The Locust
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Criminal Intent , LO:SVU , Without a trace , or any other show mentioned here, but owe so many thanks to the people who created them. I'm making no money out of this whatsoever. Don't sue me, I have no money.
A/N: Thanks for the reviews, thanks a lot (I really love my last lines…"smirks").
We're going to have interaction between Bobby and the killer, so this chapter is for Bammi1, who's on tenterhooks for said interaction. Special thanks to obsessedwithstabler for beta-reading ch10 as well as to Confused who's not quite as confused by my story as she should be, because we had good long talks about it. Also thanks to MaryT who helped me to sort some things out.
Oh, by the way... if you want to print it, you should put some more paper into your printer. It's a long one again. I could have split it, but I promised the interaction for this chapter, so I didn't. Have fun, all of you out there! Maybe I can lure some of you out of your "rabbit holes" with this chapter. LOL Thanks!
10
One Police Plaza
Major Case Squad
Sitting in the task room, doing paperwork, turning over files and waiting for something to happen, drove Goren crazy. Yes, he went to the crime scene with Stabler, but in the end he was still condemned to stay at the station while the others were out in the field. Even annoying basics like door to door questioning would be welcome now.
Well, he suspected, now that Linda was found, we will most likely spend the weekend here, too. Deakins never included the weekend, did he? Today's Thursday…
To stare at the files did Goren no good. Absently he played with a small item in his pocket and his thoughts started to trail off again.
I know that I should have talked earlier. Eames just tried to help. She wanted me to open up to her. She could not know about what's crossing my mind. When she asked me if this case would disturb me she hit way too close to home… as Stabler did earlier. Damn! I could have smacked him! And then Eames… Alex…
He looked at her empty chair. When he came back from his talk with Logan, she was gone again. His fingers followed the curves of the wooden object. He was so tired…
I'm sorry, Alex. I did not mean to snap. I did not want it to become a challenge. You tried to get me focused. You tried desperately because we're running out of time…
Memories rose and he flinched back. In search for something to hold on to, his hand closed around his toy.
It felt odd to enter his mind. I feared that he might be the one who would drive me over the edge. And then… I can't remember exactly what happened. I must have stepped over the line… and I didn't even know that it was there. Logan doesn't understand it. I really don't remember what I have done… I just remember that I scared Alex.
Scared Alex! He shivered. I never could hurt her. What have I done? What is this guy doing with my head? Sleep… I want to…
"Goren?" someone next to him said. "Bobby?"
It did not register in his mind until this someone touched his shoulder. His head spun round to look at captain Deakins.
"Bobby!" He sounded concerned. Goren hardly heard him. He saw his lips move but the words did not reach him. "Come with me."
As if he was in trance Goren got up and followed his boss. When he sat in front of the big desk he tried to focus on what the captain said.
"Bobby!" Deakins tried emphatically. "Do you listen to me?"
"Ye…yeah," he mumbled as the rush in his ears ebbed away.
"What's the matter with you, Bobby?" Deakins asked. "And don't tell me you're okay, because I can see that you're not."
Goren stared at him incredulously.
"You're pale as chalk," Deakins said, pointing at him. "And you're not just absentminded. I talked almost two minutes to you before you reacted."
"I… I'm sorry."
"You're sorry," Deakins remarked dryly. He looked at him intently. "And I'm worried, Bobby. Please tell me what's bothering you."
If I would know… So he just returned the look, racking his mind to find an answer.
Deakins did not know Goren as good as Eames did, but he still could read in his features that his mind was racing on overdrive… and he seemed to have lost the ability to slow it down again.
There's nothing bothering him, Deakins realized. It's tormenting him. I don't know how to interpret this expression. Is this fear?
"I know that you often think that you're responsible for the whole world. You're not, Detective. What has happened to Linda Montagnolo and… Miss Fountain was out of your control…"
"I should have prevented it," he contradicted. "What he has done to Stevie was a warning… for me. He wanted to tell me that I don't follow the rules of his game!" His voice grew louder with frustration. "But I can't tell what he wants, what these rules are! I can't solve his riddle. I… I feel like…"
He had started to let his hands run over his hair, to gesture and was winding in his chair as if he felt trapped.
"Easy, Bobby," Deakins tried to calm him. He became nervous now. "Take a deep breath and then try again. Don't rush it."
It did not reach his mind. His thoughts were a pure whirlwind, a growing hurricane that threatened to devastate whatever was in its way.
"Bobby! Try to focus. If you can't think straight, I'll have to relieve you of this case…"
Goren's head shot up, his gaze finding and locking with Deakins' eyes. Instantly the captain forgot what he had wanted to say. This stare gave him the creeps.
"That's out of your control," Goren snarled.
Deakins was thunderstruck. His first impulse was to reprimand the detective at once, especially given the circumstance that he already was on desk duty, but something was in that stare that stopped him. As he held his gaze a moment longer he could rather feel but see the pain behind this remark.
"Bobby…" he started but was interrupted.
"He's regarding me as his chess partner," he jumped up and started to pace. "To take me out of the game now could prove to be disastrous."
Deakins did not know how to respond. Goren's pain started to be plainly visible. All Deakins could think about now was to get Eames for help.
"Where's your partner?" was the next logical thing to ask.
The harmless question met Goren's distressed mind and changed rapidly into if Deakins doesn't know then she's missing.
"What do you mean, where's your partner?" He looked at him incredulously, his voice taking on a hint of panic. "I thought, you'd have sent her out together with Benson!"
"Benson's here," Deakins replied, nodding towards the bullpen.
Goren whirled around and searched through the glass wall for Benson, to see her enter the office she shared with Stabler. He also checked on Barek and Logan. They sat at their desks.
"Eames?" Goren breathed and was already halfway through the door.
"Bobby?" Deakins jumped up from his seat. "Goren!"
But he was gone.
xxx
"Hey, have you seen Eames?" Goren panted as he put his head through the door of the task room.
Benson as well as Stabler shook their heads. "No, not since we…" came back from Brooklyn and reported to Deakins, Benson wanted to say, but Goren was back out again.
He also stopped at Barek and Logan's desks, but they also had to answer in the negative.
"Bobby!" Logan called after him, as Goren strode out of the squad room.
Goren searched the whole eleventh floor. When he approached the Major Case squad room again, he felt panic rise. From the entrance he could see that Eames' desk still was unoccupied. He looked around but could not spot her. When he got his cell phone out to call hers it rang on top of her desk. So he pivoted again and started to search everything a second time. He even looked into the storage rooms where case files dusted to themselves. It was dark in there and he was just about to close the door again, when he heard sniffles.
"Hello?" Goren called tentatively, entering the room and switching the light on.
Next to a shelf Eames sat on the floor, her legs pulled up to her chest and her face streaked with tears.
"Leave me alone," she sniffled without to look up.
Dumbfounded Goren froze in place. His panic left him with a puff. There she sat, at least physically unharmed, obviously in distress, and told him to leave. His relief changed to hurt. But as he respected her he duly turned to head back out.
"Wait," she sobbed. "That… that was… not…" she trailed off. "Just wait."
He stood at the door, his hand on the handle and did not dare to move. She's crying! I made her cry! His heart raced and ached as if he was going to get a heart attack.
"I… I just reacted to the light… and… didn't notice… it was… you… I just wanted… to be alone for a moment." Eames stuttered. When she saw him slowly turn his head to look at her over his shoulder she shivered. He was pale and held… what… sort of desperation in his features.
"I'm sorry," he breathed. "Oh, Eames, I'm so sorry."
"You are sorry?" she sobbed. "What are you sorry for?"
"What… what I did… did to you," he stammered. "I'm…"
"No, Bobby! Stop it!" she tried to hold him back. "You're not going to apologize for my faults."
"B…but you…"
"…did everything wrong," she continued his sentence. "I'm truly sorry. It was a stupid mistake. I don't know why I reacted as I did, but I have to apologize. I hid in here to gather my thoughts." She patted the concrete floor on her right side. Reluctantly he sat down next to her, leaning against the wall. "I was so furious about Stabler and how he treated you, that I have lost track of you. I concentrated on Benson and Stabler, because I wanted to get to know them, so that I'd be better prepared to handle you all. But I did not mediate! Instead of that I excluded you! I'm such a fool!"
"You're not a fool," he contradicted. His breaths were shallow. "If we're talking about fools, that would be…"
"…not you," Eames tried to stop him. "It was my fault. I let you down! I shouldn't have pressed you to get into this guy's mind."
"I needed the pressure," he disagreed. Still, it sounded strange. "I should have tried to focus on him much earlier. It's what… I saw in… his mind that kept me from trying. I didn't want to be forced into his game, but that's exactly what happened."
His voice took on a tremor. Eames could sense now that he was in mental pain and she scolded herself, not to have prevented that. He also pulled up his legs, wrapped his arms around the shins. Seeing that she shivered but gave herself a mental kick in the ass.
"I'm sorry, Bobby." As she forced herself to try and take over control again, her voice became stronger. "That should not have happened. We're partners. It's my job to protect you… and I failed miserably."
She leaned a bit forward to be able to look into his face. What she saw let her shiver again. Damn. I did everything wrong! Exhaustion and fear were written in his face. Why didn't I notice that earlier? What kind of a partner am I? Has he slept? No, certainly not. How long hasn't he slept? And he's withdrawing into himself. Now I have to find a way to get him out of there!
"Bobby? Do you listen to me?" Just for a second he glanced at her. "Bobby, I can't tell you how sorry I am. And even in the moment you needed me most, I backed off and left. I should have stayed and helped you, but I was so distraught by what has happened, that I could not think straight. First off, I shouldn't have forced you into this. Secondly I should have noticed that you threatened to slip. Thirdly I should never have left you. You were trapped in this guy's mind and I was the one who forced you in there…"
"No," he panted. "That's not…" tears burned in his eyes. "I don't know what happened, Eames, but… I don't blame anyone… least of all you. You didn't force me to do anything. Actually I followed your lead because I trust you."
That trust must be badly shaken, now, she thought. It's so typical for him to blame no one except of himself…
"But, Bobby…"
"I trust you with my life, Eames," he interrupted her once more. "When you asked me to try and make his profile, it was my frustration not to be able to approach him that let me snap at you. I knew we were running out of time and that I had to work this out. I tried to do it because you were there. I did it because I trusted you to pull me back from the edge of the cliff… as you've always done."
His erratic breaths let him fall silent for a moment and Eames did not dare to disturb him. This time she was sure that he would continue on his own. She had to find out what was on his mind. She could contradict him later in case this was necessary.
"At first it wasn't that difficult," he said in a low, toneless voice. "I approached his psyche and began to explore his motives and his behavior when suddenly…… I… don't know… how to describe it. I entered the labyrinth that is his mind and then… the lights went out. In complete darkness I lost my orientation and then… I… lost contact… to you."
While he was talking, he slightly bowed forward, gently rocking back and forth. His mind was far, far away again. Eames could not think of anything else but to put her hand on his back, rubbing it in small circles to try and keep him in touch with her this time.
"I had refused to try and talk about it earlier, because I did not want to scare you. Back then it just was one of my odd ideas… pure, unfounded instinct. But now I know that sooner or later he will be after you. Still, I had no concrete profile ready. I… I did it… to find out how to protect you. I… really thought that I could do it. That I lost contact to you came so out of the blue that I could not prevent it. I can't really explain where I have been. I have no clear memory of that place. I know that it was dark… and… I was scared. I called out for you, but you did not come."
Eames got up and squatted in front of him. She desperately tried to get through his barriers, but his hands were locked tight into each other, pulling his legs to his chest. So she returned to his side.
"I could not get out of this maze," he sobbed. "I knew that something was happening but I was out of control. I felt attacked and could not determine from where and who it was. Suddenly everything was spinning. And then I was thrown out of the labyrinth. I was catapulted back into presence and that was as bad as being trapped in there. I saw you and that you were scared… of me!" his voice broke. "And… that… scared the shit out of me…"
He trailed off and was actually crying now. Eames could feel his hurt. Her own heart pounded in her chest and made her blood rush in her ears.
"You know what my first thought was?" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "I… I really… thought, that was it, that was the incident that drove me over the edge. That I freaked out and turned myself on you… it happened so fast… and… I could not control it…"
"You were talking about him in first person," Eames explained, trying to get him back into profiler-mode. "You said 'I' when you were talking about what 'you' have done to the women."
"I was not aware that I was still talking." He moaned. "But… when I… when I realized what I must have done, I really thought that it happened, that I crossed the line and now… also… would be…" he choked. His throat was corded up.
Suddenly it struck her.
"You thought this was a delusion?" she breathed. "You did believe that you suffered a breakdown? That you would finally develop schizophrenia?"
Halfway hidden between his arms and knees he nodded and Eames' heart broke for him. She did not know what to say. But she did not have to think, she just reacted… and wrapped her arms around him to pull him into a close embrace. He stiffened up and she felt him tremble. Soothingly she started to rub his back in circles again. One hand on the back of his neck, she pulled him even tighter, holding him gently in place and running her fingers through his hair. Hard tremors passed his body. She did not even realize that she began to hum. It seemed to take forever until he released his grip on his legs and wrapped his arms around her in return. Even as his body slumped against hers, giving in to her gentle caress, he did not stop shivering.
xxx
When his detective did not return after what seemed to be hours, Deakins decided to go and look for him. He strolled out of his office and passed the desks of his lead detectives. Goren's binder was on the tabletop, so he could not be too far away. So Deakins left the squad room to head for the break room, the rest room, the crib. No sign of Bobby Goren… or Alex Eames.
He was searching for her, Deakins reminded himself. She also was not back at the bullpen when I started my search. Just as he was about to pass the restrooms again, Barek left the Ladies'.
"Barek," he said. "Sorry, but… have you seen Eames in there?"
"No, Captain. Isn't she out somewhere with Goren?"
That's what Bobby asked me about Alex and Benson, Deakins thought. Now they're both vanished.
"No, they will probably be at the lab. When you see them, would you please tell them, that I'd like to speak them?"
"Of course, sir."
"Thanks, Barek." Still consumed with his thoughts about Goren, he went back to his office.
He left a frowning Barek behind who returned to her desk with such a puzzled expression, that her partner could not help but to ask her about it.
"Something's wrong with Goren," she mused, her voice low so that the others would not hear her. "He was looking for Eames earlier and so far neither of them has returned."
"Shall we search for them?" Logan asked, already halfway up, eager to get away from his paperwork.
"They are not missing," Barek scolded playfully. "I just shall tell them that he wants them in his office as soon as they're back."
Logan made a face. "I need a break," he said and was up and out of the squad room before Barek could do so much as call Mike.
xxx
To hold him tight to her chest, his face buried in the crook of her neck, sent shocks through Eames' system. As her fingers stroke through his thick curls she could not help but notice how smooth they felt. Slowly his trembling eased and her concentration slipped. She felt the warmth and weight of his body against hers and thought that she would not mind to do that forever.
We're both past an invisible border now, she thought. That's not what partners are for. That's what… what friends are for, more than… friends.
Now it was her turn to shiver as she realized what just happened. To see him this vulnerable, so in need of her, did not scare her. On the contrary it aroused deep caring feelings and a yearning to protect him. For years she knew that she loved Robert Goren, but now she wondered what kind of love it really was. She could not determine it but she knew that from now on their partnership would never be the same.
Little by little Goren's mind slowed down. He was content to give in to Eames' gentle caress and soft humming. Her hair smelled good. He felt it on his cheek, so smooth and soft. It takes her some time and effort to let it look as natural and free as she wears it. She could use clips for example, but she always wears it open. I like it this way, it underlines her natural beauty… This thought let him shiver again. Beauty? Since when do I think about my tough-as-nails, traditional and witty partner as beautiful? He swallowed. Since the very first day, he realized. Since the moment Deakins asked me to come into his office to introduce me to my-last-chance-in-this-squad new partner. Since the moment, I stepped in and saw this petite blonde who should become, together with my Mom, the most important person in my life. It was right at this moment that I thought that I've never seen a more beautiful woman.
And when I got to know her I realized what an amazing woman she is. I… No!
Without any warning he backed off, breaking out of her embrace and slamming his head into the wall accidentally. His breathing accelerated again and he panted as if he had run a marathon.
"Bobby?" Eames was startled. She did not know what had caused him to break away. For her it seemed as if something had thrown him back into the nightmare she just got him out of. "Bobby," she breathed and reached out for to touch his cheek, but he turned away. What the hell…? She could spot the fear in his eyes before she lost contact.
Absently he rubbed the hurting spot on his head where he had hit the wall. This is the wrong way to think. She's my partner, for God's sake. This could ruin our partnership. She won't agree with me, so I might destroy everything what we have now. And... and... it's going to endanger her even more...
"Bobby!" She became annoyed. Even if she could not see his eyes she noticed that he started to retreat into himself, to shut her out.
"Bobby! If you're not going to talk with me right now, I swear I'm going right through that door and out on the streets, calling for the killer to take the bait!"
She meant the threat for to get him back into a discussion, but what she read in his face when he looked at her now gave her the creeps. He must think I lost my mind.
"What are you talking about!?" he roared, jumping to his feet. "What bait!? Do you think I told you that for to ask you to play the bait!?"
Eames just could stare at him, thunderstruck. No, that was not what she had wanted to say. She also scrambled to her feet when the door flew open, two colleagues with worried expressions peeking in.
"Get out!" Eames yelled. "We're just arguing! Get out!" And she slammed the door shut into their faces. "That's not what I meant!" she exploded, facing her partner. "And now you will listen to me! You… are not responsible for what has happened! You… are not a fool! You… will not go to lose your mind. You… have not done anything wrong than to push me away when I answered your need!" In contrast to her blond hair her face glowed in an even darker red. Now she was panting with heated temper. "And…" she breathed, "…last but not least. You won't lose me… as long as you brilliant idiot don't push me away."
Once more she reached out for him and this time he did not flinch back. So she laid both her hands on his shoulders.
"Bobby. I know this is hard for you. You always think you're responsible for the whole world and you threaten to break under its weight. Even if this guy is challenging you… you're not forced to go through this alone. I'm here for you. And Carolyn and Mike, they are also there. They learned to respect you. They are friends and they will stick by you through thick and thin. We all do. Do you listen to me, Bobby? You are not alone."
Looking up at his skeptical expression, she felt the urge to hit him. To hit him hard. As if on cue someone knocked at the door hesitantly.
"Yeah?" Eames bellowed and the door opened a gap.
"Alex?" they heard Barek's voice. "Are you okay?"
"Come on in, Caro," Eames answered, "and see for yourself."
Cautiously Barek stepped in and closed the door. She did not know what to make out of that scene, so she chose to remain silent.
"Would you do me a favor, Carolyn?" Alex asked. "Could you tell this big oaf that we are having his back?"
By this seemingly simple demand Barek could tell that Eames was the one needing backup right now and decided to use her tough-ass-cop attitude to address her friend's partner. Wordlessly she opened the door again and reached out to pull her perplexed partner in.
"If you mean Mike, yourself and me with we, then yes, I can," Barek retorted. "You hear me, Goren? You can't get rid of us. We're sticking by you, even if hell freezes over."
He stared at her, thunderstruck. Only in action he had heard Barek raise her voice so far. To hear her yell to assure him of her support surprised him.
Eames felt shivers run down her spine again as she looked at her partner. His eyes rested on Barek, but they clouded. Eames had thought that some reassurance that he would not have to go through this case alone would help him, would soothe his stirred mind. Obviously it became worse instead. She could see that he shut them all out even faster.
Hit by the impact of Barek's word and the way they transported her compassion, Goren stumbled backwards. When he ran into the wall and could not retreat further he retreated to the one place, he knew would grant him sanctuary. His mind.
Often haunted by memories and feelings even this place was not save. This moment proved not to be any different. As soon as Goren stepped in, it fell shut. But it did not shut the others out. This time it shut him in. And the nightmare he encountered there made him tremble.
"Bobby?" Logan panted as he saw his colleague and friend stagger.
In an almost completely dark place, lit only by a low, flickering bulb, Goren saw long, brown curls and chains, holding the woman's wrists, to leave marks as they were found on Linda. Under evil thrusts she was winding and sobbing. He felt her skin as he bowed over her. He saw the knife in his hand, burying into her flesh over and over again and her blood splashed against his body.
"Bobby!" Eames shot forward, not thinking for an instant, solely reacting. This time she would not abandon him. She would go through this with him. Grabbing his lapels she tried and force him to face her. She was unprepared for his reaction that threw her back into Barek's arms.
"Bobby!" she sobbed rubbing her thumping shoulder. It would certainly be bruised tomorrow. "Bobby! Listen to me! Bobby!" Eames tried desperately, but he seemed to be at a different place, unable to hear her.
Goren's gasps changed to sobs again. Before Barek and Logan did realize what happened, he was crying, slumped against the wall and sank to the ground. Eames entangled herself from Barek and hurried to his side, pulling him into her embrace.
"I'm here," she murmured. "I'm fine. And you're going to be fine, too. Shh… We're going through this together, okay. Bobby?"
This time she could calm him down more easily. It took hardly two minutes to get him back out of his similar to a shock state of mind.
"God, Eames," he breathed. "I can't control it."
She could hear his fear in these words and she was sure that Barek and Logan heard it as well.
"Deakins should suspend me," he said. "I'm useless."
"You're not useless, Bobby," she contradicted him. "Don't talk so stupid."
"I am. I failed. I failed miserably… I should have told you earlier. I should have told Deakins…" His voice trailed off. With his right he reached into one of his suit pockets. When he opened his hand, a black pawn lay in the open palm.
Eames felt goosebumps on her back. What did he want to tell her?
"Bobby. Tell me now. What's about this pawn?"
He was hardly audible when he spoke again. "I got one when the first woman was killed."
Each of the other three detectives went rigid.
"I'm sure I got this wrong," Logan snapped. "Did you just tell us that the killer contacted you after his first murder?"
"No," Goren replied. "I said that I got a pawn. Just a pawn, nothing else."
"No letter?" Eames asked.
"No."
"A phone call?"
"No!" Goren became annoyed. "Nothing else."
"Why didn't you tell us that?" Logan roared. "Was it the only one?"
Goren just shook his head.
"So you're holding back evidence?!"
"Not… really," Goren mumbled. "I… I've found this one… on my desk."
"What?" Barek and Logan exploded.
"When?" Eames wanted to know.
"This morning, today, before Linda was found."
That rendered them silent for a moment.
"Okay, Bobby. Why didn't you tell someone about that?"
"Because I was not sure why I got these pawns in the first place. There was no message enclosed. I did not know what to make out of it. And then…"
"…and then?" Eames pressed. This time she had no choice.
"I didn't get one for Stevie. I only made the connection when I got the one for Linda. Cause Stevie did not need an additional hint. She was the message."
"Why pawns?" Logan asked.
"Their function in chess… they are… exchangeable… dispensable." He stared at the floor. "He doesn't need them for the game he's playing with me."
"So it was the stress, Bobby," Eames changed the subject, trying to let her voice sound confident. "This realization together with lack of sleep and the discovery of Linda triggered what you have experienced as breakdown. It wasn't a breakdown, it was just the stress."
"Deakins should fire me," Goren mumbled. Still he was lost in his guilt-trip.
Eames shook her head ferociously. "Bobby, you stupid jackass! Stop this at once. It's not your fault!" Another thing came to her mind. "Have you slept at all?"
"Not really," he mumbled.
That he answers so fast testifies to how tired he really is, Eames thought, massaging his neck and shoulders. And he was hiding it from us. She looked up at Barek and Logan.
"We have to talk with Deakins. We have to take into consideration what you have told us, Bobby, and respond with our investigation. And then we have to arrange some things so that you don't have to sleep in your car again."
"You…" he breathed.
"Yeah, I knew," she grumbled. "And I don't like it. I don't like the idea to have to work with Pépé le Pew either, in case this becomes your new sleeping habit… with no shower and new clothes in reach."
Now he blushed violently.
"I know why you've done it," she added. "And I do agree with you, Bobby. If you think that I need protection, then let's handle that by ourselves. I don't want the whole cavalry camping in my street, okay."
"So you're offering me your sofa?" he asked innocently.
"The sofa… and nothing else than the sofa."
"And if I'll have to… use the bathroom? Will you deny me that?"
"Bobby!"
xxx
One Police Plaza
on the stairwell
After all what Nicky has told me about him, I would have thought that he's a lot smarter. But so far he isn't anywhere close to where I wanted to lead him.
His memories trailed back to the morning. He had sent a boy to deliver the pawn, cause he would not have an opportunity to do it himself. He had to take care of Linda.
What kind of an irony! I just could not resist when I saw the game sitting on her desk. Well, this Samantha woman is a FBI agent! I expected her to play something bright as chess.
But it was so cool to find it there! A big, wooden chess game.
A broad grin spread over his face.
Well, I'm going to find out, what Bobby thinks about it. He will show some reaction, now that I'm intensifying the game. He won't be able to help and show me… and the wicked grin crept back on his face.
xxx
One Police Plaza
Major Case Squad
"Good to see you all," Deakins started. He met his four MCS detectives as well as Benson and Stabler in the task room, where all their material was displayed on the pin board. "I just received a call from ME Rodgers. She had news about Linda Montagnolo. Cause of death is without any doubt the cut throat, but she found something interesting."
"Other than the hairbrush?" Stabler asked.
"Yes, other than that," Deakins said and shot him an angry look. "Goren, I find it kind of interesting that you used the metaphor of chess in our conversation a while ago. Because Rodgers found that this poor woman also was sodomized."
Goren groaned. As if it was not bad enough to be raped with a hairbrush.
"Okay, don't tantalize us, sir," Eames said. "What has he sodomized her with."
Deakins reached into a folder for a print. "Rodgers sent me this e-mail," he answered and held up the page. It was the photo of a corner ruler, used for evidence, next to a black chess Queen.
"No!" Goren panted and bleached visibly. This NO was all he could think of. Shivers ran down his back and he started to tremble.
Eames reached for his left hand and held it firmly.
Deakins' concern changed to suspicion. "Is there something you want to share with us?" he asked. He did not like Goren's expression.
Embarrassed Goren stepped from one foot on the other. He just had convinced Stabler not to be crazy and now… He almost wound in place, trying to make up his mind.
When Eames sensed it, she wanted to withdraw her hand to reach for his shoulders again, only to find that she could not get it out of his clasp. It was stuck in a vice out of muscles and bones. Only when she saw the white shining knuckles she felt the pain.
"What's the matter with him?" Deakins wanted to know, hearing Goren mumble unintelligible to himself.
"He believes to be responsible," Eames sighed. "He thinks you'll fire him."
"That might happen faster than he thinks if he doesn't talk with me. Goren?" Slowly Deakins became annoyed. "At least you might get stuck at your desk for another week."
Eames sensed his avoidance, felt him retreat. He actually made a step towards the door, but she held him back. She gritted her teeth not to show the pain his firm grip on her hand caused her.
Deakins was not willing to let him retreat this way. He needed answers and he needed them now. "Either you talk with me now or you're going to have a lot of time to think about it when you're suspended."
As Goren already expected to be fired that was an empty threat to him. He wanted to go and Eames planted her feet as best as she could to hold him back.
"Goren, you stubborn mule! Stop it and talk!" she yelled at him. "Dammit, Bobby! Stop!"
"So it's a save bet to say that Eames will be the one this queen's standing for. Am I right, Bobby?" Stabler simply threw in without to raise his voice, even uninterested digging in his files.
Goren froze in place.
"At least you're working on getting ass duty for the both of you." Stabler topped his words with an impertinent grin. When Goren turned to him it was all he could do not to flinch back. The dark chocolate eyes were on fire and rage narrowed the brows above them.
"Or do you have any other suggestion?" Stabler stood his ground when Goren got into his face. He returned his stare with the look he usually saved for suspects. "How about siblings? Your mother, a sister? A girlfriend?"
Everyone knew how close Stabler hit with his suggestion. There was no one as close to Goren as his mother… and Eames. They all knew it, and they all were waiting for Goren to explode. Deakins was just about to interfere when he noticed that Stabler's tactic was working. Goren counted on his big frame and intensity to let everyone back off, but Stabler did not move an inch. On the contrary his muscles tensed and his intensity increased. Something in his look changed and…
Logan gasped as it was Goren who made a step back, then turned and sank in an office chair, pulling Eames with himself.
"Bobby?" She had to squat in front of him if she did not want to break her own wrist.
He just shook his head, slumped over, his arms drawn to his body, his forehead almost touching his knees. He still had to fight the images that haunted him.
"It's all my fault, mine, only mine," he whispered. "M… my fault."
"What's your fault, Bobby?" Stabler pressed.
"He…he has killed them…" he swallowed, "…because I… I didn't participate in his game…"
"What game?" Deakins inquired. He was reminded of their talk earlier when Goren told him it would be out of his control to relieve him of this case.
"Chess." His voice was so low that it was hardly audible. He fumbled the pawn out of his pocket and released Eames' hand. She took it and gave it to Deakins.
"Just… just fire me," Goren said. "I failed. At least two women are dead because I failed."
Deakins stared at the game stone in his hand.
"That's not the first, I guess," Stabler stated. "When did you get the first?"
It took a moment for Goren to digest what the SVU detective had said. His mind was still running on overdrive, hardly slow enough to grasp single thoughts.
"We… we were still working the Douglas/Olshaker case," he finally answered. "I didn't pay any attention because there was no message attached. I only made the connection this afternoon when the captain came in to tell us that another woman was found…"
"Where did you find it?"
"The one when the first woman was killed? In my mail box." Goren looked up at him. He had promised to talk and that was what he tried to do.
"Today."
"On my desk, here in the squad room." Goren was crimson red now, but not because he was angry. "I was so stupid. I didn't see it. And now they're dead."
Deakins just stood and listened. He was torn between beating and soothing the big detective who was like a son to him. One part of him wanted to hug him to take away the pain, and the police captain in him screamed for suspension.
"I need your head here and working," he finally said. "Until further notice you're on desk duty, as well as Eames."
"But she hasn't done…" anything wrong, Goren wanted to reply.
"And that's not meant as punishment for you, Alex, but as security measure. We have to think about what we're arranging for you overnight."
"We already made a plan for that," she explained. "I won't accept the whole cavalry around my house, so we arranged protection ourselves."
Deakins noticed the glances she exchanged with Goren and had an idea of this arrangement. "I would appreciate it if you could make use of that mind of yours and make up a profile, Goren" he said. "We need to get ahead of this guy or we'll never catch him."
"Yes, sir," Goren replied lowly. He looked at Eames. The warm glow in her eyes filled him with more confidence again. She would be right at his side. Relieved he managed a small smile.
"So why is he fixated on you?" Stabler asked.
Goren looked at him as if that was the most stupid question possible. "He needs an opponent," he said. "Someone who he believes to be clever enough to understand him. He wants an audience who can understand and appreciate his game."
"So he would turn against Eames to challenge you."
"Yes, but certainly not because he wants to get caught. This guy… he's never going to stop if no one catches him." Goren swallowed. "So far he did not get the attention he expected," he mused. "Linda was planned, but he squeezed Stevie in for to tell me that he's annoyed with me."
"His way to try to get you focused?" Eames asked and he nodded. "If he'd have bothered to call I could have told him that this isn't working with you."
His forehead crumpled and his look was sort of confused. "Thanks, Eames."
"You're welcome, Bobby."
The other detectives could not help their chuckles.
"I think that my first guess was wrong," Goren explained. "These killings actually just look as if they were his first string. I'm sure they're not. He will have killed before, somewhere else, he just arranges the scene in a way to make us believe that he's a developing rookie."
"The MO comparison with VICAP did not come up with any matching result," Stabler said. "There were several hits, but this particular MO never occurred somewhere else."
"I think he's copycatting." Goren wrote it on a slip and pinned it to the board.
"But if he's a copycat, the MO should be in there somewhere." Benson was cautious.
"But you might overlook something," Goren said. "Because the killer our perp is copycatting might be imprisoned or dead."
"So we should check VICAP again," Barek suggested. "We should select every single case with only a hint of similarity again."
Logan rolled his eyes. "Did you just volunteer?" he asked.
"We did," she replied and favored him with a broad grin.
"That was not exactly what I meant with sticking by him till hell freezes over," Logan grumbled.
Eames and Barek exchanged glances accompanied with smirks. Logan really hated paperwork. "Thanks for the laugh, Mike," his partner said. "I know, you'd prefer some action."
"Yes, I do." His features distorted to a sour smile. "You owe me."
"I owe you nothing. You're my partner and I've got seniority."
"Dammit," he grumbled. "Do you have to remind me constantly."
The major case detectives laughed. Banter with Logan mostly ended with him in the defense. He was smart, but he was no match to the combined wittiness of Barek, Eames and Goren.
"Turn special attention to his signature," Goren said, when Barek and Logan were about to leave. "It's telling us more about the offender than the MO."
Logan stared back at him, momentarily at a loss.
"Bobby means the repetitive ritualistic behavior," Barek explained. "It's directly related to the offender's daydreams which he translates into action. It's also called personation."
"Damned profilers," Logan grumbled with a glance at Barek as well as Goren, but his small grin was one of pride.
Eames chuckled. A bit of banter might relax her partner, so that he could now come up with the requested profile.
"Is she a trained profiler?" Benson wanted to know when the two detectives had left.
"Yes," Goren replied. "She was several years with the FBI."
"Can we now concentrate on our case?" Stabler asked. "We should get something done." For a brief moment nothing happened. "Can we finally agree on the fact that Eames will be his next target?"
Goren stared at him with a deep frown, but he remained silent.
"You said that you already took precautions," Stabler continued. "That's good, but doesn't get us closer to finding this guy. So, c'mon and share your insights. You said that he's fixated on you. So this pawn you showed us is proof for this theory now, right."
"You can say that, yes," Goren confirmed. He felt a bit calmer now, more controlled.
"Then spit it out, Bobby."
Eames stopped short, her eyebrows raising. Stabler called her partner Bobby?
"It's an organized offender," Goren started. "He's mobile, uses verbal means or cons to capture the victim rather than to use physical force and the victim often is a targeted stranger selected by the offender due to his personal criteria. He has a strong demand of control and sexual acts occur ante- and perimortem, rarely postmortem."
"What about his way to arrange the bodies?" Stabler was determined to keep him talking.
"Belongs to his signature and is a translation of his daydreams into action, serves his pathologic needs."
"And his fixation? Can you compare that to… I forgot the word… what we often have to deal with in SVU, stalkers."
"You mean erotomania?" Goren asked back. "It's comparable, but has no sexual based component." He thought for a moment. "The crime scene where the body is discovered is not the death scene. Only exception is the scene of Linda Montagnolo. She was actually killed in agent Spade's apartment. His weapon of choice is a single edged knife, he used not only to cut the throat but also to stab his victims."
"How significant is his sexuality for his actions?" Benson asked for the aspect that had led to her and Stabler's participation in the case.
"I'm convinced that his sexual arousal in response to sadistic imagery plays an important role in his life, but it's not the driving force. He's a sexual sadist, but he's also sadistic in other fields. He obtains gratification from the victim's response to mental and physical torture. To rape them is just one mean to torture them. We are looking for a narcistic sociopath who decides consciously to kill."
Eames listened to him with growing awe. That was the Bobby Goren she knew. Some of what he told them was a repetition of what he said earlier, but this time he really put it into a well founded profile.
"You can say that he's the opposite of the guy your squad is searching," Goren said.
"Who do you mean?" Stabler replied curiously.
"This man in the alley… I saw your picture in the news, Elliot. What was his name? Dawson?"
"Yeah."
"He's the victim of an disorganized offender, who seized the opportunity and did not even need a weapon… he just broke this guy's neck. Mutilation and insertion of the foreign object occurred postmortem and were substitution for actual sexual intercourse."
"Did you read the files?" Benson inquired.
"No, just the article. And I've seen two photos. It's a classic case… and almost impossible to solve if the offender did not know the victim. I doubt that there was genetic evidence…"
"That's right. The ME could not find foreign DNA."
"Who has the case now?" Goren asked.
"Munch and Tutuola," Stabler told him. "I talked with them. So far there is no promising lead."
"I don't think that this will change," Goren turned to him again. Then he faced the pin board. "To answer your earlier question, Elliot, yes, I took care of my mom and I have talked with some of my friends. As a matter of fact there are many casual acquaintances but no former girlfriend or such. On the other hand his game becomes more personal now, as he has proven by taking Linda and killing Stevie." He fell silent for a moment. "And I do agree… that this queen… gives a hint on Alex."
Eames felt shivers on her back. He has used my first name. He seldom does on duty. Hell, he seldom does off duty! So he really is concerned. And she knew that the others would not interpret it this way.
But, at least subconsciously, Stabler knew how to interpret gestures and facial expressions. He heard Goren trail off, and as he saw Eames pale a bit and raise her eyebrows he knew that Goren had said something of high significance.
"What is it?" Deakins was faster than Stabler. "Do you really think that she's the next?"
"I would not exclude Carolyn," Goren mumbled. "He may also continue with someone else of my circle of… friends. But in the end he will target her."
He glanced at his partner. Eames did not flinch. The only sign of nervousness he could find was a glimmer in her eyes.
"We took precautions," she said. "He won't have a chance to get to me."
"I really hope that." Deakins' frown spoke volumes, too. His gaze drifted out of the office where he spotted a visitor. "What is this guy doing here again?" he wondered, a hint of annoyance in his voice when he recognized the P.I. from Atlanta. "Keep me in the loop. I want to talk with you two before you leave," he said and left for his office.
"What about you, Bobby?" Stabler suddenly asked.
Goren looked at him incredulously. "Me?"
"Yeah, you," Stabler confirmed. "We're all worried about Eames, especially you, but what about you?"
An interesting question, Eames thought. He tends to forget to worry about himself.
"Stalker usually turn against their object of desire if they have to notice that their interest is not returned," Stabler added. "Don't you think this might happen here as well?"
"He's not an usual stalker," Goren mused. "I don't see him turn against me personally. He would chose an indirect way to punish me… such as to kill someone who's important to me."
"Which brings us back to Alex," Benson agreed.
Goren nodded.
"Okay, then let's have a look at his MO and signature again. There must be something that can tell us how to find him."
For a moment Stabler just watched his colleagues getting back to work with newfound enthusiasm. He was still skeptical. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered that they might be mistaken.
xxx
Manhattan
After their discussion with Goren Benson and Stabler were on the road to check on the crime scene at the construction site again. Stabler had pointed out that there was the possibility that the guy was watching the crime scene procedure and had found hints in the arrangement of Davenport's body. The way the containers had been placed channeled the view on the scene. Now they wanted to check on this fact at the scene itself.
With the sketch in hand they went along the fence, searching for the hole, they had spotted on the photos.
"Okay, here it is," Stabler said. He leaned forward to examine the hole. Looking over his shoulder he tried to estimate the distance to the containers between which Lindsay Davenport had been found. "This is a good place to watch," he mused, approaching the place where her body had been found. "It's not too far away and if nobody stood in the line of sight everything will have been plainly visible."
"So this proves the theory that he's voyeuristic?" Benson watched him skeptically. "CSU certainly did not examine the further surrounding."
"I don't think so." Stabler started for the gate again. "Let's look from the outside."
"I was astonished how you got Goren back on the case," Benson remarked as she went along the fence beside him. "And since when do you call each other by first name?"
"Wasn't me. I just asked some questions."
"You think it was Alex?"
Stabler nodded. "She grounds and balances him." They reached the entrance and turned to the right to walk the same way back outside of the fence. "I guess that's the secret of their partnership. She can just bounce off or absorb his intensity. Either way he gets rid of it and is able to remain focused. Oh, and I offered him to call me Elliot when we had a discussion. That was when you've been in Brooklyn."
Benson remained skeptical. He could tell by her frown.
"You could notice during the last days," he added. "Bobby started to fall apart without her."
"Do you believe the rumors?"
"Which one? That he's nuts or that they're a couple?"
"Chose one."
"Neither one nor the other. You have to find out how to take him. And that really is the hard part, I guess. Today he has proven that he's relatively easy to get along with. But to reach this point is quite difficult," Stabler murmured. "He's got strong issues with trust. If I wouldn't know better I'd almost say that he has some kind of social phobia."
He met his partner's incredulous stare and chuckled.
"Hey, do you remember the case with this girl who skipped classes?"
"Who was bullied almost to death by her classmates?" Benson frowned. "Yeah, I do."
"I was just reminded of what she had answered when you asked her if she'd been afraid of them before she was attacked. She said, I felt sorry for them because they fear me. None of them understands me and I don't understand them, because I never had friends of my age."
"What do you want to tell me? That this bear of a man is insecure towards others and hides it with arrogance?"
"I can imagine him in a similar situation. Not today but back in school. And no, I don't think that he's acting, I think that he just appears to be arrogant because he simply knows so much."
Benson saw his thoughtful frown and wondered.
"What have you two talked about when we were in Brooklyn?"
He did not answer at once. For a long minute he just looked at her.
"He called me arrogant and a lose cannon," he finally replied.
Benson stared at him. Slowly a mischievous grin spread over her face.
"Well, you can be both," she said.
"Oh, thanks, Liv," he grumbled, but he was grinning. "Seriously. I think that he is a very emotional and intense man. He puts his entire energy into the case he's assigned to. I think he's holding back because of us."
"Hmmm… I wonder who gave him reason to do that," she teased.
He crumpled a page of his notepad to try and shoot her.
xxx
Sitting in Eames' living room, unable to sleep, watching, waiting, he recalled his conversation with Logan from earlier that day.
"You're soul mates," Logan had said. He had choked back a laughter when he watched Goren. "You'd do everything for her, wouldn't you?" - "I'd give my life for hers."
That was what he felt and he knew that he would be true to his word if they should come in a corresponding situation. He could live with getting shot… but he could not live with losing her.
Right at the moment he was mad at her for being mad at him. Yes, she had not the same ability to read people as he had, but she was a damn fine cop and should be able to come to the same conclusion. She annoyed him and he did not know why. Because she was female?
She really is a woman, he told himself. And what a woman! My partner can turn me upside down with just one look. He sighed. She knows me so well. And yet there is enough she doesn't know, she doesn't have to know… To let her know could possibly ruin our partnership.
To think about this subject let his heart beat faster again. This afternoon had changed them, had changed their partnership, their relationship.
He would be damned if he let this endanger what they had. He would not let threaten and ruin their partnership by a mere fantasy.
xxx
Inwardly he chuckled.
There he goes, sitting in her living room, maybe sleeping on the sofa. Trying to guard her.
You should know that you can't keep her safe. If I want to get her, then I will get her.
Once more he chuckled. An evil laughter erupted from his lips and vanished into the night. His imagination ran wild and he recalled the evening at the bar.
They have been so close. I would have been able to touch them. He sneered. I almost did. When someone bumped into me, I was a mere inch away from him.
Up to this moment I never thought about the possibility not to take her. I just did realize that when Detective Mike talked about them being soul mates. Bobby's reply was prizeless.
Yeah, it will be most challenging to invite the big detective directly into the game. He did not react the way I expected him to. Maybe this all was show and he is closer than I believe him to be. I should not risk that.
To give in to this new fantasy should be satisfying. Nicky would kill me for that, but she is in jail… where she will remain for the time being.
He climbed into the loading space, where he lit up a camping lamp to finish some preparations. Soon his prey would be struggling here. As much as it could struggle. He did not plan on to give it any opportunity.
He laughed.
I'm coming. Prepare yourselves for a long and rocky road ahead.
xxx
Queens
How long had he been sleeping? Stabler did not want to know. He also did not want to find out why he woke with a start. Suddenly he had been awake, staring in the streetlight's twilight.
So he lay on his back, trying not to start to think, but to no avail. The day's events crept back in his consciousness and made it impossible to relax.
Unable to fall asleep again, Stabler slid out of the bed and sneaked out and down the stairs.
Why can't I get rid of this terrible feeling that something will happen this night? Odd feelings and suspicions are Goren's job.
He sat down on the couch in the living room and got the folder he had brought from work to spread its content over the table.
Okay, Goren said that the murder of Stephanie Fountain had been a message, but we didn't figure out what the killer wanted to tell him.
So he put these photos in the middle. Just to stare at them didn't reveal the answer, as little as it did back in the office.
It must be in the posture, he thought. The arch's telling us that she belongs to the same string of murders, but he arranged her differently. And she's the only one with closed eyes. And she was not held captive before he killed her. There are just minimal ligature marks on her wrists, so she can't have been bound for long. He just got her, tied her up, brought her in there and killed her.
She also wasn't stabbed to death. The stabs were postmortem. He broke her neck.
Then he pushed her into position.
He has planned to use this hotel room a long time ago. This guy has bought the tickets weeks in advance. He knew that he wanted to leave a body there even before he started.
Could this all really center around Bobby?
Stabler felt chilly despite of the summer's heat. He could not dismiss this feeling of something going completely wrong.
Dammit! I should sleep! How am I supposed to work when I can't get a decent night's sleep?
But he knew that there was no chance for him sleeping until he did not solve this riddle.
xxx
Manhattan
Goren got up from the sofa and stretched his hurting limbs. He yawned.
I should sleep soon, he scolded himself. Otherwise I'm really of no use tomorrow. Sleep deprivation just adds to my exhaustion and stress. It would certainly knock my brain out anytime soon.
His view wandered over to the entertainment center and fell on the digital clock of the VCR.
Today, he corrected. I'd never thought that it's so early in the morning.
He strolled over to the window and looked out down on the street. It was this time of the night, New York was almost asleep. Almost, the city never really slept. Somewhere in the nine million metropolis someone certainly was awake and active at any time.
But this street lay silent. Every so often a car passed, that was all. Goren was just about to return to the sofa when something caught his attention. He froze, his gaze resting on the next corner of the building across the street. Had he seen movement there?
Yes! Someone was right at the corner, leaning against the wall.
Shall I wake her up? Goren considered. Call for backup?
He looked out again. The shadow he had seen was gone. Had he seen anything at all?
I should check that, he mused. So he picked up his holster, fastened it to his belt and put the jacket back on. Then he got his keys and cautiously closed the door behind himself.
Down on the street he crossed the pavement and strolled over to the corner. There was nobody.
I'm chasing ghosts, Goren thought. Inwardly he chuckled. It's the stress and the tiredness. I start to see stars and non-existent people. I really should try to get some sleep before I accidentally shoot someone.
Down this road he saw a car parked in front of a small store. Nothing unusually, really, but the next second his hand jerked to his gun when he saw a man sitting in the car's passenger seat. Goren crossed the street.
"NYPD," he said, presenting his badge with his right. "Would you please come out of the car, sir?"
"Sure." Slowly, holding his hands within Goren's sight, the man opened the door and got out of the car. "Hello, Detective Goren."
Over the hood Goren looked at the guy and recognized Kirkpatrick, the P.I. from Atlanta.
"What are you doing here?" he asked suspiciously.
"I guess the same as you," Kirkpatrick replied. "I'm watching over your partner."
"Tell me why?"
"Well, she matches the profile. She'll probably attract the killer. But you already know that."
Yeah, he knew. Goren let his hand drop and fixed his jacket.
"You don't look so good," Kirkpatrick said. "Were you awake the whole time?"
Goren nodded. "More or less," he admitted. "Dozed off and woke up in minute's rhythm."
"Ugh, that's bad." The private eye grimaced. "Want some coffee?"
Coffee? He needed sleep, no coffee. On the other hand he suspected that he would not be able to sleep anyway. In this case coffee sounded great.
Kirkpatrick dove into the car again to pick the thermo and two mugs up.
"It's almost fresh. I got it from the diner around the corner." Encouragingly he held up the thermo and a mug. When he got no answer he just put everything on the hood and poured two cups, holding one to Goren. Then he drank from his own. "It's not poisoned," he joked. "C'mon, you really look as if you could use it."
Hesitantly Goren accepted the mug. Kirkpatrick took another gulp. In the car Goren saw a bag of the deli and a plastic bowl with the rests of a salad. He figured that Kirkpatrick really got the coffee from there and tasted it. The man from Atlanta grinned.
"It's good, isn't it? I'm here for the third night and this coffee served me well before." He drank again. "Why did you come down? Saw the man at the corner?"
"So you saw him, too."
"Yeah. He was smoking for a while and strolled off again. Nothing suspicious." He grinned at Goren. "The coffee's good, right?"
"I know the diner. They're always making good coffee." He appreciated the hot brew. So he took several gulps more.
"I noticed that." The P.I. sipped at his coffee, glancing over the rim. "Hey." He put his mug down on the hood. "There's someone."
"Where?"
"There, at the entrance to her house," Kirkpatrick replied and started towards Eames' apartment house.
Goren took another gulp of his coffee and followed the P.I. He did not see anyone. So he could just tag along behind the former cop down the street.
"Where is he gone?" Goren asked.
"I have seen him head this way!" Kirkpatrick turned to the left. "Perhaps we can still find him. You can park over there in the alley. We should check this."
Even with his handicapped leg he was faster when he strode for the alley now. He was not limping as bad as the other days.
"Hey, look at this. A dark van. Let's check it!" Kirkpatrick was hilarious. "Might be the van we're searching for."
As he approached, Goren also saw the dark blue van parked behind dumpsters. Must not be the one but could be. But we can't try and check every dark van in New York just because it's dark.
"I could try if it's open," Kirkpatrick said, reaching for the sliding door. "Accidentally…"
Kirkpatrick seemed to be more concentrated on Goren than on his task.
"There won't be any accidents. You're not a cop anymore."
"You just said it, I'm not a cop." And he stepped closer to the door. Looking over his shoulder he threw Goren a lopsided grin. "I never was."
Once again Goren frowned. He did not like the guy. And he did not like this grin either. Still, these simple three words did not register. Why was he staring at him this way?
"What's the matter?" Goren asked, obviously annoyed. Kirkpatrick's stare was irritating.
Kirkpatrick remained unimpressed. "I'm just waiting," he answered.
"Waiting? What are you waiting for?"
Kirkpatrick just shrugged his shoulders. "Can't take long anymore."
Goren's frown deepened.
Kirkpatrick slid the door of the van open. It revealed an empty loading space. There lay a shoe. It was a green slipper with extravagant woven leather strands and Goren knew he had seen it before.
xxx
Queens
Stabler stared at the photos spread over the low table in his living room. Right at this moment his gaze fell on the crime scene photo of Patricia Douglas and her feet. The left one of her designer slippers was missing.
He frowned. That was unlike the killer who usually was very thorough with his victims and their posture. So he picked up the photo which was only showing the feet and the green slipper. The leather strands covering the instep were woven in a complicated pattern.
But to stare at that did not help either.
Stabler threw the picture back on the table and slumped in the cushions of the backrest. He was tired, but something made him restless, unable to fall asleep.
The low sound of bare feet approaching had him look around towards the entrance.
"What are you doing here at four in the morning?" Kathy scolded.
"Thinking." He turned forward again, frowning. Then he shuffled the photos together.
"Is that necessary?" she asked.
He shook his head and pushed the photos into a folder. "I can't stop to think about what I miss," he admitted. "It must be plain to see, so plain that I miss it."
"What are you looking for?"
"Some kind of clue." The evidence was banned into the cardboard folder so he began to scribble on a pad and caught himself, making dots the way the stabs were arranged on Stephanie Fountain's body.
"Looks like stars," Kathy remarked and dropped into an easy chair opposite of the sofa he was sitting on. Her husband just stared at her. "Yeah, star constellations, zodiacs," she specified.
It had just hit her mind and she spoke out loud before she even realized it, but he jumped up and headed for the shelf to get out an atlas. Flipping through the pages he found what he was looking for, a map of star constellations.
Both of them leaned over the table to look at it. Once more it was Kathy who found the connection.
"Here," she pointed out. "Could really be one of the zodiacs, the Libra."
He bent closer and held his sketch next to it. "Yeah, that might be it… the Libra." His voice trailed off, his mind racing forward, trying to find the meaning behind the symbol. Remembering the posture, the girl was found in, he held his right arm in front of his boy, the left slightly raised… when he closed his eyes, it hit him.
"Damn!" he shouted, jumping up from the sofa. "Damn!"
"What's wrong?" Kathy asked, startled.
"Oh, shit! I can't believe it! We were so… stupid!"
"Can you scream a bit louder?" Kathy snarled at him. "The kids can't hear you."
"These dots… they make the Libra?" He pointed at the sketch. "It belongs to the case. The way, one of… what would you make of this?" he asked, standing straight, the left arm raised and the right in front of him. "If I were a woman and I would be blindfolded…"
For a moment Kathy looked at him aghast. Then realization dawned. "Justice," she said.
He nodded.
"And you know what? I'm sure that he knew… he knew it all along. That's why he acted so strange. He knew that this guy would go search for a victim working for the system, maybe the department. It was a clear sign for who he would target next. But he still played it down."
While he was talking, he went over to the hall to fetch his shoes. Coming back in, he had his jacket in hands and grabbed for the folder.
"Elliot! It's hardly half past four. Where do you want to go?"
"Knock him out of his suit," he grumbled. "I guess I know where I can find him."
"Who?"
"Goren. He will be where I would be if I had to assume that my partner's in danger."
"Wouldn't it be better to call first?"
Once again he stared at her. Then he got his cell phone and hit the quick dial he had programmed earlier. Just the mailbox.
"He's not answering. I'll go and…"
"…dress," Kathy cut him short. "You're just in shorts. You won't go anywhere like that."
xxx
Manhattan
Too obvious, was the first thought that came to Goren's mind. His instincts kicked in and alarmed him. The keys are in the lock! And these ropes… He backed off, his left hand on the butt of his gun.
"I wouldn't do this if I were you," Kirkpatrick said. He leaned against the van, watching Goren intensely. "You might hurt yourself."
Even before he could pull out the weapon Goren felt dizziness creep inside of his head. I'm just waiting, he had said. Can't take long… What? What has he done? Yet, he drew and aimed at Kirkpatrick.
"You should put the gun to the ground, Bobby," his opposite said, his voice changing. It was low, melodically and somewhat hypnotically. "Before someone's getting shot."
I don't think that's such a good idea. The tone alone gave Goren the creeps. He stepped further backwards and hit one of the dumpsters with his back.
"If you want to try, you should make sure you're killing me, because I'll otherwise be there when you're waking up again."
"You…" The coffee… Panic rose.
"What about me?" Slowly he came closer, his moves a threatening flow like the moves of a predator, like a cougar. He sounded amused, "You finally realized that you fell for it the same way all the others did? You didn't even notice. It wasn't the coffee I prepared but the cup. So I could drink the same coffee without any problem." He smiled wickedly. "Now it's too late. So put it down."
"No way." His own voice was hoarse. He could not focus on Kirkpatrick. Everything began to spin. His breaths became deeper and harder now in a futile attempt to clear his mind.
"Either you shoot now or you don't shoot at all. But think of Alex, too."
"Alex?" His vision blurred and the gun seemed to weigh a ton. His hands began to tremble with the effort it took to keep it raised. Even in his confused state of mind he realized that he had been terribly wrong and that he was about to lose this game.
"Yes, your partner. The one I wanted to take at first. But then you were so generous to offer yourself." Kirkpatrick was so close now that he almost touched the muzzle of Goren's gun with his chest. "If you drop the gun now and come with me voluntarily I won't pursue her further. Your choice."
Shoot him, a voice deep within his soul cried. But he could not pull the trigger. Instead the weight of the gun finally drew his arms down and made him stumble forward into the embrace of Kirkpatrick. The weapon was wound out of his hands and he felt the hands that grabbed his arms to spin him round and smash him into the dumpster. His arms were jerked behind his back and cuffed. When Kirkpatrick seized him backwards to the van his world was whirling, the grey walls of the surrounding buildings rotating like tumbleweeds. He was pushed inside of the loading space and Kirkpatrick followed, sliding the door shut.
Goren lay on his back, pinned to the van's floor by the other man's weight. He wanted to scream, yet, he was not able to do so.
Alex! Help! was his last conscious thought before he was lost to the swirling black stream, which swept over his mind.
tbc…
A/N: Okay. Who foresaw that? Show me some kind of reaction, please. Please! Thanks!