"Blood all over the backseat."
Flack leaned near the open window, swept the flashlight around the car interior, and noted the red on beige leather with a grimace.
"Looks like tarp there, on the floor."
"Are we to open the boot, sir?"
The flashlight flicked off. In a few minutes or so, it would be too bright for it to be of use anymore.
"Keep your gloves on, Dobbs, and don't touch anything 'til CSU gets here."
Flack turned away from the car and made a move towards the main doors. One of Cragen's guys was at the top of the stairs to meet him.
"We've processed Edward Saul."
"Has he said anything?" Flack rounded the detective and swung open the door.
"Not since he came in. Walked right up to the Captain's office and identified himself, but not a word since then. "
"His lawyer?"
"Doesn't have one, didn't asked for one," he accompanied the words with a shrug.
Flack paused, his thoughts interrupted by a random realization that the shorter man was not much older than himself.
"How long have you been in Sex Crimes?"
He looked slightly offended. "Special Victims. I transferred a year ago from the 110th."
Flack acknowledged with a nod. "Ever seen anything like this?"
"Can't say I have."
"You shouldn't have to. It's nothing to shout about." Cragen came up from behind them, a file tucked under one arm. "I'll take it from here, Martin."
"Captain." The detective excused himself.
"We've got Huang with him right now." Cragen said as he ushered Flack away from the main hall towards the interrogation room. "So far, nothing."
They stopped by the one-way mirror and observed the one-way conversation on the other side. Flack frowned and bit the inside of his cheek.
"Nothing at all?"
They watched as Huang leaned forward and pushed a piece of paper across the table. Saul merely glanced at it before turning away, a small smile playing along his lips. Cragen sighed.
"None whatsoever."
- - - - - - - - - - -
Danny was honestly expecting to find another body when he cleared the trunk. But black matte rubber?
"Bloody genius."
"I know," the officer behind him shook his head incredulously. "Dobbs said the same thing."
Lindsay emerged from the driver's seat. "What's genius?"
"Neoprene. It's bloody neoprene." Danny suppressed vocalizing the obscenity that rang through his mind. "He's got a whole outfit here, plus leather gloves, head gear..."
"No fibres, no prints." Lindsay caught on. "This sure explains it."
Danny knelt to retrieve the HemaTrace.
"Ten bucks says there's blood on this suit."
"Won't work on me, Danny. You'll have to get that ten off someone easier."
"Too smart for me, Montana."
"Well, while you were busy betting, I've got fingerprints off the steering wheel, blond hair fibers from the tarp," she lifted up a larger bag, "and this."
There was a rather bewildered silence from Danny, who had frozen with the test strip in one hand.
"In his glove compartment," she added.
"A teddy bear?"
"Paddington Bear, actually." The supervising officer offered from where he was standing. Danny and Lindsay exchanged looks.
"Vic's or…?"
"Saul's?" She frowned. "It's anybody's guess."
Danny looked down at the two coloured bands that appeared on the strip. "Right. Well, this's blood, and it's human. Where's Mac?"
"He's still inside."
"Alright, I'll get this back to DNA. There has to be at least Angela Winston's blood on this. Catch you back at the lab."
- - - - - - - - - -
"The public attorney's on his way down."
"It won't make a difference, Captain. He might not talk to him either."
"So what, he waltzes in here, then clams up on us? What is he, mad?"
"Madness is a very misused term."
"Huang..."
The shutters clanged against the door when Mac closed it behind him.
"Captain. What's happening about Saul?"
"He's here, but he's saying nothing,"
Flack blew out a breath. "The defense can plead no contest at the rate this is going. Or not guilty, on his behalf. That's what they're paid to do, isn't it?"
"Evidence doesn't lie." Mac crossed his arms. "Whatever he pleads, he's not getting away. Where does this put us with the charges?"
Cragen sat back in his chair. "We can detain him until arraignment; that's been set for next Monday. But he's not said anything that is even remotely incriminating. He's taken the Miranda rights to the extreme."
"It's nothing to do with rights." The three men turned to the Asian psychologist. "He's not protecting himself from prosecution; he turned himself in. He's ready to be charged, but he still doesn't see his actions as crimes. You saw how pleased he was, Captain. As if he was proud to be in his situation."
"Like, a martyr complex?"
"Pretty much, Detective. From what I saw, there was no remorse or fear. He knows he's wrong in the eyes of the law, but at the same time, he's convinced his actions were justified."
"So," Flack prompted, "why won't he talk?"
Huang smiled. "It's always the 'why?' that's the million dollar question. Honestly, I can't say for sure. Perhaps he's waiting to meet someone whom he thinks operates on the same level as he does, who would understand his motive and reasons."
"Not just the 'how', but the 'why'." Mac shook his head. He disliked the nebulous ambiguity of psychoanalysis, the guesswork of forensic psychology that felt fragile in the absence of hard physical facts. "And you're not that person?"
"I don't make the rules this time, Detective. Saul does. He'll talk when he's ready. Until then..."
"Until then, we keep working on the evidence." Cragen gestured at the CSI.
"Monday's time enough for us to process what we got from his car."
Cragen smiled grimly. "We'll hand him over to you when you're ready."
- - - - - - - - - -
Adam sat back and rubbed his eyes. The lab had been overworked more than usual the past two days. Danny's new pile of evidence sat in front of him, laid out and labeled and waiting to be joined by Lindsay's.
"Adam."
He groaned softly. "Sheldon. More stuff to run through the scopes?"
"You're not very enthusiastic for a forensic lab tech." Hawkes held up two Styrofoam cups.
"There's a conspiracy between Bronx kids and Edward Saul to work me to death."
"That's why you need me for your caffeine boost." Hawkes grinned as Adam got up to get the cup off him. They stepped into the hallway to catch a quick break.
Adam pulled back as the coffee burnt his tongue. "What are you here for?"
"Fingerprint analysis." Hawkes indicated the room behind him. "Knives with blood – got to find out who was holding the handle and who was on the other end."
"Hey Hawkes, "Danny rounded the corner, waving a file. "Adam. Petroleum jelly; leather gloves."
"Petroleum jelly? Leather gloves?"
"Exactly. Bet that's what we'll find when we swab the gloves." He turned to Hawkes. "Get this. Neoprene wetsuit and head gear, leather gloves, climbing shoes: Saul is hell insane, but damn it he knew what he was doing."
Hawkes shook his head in disbelief. "I heard he turned himself in last night."
"For reasons unknown. But Mac says he's standing mute. Not talking to any of the Special Vics detectives, probably won't talk to his attorney either."
"His loss. The evidence ought to be more than sufficient to convict him."
Danny stared, then whistled low. "Now that was straight from the boss' mouth."
TBC
A/N:
To all the readers out there – sorry to have kept you waiting a month, and thanks so much for your patience. Hope this would tide you guys over until I get the next chapter up. Thanks again, hope you've enjoyed the story so far, and as usual, constructive criticism is always welcomed.
Disclaimer: I profess only layman knowledge of the US legal system, so apologies if there's incorrect information up here in the story. Uhm, SVU characters who keep popping their heads into this story – Property of NBC Still not a cross-over. And if anyone knows whether Neoprene is as untraceable as I made it out to be… Yeah. Cheers.
