and cleaning of their pool."
"May I see that, please," Goren asked Mr. Murphy. Mr. Murphy turned the log book around to face Goren. Goren opened his binder and began taking notes on Jimmy's whereabouts on Tuesday morning.
"Would you happen to know where James was this weekend," Eames asked Mr. Murphy.
"No. He has his own place now," Mr. Murphy answered her. I have to start trusting him sometime, don't I?"
Eames smiled at the man. Goren turned the log book back around to face Mr. Murphy just then and looked up at the two of them. "I got what I needed. You ready to go," he asked Eames.
"Yes," she told Bobby. "Thank you, Mr. Murphy."
Goren and Eames arrived at the Hilton Hotel and were escorted to the pool area by the concierge. Jimmy Murphy was nowhere to be found, but banging and cursing could be heard coming from an open doorway across the pool from the two detectives.
Goren winced and grinned at Eames as he made his way around the pool towards the open door. He entered to find a young man doubled over and holding tightly to one hand. "Damn, that hurts," the young man yelled.
"Here, let me see," said Goren.
Reluctantly, Jimmy held out his hand and Goren carefully took it and looked it over intensely. "Looks like you only need ice," he said, letting go of Murphy's hand.
"Thanks," Jimmy said sheepishly. "Hammer."
"Ouch," said Eames coming into the mechanical room. "Are you Jimmy Murphy?"
"James. I'm James Murphy," he answered her, stressing the name "James".
Goren and Eames exchanged a quick look.
"Could we talk to you out there," she asked, waving towards the pool.
"Sure. What seems to be the problem," Jimmy asked as he led the two detectives out of the room.
"I'm Detective Eames and this is my partner, Detective Goren. We're investigating the murder of Laura Wainwright. We understand you knew her."
"That – that was a long time ago. She's married now. I haven't seen her in 5 years or more," Jimmy stuttered uncomfortably.
"Oh," Goren asked him. He clasped his hands with his binder behind his back and leaned in towards Jimmy. "I don't think so." He began to move in a circle around Jimmy, still leaning towards him and continued. "You see, Laura has been murdered." Another few steps around Jimmy. Where were you last Tuesday morning?"
"I was working. The YMCA on West 63rd. I was there all day."
"Were you there at 6:30 in the morning, Jimmy," Bobby asked quietly.
Jimmy looked him straight in the eye and said slowly, "It's James; only my dad calls me Jimmy."
"I'm going to ask you again, were you there at 6:30 Tuesday morning? Because your Dad's log book doesn't show you clocking in over there until 7:30." Bobby had stopped moving around Jimmy and was now face to face with the young man.
Jimmy raised his arms in mock surrender and said cockily, "Ok, you got me. I was in the park at 6:30 Tuesday morning. But I didn't kill her; I just wanted to talk to her."
Bobby cocked his head to the left and gave James a half-smile. "You sure do have a funny way of talking to people, Jimmy. Laura was beaten pretty severely. Are you sure you didn't hurt her?"
Jimmy said nothing.
"Laura took out a restraining order on you five years ago. Care to explain that to us," Eames asked him. She had moved around to block Jimmy from leaving.
Jimmy turned suddenly and looked Eames right in the eyes. "I'm not saying anything else. You want me to say anything, you're gonna have to take me in."
"That can be arranged," said Goren. He grabbed Jimmy's sore hand and twisted the young man's arm around behind his back. "Let's go downtown. We'll even get you an ice pack for your sore hand after we get there."
Major Case Squad Interrogation Room
Jimmy Murphy sat sullenly in the metal folding chair in Interrogation Room One. As promised, Goren had given the man an ice pack, and he was holding it on his hand. Goren, Eames and Ross watched him through the glass in the observation room.
"Well, do you think he did it," asked Ross.
"Based on the way he was acting at the pool, I'd say yes," Eames stated.
"Okay, but play this one carefully. No mistakes," Ross ordered. "I'm going to watch from here."
"Yes, sir," said Bobby as he and Eames walked out of the room.
Upon entering the interrogation room, Bobby walked over to Jimmy and asked him about his hand. Murphy removed the ice pack and Bobby bent over for a closer look. "I still think it's going to be fine in a few days. It doesn't look like you broke any fingers."
"Sure hurts like it, though," Jimmy responded.
Eames had seated herself at the table across from Jimmy and was placing photographs of Laura's body and the crime scene out on the table. Next she placed a fingerprint comparison report and a toxicology report on the table. When she was done, she folded her hands and placed them on the table. She looked up at Bobby and waited for him to sit down. Bobby chose the chair next to Jimmy and looked at Eames.
"You've already told us you were in the park with Laura the morning she was killed," Eames began.
Jimmy just looked at her and said nothing.
"These pictures here show us that she was hit repeatedly with a heavy metal object, probably a monkey wrench. Are we going to find her blood on your monkey wrench, Jimmy," Eames asked.
Jimmy continued to look at her without talking, although Goren detected a slight twitch around his eyes at Eames's last question.
"Okay, then. Let's talk about the restraining order," Eames said.
Jimmy came alive at the mention of the restraining order. "That bitch! I wasn't hurting her! I loved her; I wanted to be with her. HE made her file that," he huffed.
"He, who, Jimmy," Bobby asked the man. "Her father? Her brother? A boyfriend?"
Jimmy glared at Goren. "Her father."
"What happened, Jimmy? Why did the Edwards have to file a restraining order against you," Bobby asked firmly.
"She wasn't always a rich socialite. We grew up together and in second grade she promised to marry me. It was at recess under the big tree on the playground. Anyway, after we got into high school, I wasn't one of the popular kids and she quit hanging around me, started dating other guys. I used to drive by her house all the time, follow her to make sure she got home safely from school and dates. She was my girl, you know? I guess I lost it after she turned me down for Senior Prom."
"What did you do, Jimmy," Eames asked.
"I beat up her date pretty bad. I found out the day after prom that he had tried to rape her. I was so mad that anyone would want to do that to my Laura that I couldn't help myself. He had to pay for what he did to her. Then I went to her house and tried to make her run off with me. Her dad tried to stop us and I hit him, too. He wanted to press charges for stalking, and kidnapping, but my parents talked him out of it and promised I'd go live with my grandparents for five years in exchange for a restraining order."
"How did Laura end up dead," Goren asked softly, changing both his tactic and his tone of voice. Eames sat silently and watched as her partner coaxed the rest of the story out of the young man. It never ceased to amaze her just how good he was at this part of his job. She made careful notes as the words tumbled out of Jimmy's mouth.
As Jimmy continued answering Goren's questions, it became more and more clear that he was not alone in murdering Laura. Answer by answer, the pieces began to point towards someone paying Murphy to kill her. Finally, Goren moved in for the kill.
"Who hired you to kill Laura Wainwright," Goren asked firmly.
"Her husband; Trey Wainwright."
Goren and Eames just stared at each other.