Chapter 12: Standard Deviation

As soon as Goren and Eames entered Major Case the next morning, Ross came out to talk to them. "You're late, Detective," he commented neutrally to Goren.

"Car trouble," Eames supplied for him. "What's up?"

"I had an urgent memo waiting for me this morning. It was from none other than Steven Ensor. A waitress called his tip line to report seeing Varina and an unknown man at her restaurant the night she died."

"We'll need to question her," Goren said.

"I've already arranged it. She'll be here as soon as she's finished with the sketch artist."

"They both had the escargot. It didn't look to me like they were on a date, but I overheard the woman say she thought he looked familiar," said the waitress, Lynette Fuentes.

"What do you remember about what they talked about?" Eames asked.

She shook her head slowly. "The woman sounded like she was pitching a business deal. The man would just listen and nod sometimes. I really wasn't paying much attention."

"Did they leave together?"

"Um," she tried to remember. "The woman paid the bill and the tip. The man...I think he was saying something about having to get going. I think he left first. And he didn't have anything to drink. The woman had two glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon, but the man just had water."

Goren asked, "Do you remember anything else? What he was wearing, how he acted? Anything you remember will help."

"No. I'm sorry. He acted a little nervous, though," she added, "but just at first. He was playing with his food. Oh, and he was left-handed."

"Do you remember if Varina left the table during the dinner?" Goren asked.

"Yeah. When I came to top off their water, the man said she went to the ladies' room."

"Thank you."

"So, if you find the guy, can you let Mr. Ensor know I helped you so I can get the reward money?"

"Sure. We'll make sure we do that," Eames said.

When the waitress was escorted out, Eames looked at Goren questioningly, waiting for him to explain what he figured out.

"They both ordered escargot," he commented. "I'm betting he poisoned his own plate and switched them when she left the table. That's why he was playing with his food."

"So we're pretty sure Remiel Green is our killer, but unfortunately we have no idea who Remiel Green is."

"Or what motivated him to kill her," Goren added. "If we find one, we might have the answer to the other."

A blond woman in a faded and torn denim jacket entered the dimly lit space. She looked around before moving through the gathering. Moments later, a large man in a black outfit entered. His salt-and-pepper scruffy beard and hair were disheveled, making him look slightly unstable.

They didn't draw second glances in this place.

The condemned warehouse was poorly lit. The odors of sweat, blood, alcohol, marijuana, and tobacco mingled with the sounds of fighting and cheering in the crowded air. Though it was hard to tell in the uneven light, there seemed to be at least a hundred people in the room.

The petite woman elbowed her way to the caged fight rink at the center of the room. Three spotlights were trained on the fighters. She didn't flinch as one of the men slammed the other into the side of the cage. The man against the wire, ignoring the cuts digging into his back, grabbed the metal to lift himself up and kicked the first man in the gut.

The large man who had entered the room after the woman stayed back in the shadows. His eyes swept the room, as though looking for someone.

The fight ended with one man knocked unconscious. The woman in the denim jacket glanced around furtively. In the confusion of movement after the victory, the two fighters were carried out of the cage and two new ones took their place.

The fight began with the throwing of a few body punches, then one of the men rushed at the other, who stepped back and caught him in a head lock.

The woman glanced back, as though nervous, and ran her fingers through her hair.

The large man's eyes fixed on her. He suddenly pushed his way through the crowd around the cage, knocking aside anyone who didn't get out of his way. He grabbed the blond woman by the collar of her jacket and forcefully turned her to face him. "What do you think you're doing? What did I tell you about coming here?" he demanded angrily, loud enough to be heard by nearby spectators over the noise of the fight.

She knocked his hand away. "Don't tell me what to do!"

He grabbed her arm and started dragging her back toward the door. The scene they were making was beginning to draw attention away from the actual fight. "I can tell you whatever I want."

She elbowed him and tried to pull away. He twisted her arm and pushed her against the wall.

"Let go of me!" she yelled.

"Hey!"

Without releasing her, the man turned at the exclamation to see a slender, well-dressed bald man between two bodyguards. "What do you want?" he asked gruffly.

"What's going on here?"

"None of your business."

"You're in my place, so that makes it my business," the man replied.

"Fine. We were just leaving." He yanked the woman back and started pushing her toward the door.

She looked over her shoulder. "Get this loser away from me!" She struggled against the man's strong grip.

In the dark of the parking lot outside, he shoved her to the ground. "This is the last time..."

The three men followed them out the door. "I think you should leave," the bald man said.

"We will." The man in the dark suit turned toward him. "But first I want to know something."

"What?"

"Are you Ted?"

The man suddenly looked very confused.

The woman stood and held out a badge. "We're NYPD. I'm Detective Eames, this is Detective Goren. We're not here to shut you down; we just have a few questions."

"I have a few of my own," Ted replied. "How did you find me, and how do I know you won't break up my business if I cooperate?"

"Doesn't matter how we found you, and you'll just have to take our word for it," Eames answered.

Goren took out a photograph of Varina Ensor. "Have you ever seen this woman here?"

Ted flinched when he recognized the dead woman. "That's Brenda. Yes, she's been here. But she was alive the last time I saw her."

"We know," Goren said, putting away the photograph. "When did you last see her?"

"Two weeks ago."

"Do you know of anyone who wanted 'Brenda' dead?" asked Eames.

He hesitated. "A while ago, she was accused of fixing fights."

Eames eyebrows rose. "Accused by whom?"

Ted hesitated again. "She usually bets on this fighter called Rhino. Some of the guys he beat started suggesting she doped him up before his fights."

The detectives exchanged glances. "We'll need to talk to Rhino and the other fighters," Goren said.

"That won't be possible," Ted informed them. "I don't know these men's real names, where they live, or what they do when they're not here. This business depends on anonymity. Now, unless you're going to arrest me, we're done."

"Then we'll arrest you," Eames stated.

"You do that, and in a minute this place will be empty. You'll never get the info you're looking for. Look, here's what I can do: I'll talk to Rhino and try to convince him to meet with you, off the record."

"Not good enough," Goren said. "We have to talk to the people he fought."

"Do you have any idea the shelf life of the typical fighter? Most of those guys are long gone. I'm sorry about what happened to Brenda, but people get hurt in this business. It's just a fact. Now I suggest you leave, for real."

Eames handed him her card. "If we don't hear from you, we can always find you again," she threatened.

"If she was fixing fights she was giving a lot of people plenty of reason to want her dead," Eames said as they drove away.

"That was probably part of the rush. It wasn't about the money for her, it was the thrill of the fight," Goren said. "Are you okay? I tried not to hurt you when I twisted your arm."

"It's fine," said Eames.

"Are you sure? I didn't mean to push you that hard..."

"Bobby," she smiled in amusement, "don't forget it was my idea to draw Ted out by staging a fight. You played your part just fine."

"Can we just...never do that one again?"

"Fine," Eames said, still smiling at his concern for her. She took his hand. "I'm sorry I put you through that. But I knew how careful you would be. I trust you with my life."

He looked at their hands. He'd been through so much in his life, so much pain and so much loss, it was hard to believe that something good could ever happen to him, something as good as being loved by Eames. "Thank you," he whispered.

She stopped the car in his apartment's parking lot, turned to him, and kissed him. He kissed her back, softly trailing his fingertips across her ckeeks. They didn't stop for a long time.