A/N: Alright all. You're getting three chapters tonight. But I'm not sure when I'll be able to post next. The baby is coming very very soon. Within the next chapter or two. And I've seen that some want a girl and some are good with a boy. It is a boy. There is no changing it. I've written more than twenty chapters ahead of this. It's a boy. Have fun reading!
Chapter Thirty-Four
Emily
"Guess who." I say when I cover Don's eyes with my hands.
"I saw you walk in Emily."
I scoff. "You don't make this fun anymore." I kiss the top of his head since he's sitting and I sit next to him with lunch hanging off my arm. "All right guess what I got."
"Chinese, the bag gave it away." I give him my most fake mad look. He laughs and pokes my nose.
"Fine, let's eat." Don and I are in the middle of a conversation about our families when I get a call. "Emily Flack."
"DB in an auction house."
"Be there soon." I hang up. "You'll never guess the case I just called into."
"The same one as me, body in an auction house." I frown.
"Am I ever going to win with you?"
"Looks like a gunshot wound to the stomach," I say as I roll over the dead body.
"Our vic's name is Xander Green. He worked at the auction house as an appraiser for the last three years," Don says.
"I want everyone who attended the auction tested for GSR."
"That might be tough, Mac. After our boy took a face plant and expired, half the guests hit the road, thinking this might be some kind of robbery."
"What about witnesses? Anyone hear a gunshot?"
"Everyone I spoke to said this room was in a feeding frenzy. The only thing they heard was the sound of some rich guy getting ready to dump 600 large on a necklace."
"On a piece of jewelry?" I ask.
"Guess some people are recession-proof."
"Either that or they don't read the financial news because this was a full house and the bids started at a hundred grand."
"So the auction house stood to make a killing," I say.
"They're not the only ones," Mac says. I take photos of the body and the surrounding area. Mac searches the pockets and finds something. "Got a cell phone with an outgoing call in progress. Hello. This is Detective Mac Taylor, anyone there?"
"How long has it been active?"
"Guess Don," I say.
Mac rolls his eyes at our banter. "48 minutes."
"48 minutes Em." I roll my eyes. "Okay, 'cause according to witnesses, our vic dropped about 40 minutes ago."
"So the call was made right around the shooting; means there may be a witness who heard something," I say.
"Flack, reach out to the phone company. See who this number belongs to."
I go back to the lab and I am walking past Sheldon's office when I see that he's distressed. I go in.
"Hey, Doc. You okay?"
"My uncle Frank had heart attack. He's dead."
"I'm sorry, buddy."
"I just talked to him on Sunday. He was talking about his summer visit. He comes every July."
"Yeah, yeah, I know, I remember. You guys were tight."
"You know, when I graduated from med school, my uncle Frank made this sign and he put it on his front lawn, and it said: 'This is the home of the very proud uncle of Dr. Sheldon Hawkes.' Funeral's day after tomorrow."
"All right, well, you know what? Don't worry about anything, all right? I got your back." I walk around and I wrap an arm around him.
"Thanks, Emily." He turns and he hugs me, his eyes filled with tears.
"I'm sorry, buddy."
"All right."
I go into the A/V lab and Danny and I work on the phone call. It's nice to just sit. Danny knows what's going on with Hawkes so he and I are going to do everything we can to make him feel better while he's still here.
All of the sudden, Mac comes in and taps both Danny and I on our shoulders. "What do you have so far?"
"The 48 minute call you found in progress originating from the vic's phone around TOD went to voice mail, so Flack subpoenaed the phone records and we got a recording," Danny says.
"What are you doing here?" I stop the tape in progress.
"That's our vic," I tell Mac. "I ran a voice comparison to his outgoing message and I got a match."
"Boom."
"The rest gets interesting," I say.
"What the hell is that? What do you think you're doing?" There's a struggle and then a gunshot.
"And the rest is just reactions, chaos, us showing up."
"Got a cell phone with an outgoing call in progress," Mac says.
"How long has it been active?" Don asks.
"That's pretty much it. Nothing audio-wise on our shooter."
"What about the person who received the call?"
"You ready for this? You're going to love it," I say pulling up the information.
"Michael Elgers?"
"Everyone's favorite Neo-Nazi," Danny says. "Turns out Xander called him twice before the call you just heard, and according to the phone records, he answered both of those calls."
"So maybe he was a witness."
"It doesn't add up," Danny says. "I mean, a guy who works on Madison Avenue associating with a low-life skinhead?"
"Maybe it's less an association and more an affiliation."
"Emily, pull up those pictures that Sid took of the vic's tattoo." I do and Mac uses the iPad to draw a Nazi symbol on it. I frown.
"All right Danny, let's go interview Michael Elgers." He nods and we both get up. We go to the elevator and when it opens we walk in and Sheldon walks out.
"Yo, what are you doing here? Thought you were on your way to Michigan," Danny asks.
"Flight's delayed three hours. Figured work would help me take my mind off things. Where you headed?"
"We're headed to interview a potential witness," I say.
"Mind if I tag along?"
"Actually, I don't know if you want to do that bud," I say.
"Why? What's up?"
"It's Michael Elgers," Danny tells him.
"So he's a racist. That's his problem, not mine." I shrug.
"Then I won't go. See you back at the precinct Danny?" He nods and they go to his place of work.
"You'll never guess what just happened," I tell Don.
"I already heard about Hawkes' uncle dying. Danny told me."
"Should I just not any more? But no, that's not what I was going to say. Michael Elgers is a suspect."
"Really?" Don asks.
"Let me guess, you already knew."
"No actually I didn't."
"And I'm going to..."
"Interview him. With me of course. Obviously."
"Again, should I just not bother telling you anything any more." Don rolls his eyes.
"You know I love to hear your voice. Something I do know before you tell me but I let you tell me just so I can hear you talk to me." I smile.
"Good choice of words," I say. "Let's go talk to Michael Elgers." I take a seat as does Don.
"I want a lawyer."
"I want to win the lotto," Don says.
"That cannoli-eating punk assaulted me."
"I hear different. I hear you resisted arrest," I say, sitting up, folding my hands, leaning against the table.
"Ask the negro what happened."
"Sorry, pal, I don't speak ignorant," Don says.
"But I tell you what..." He tells his story as Don walks around him and sits on the edge of the table, next Elgers.
"You're a lawyer?" Elgers asks.
"Try again." Mac motions with his head for Don and I to leave and we do.
"He's a dirt bag," Don says as we sit down. I nod. He leans in towards my stomach. "Don't insult people, Thomas. It's not nice. Do as I say, not do as I do." He kisses my stomach and leans up again. I laugh.
"Emily, can you go talk to someone for me?" Mac says coming out. I nod.
"Abraham. Call me Abraham."
I smile. "Abraham. According to Felix Marshall, the auction house, you were a guest at their auction yesterday?"
"Yes, I was there. Well, a witness heard your name mentioned during an altercation with an appraiser, Xander Green."
"Xander Green is a ganef, a thief. He told me he would appraise the piece of jewelry I was selling for more than it was worth. You can ask him yourself, but I imagine he'll deny our conversation for fear of losing his job."
"I'm afraid he no longer has to worry about that. Xander Green was murdered yesterday during the auction." He looks up at me, surprised. "Abraham, tell me about the rest of your night."
"Detective, I wish I could help you, but I left after the preview."
"You didn't stay around to see how much your piece sold for?"
"The item I gave Mr. Green to sell belonged to my late wife. It was her most prized possession. She loved wearing it. I could not bear to see it go to some stranger."
"Mr. Klein, why did you sell it if it meant so much to you?" He pauses.
"I see you wear a watch." He motions for it and I take it off. "Most people today, they don't see the need. They have clocks and everything else right on their cell phones. What I do, there isn't much use for it anymore. But that doesn't stop my son, David. He wanted to be close to me, so he asked me to teach him. And now what does he have? In five years, this place will be gone. What happens to David and his family then? I didn't want to part with it but my wife's jewel yesterday sold for over $300,000 without cheating anyone. That money will help when the time comes." His son comes over and shows his finished product. "Oh, very good work. Good, good, good. David, say hello to Detective Emily Flack."
"Everything all right?"
"It's nothing, nothing. Uh, David, be sure and finish cleaning Mr. Polanski's pocket watch."
"Okay, Pop."
"My boy." He looks at him proud.
"I'm 38 weeks pregnant with a boy too," I tell him. He smiles. "How did you get those scratches?" I ask.
"These scratches? After our conversation, Mr. Green tried to throw me out of his office."
"Would you, uh, mind if I photograph them?" I get my phone out.
"Of course not." He puts his arm up.
"Can you pull up your sleeve, please?"
"Like that?" I nod, seeing the numbers tattooed into his arm. I momentarily pause. Is he... was he in the concentration camps? He was young enough then. Oh lord. I take the picture. "I was in Auschwitz. It was a very long time ago."
"Did Mr. Green ever share any of his anti-Semitic views?"
"I never told Mr. Green I was Jewish. I don't find it necessary to advertise that. Maybe it was the camp that changed things. When I came to this country, I had no desire to be a religious man. But my son makes up for both of us. He says, 'Pop we must remember.' I say, 'sometimes, it's better to forget.' Ah."
"Thank you for your time, Mr. Klein."
I get back to the precinct just as Don was walking out.
"What's going on?" I ask.
"Mac's bringing your kit, someone broke into the vic's apartment." I pivot.
"Okay." I get into the passenger seat of the car and we are off. "I talked to the sweetest old man today," I tell Don.
"What happened?"
"He knew the appraiser. Turns out the apraiser was an asshole neo-nazi as well."
"Oh jeez." I nod. I bend to my stomach. "Thomas, no swearing. Do as I say, not do as I do." Don laughs.
"Hey, guys," Don says as we walk in. "So, the neighbor came home, saw that the door broken, knew that the vic was dead, called 911. Intruder must've heard her, 'cause then he ran."
"Place doesn't look tossed."
"Maybe our guy ran out of time," Don suggests. Something catches Mac's eye. He walks over to the bookshelf.
"Or maybe he knew where to find what he was looking for. Flack. Take a look at this wear mark," Mac says. We both walk over, whenever he gets lazy and doesn't want to say Flack and Emily or Emily and Flack, he just says Flack.
"Someone moved the bookcase," Don says.
"Often," I say. They motion to move the book case and they do. Oh man, my husband looked sexy doing it too. Mac opens the door. "We just found our closet Nazi's closet," I say.
"Take this," Mac says, handing his flashlight to Don. Mac takes a cup and pours teeth out of it. Gross.
"Please tell me those aren't what I think they are," Don says. "All this stuff's from the Holocaust, isn't it?" Don asks. I nod.
"Xander was celebrating their genocide."
"Mac!" Adam says. He comes in and looks around. He's speechless, till he remembers why he came in in the first place. "I just got a hit off one of the prints I lifted off the broken door lock. Michael Elgers."
"That was fast. He just got released," Don says.
"Obviously, he misses us," Mac says. I go back to the precinct because I know Don is going to have some words to say.
"What happened to your suit?" I ask as Don walks up to me.
"Something splattered on it when I was chasing down Elgers."
"Well guess what?"
"You know how to get it out?"
"No, I'll let the dry cleaners take care of that one. But I've got another suit for you in the car and we are off soon."
"Oh, really? I like that."
"Did you just guess wrong?" I get really excited. "Did that really just happen?" I throw my hands up in the air. "Yes. Boo ya!" I say, quite loudly. My face turns red. "Oops." Don laughs at me. "All right. I'm going to get you a new suit shirt, tie, and jacket."
I walk outside to the car. I walk up to it but I see something on it, under the widesheild wiper. It's addressed to Flack. I don't know which one of us. I walk to my side and I get some gloves. I pick it up and I bring it back inside.
"Don!" I shout as I walk through the precinct, not caring what others think. "Just got another letter."
His eyes widen.
"Open it."
"I'm working on it!" When I get it open it's pictures of me and Don around our apartment, of me getting dressed, of Don and I in our most intimate of times. What the hell? "Don," I turn to him my face red, tears brimming in my eyes. I bite my lip to hold back the tears. He wraps his arms around me and I try to hold back the tears.
"We need to call Mac about this."
"Do we really want Mac to see us having sex?" I ask Don. "Me, naked and pregnant. I don't. I trust Stella, I think we should have Stella do it. Maybe even Lindsay when she gets back."
"When she get's back I'm sure she'll be on maternity leave for a while. Have Stella do it if you're really not comfortable with Mac doing it. I mean, he has seen you grow up, right? Changed your diper and everything?"
"But that doesn't count, I was a baby. I didn't have babies in me."
"Call Stel then." I nod. I look up at Don.
"I'm scared," I tell him.
"I know. But you're here with me. I've got you. I won't let anyone hurt you or Thomas. I promise. I love you so much Emily."
"I love you too Donnie." I wipe my nose. "I'm gonna call Stella. You, go change." He smirks at me and I sit in his chair. I use his phone to call her.
"Hello?"
"Hey Stel."
"Em what's wrong? Have you been crying? Did Flack do something?"
"No, he's been the best husband. But uh, yeah I have been crying."
"What is it?"
"Can you see Don and I in your office in like ten minutes? We need to speak with you privately."
"Of course. I'll meet you in here."
"Thank you Stel."
"Anything for you two."
Don and I walk into Stella's office and we shut the door. She motions for us to sit down and we do.
"Stella, these past couple of weeks have been a bit hectic for us," Don says. "Em got a letter," I hand it to her. "Which she already processed, including the envelope. She got nothing and Mac got nothing as well. And then we both just got this." I hand her the most recent.
"We just got this today and it was on the car under the windshield wiper." I tell her. "Now we trust you with this because well you've known us for years and because there are some very explicit photos in there. Us around the apartment, me naked, us having sex."
"And you don't want to go to Mac because of the explicit photos." We nod.
"Can you help, Stel? Please?" She nods. We both let out a sigh of relief.
"Thank you."
Don and I head home and we close all of the curtains. Don lays down on the bed as do I. I curl into him and he wraps his arms around me, curling himself around me.
"Emily, I love you so much. I just really wanted you to know that."
"I love you too Donnie. I do. And I do know that you love me. You wouldn't have married me if you didn't." He smiles.
"With you everything is right. Everything I do, I feel support. Everything that happens for the worse, I feel your love. Everything for the better, I feel that same love as if I was poor and sick and on the streets. I know you'd still love me then too."
"I would."
"And I will be forever thankful that I have you in my life you're the best thing that has ever happened to me." I pull his lips to mine.
The next morning, Don is wrapped around me tightly, like he doesn't want to let me go. But frankley he's going to have to because Thomas is on my bladder... again.
"Don," I whisper.
"Hm?"
"I have to get up, get off. I'll come back and cuddle in like five minutes." He turns onto his back, letting me go and I do.
I come back five minutes later like I said I would and I crawl back into bed and I cuddle with Don. He loves it. Deep down, he's a big cuddler. Just like I told Lindsay a while back, he seems like a big brute but deep down he's a giant teddy bear.
"Hm, Em?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you going to interrogate with me today?"
"Can I?"
"I don't see why not."
"Okay. I can do that. Oh hey, my sister wants a picture of us while I'm pregnant."
"Okay."
"And I'm gonna go buy a dog."
"Okay."
"And babe, I want a million dollars. Can you do that?"
"Okay."
I roll my eyes, a smile playing on my face. I lean down and I kiss his chest. "Okay babe. I'm going to make breakfast. We've got some stuff to do today."
As I'm getting ready for work in the bathroom in front of the mirror Don comes up to me, tie not on yet, and his shirt is still undone a bit.
"Ready for that picture?"
"So you did hear me."
"Yeah and you're not getting a puppy or a million dollars." I laugh. "Win the lotto." I smile and I get my phone out.
"All right Don strike a pose!" I move so my back is against his side and my belly is showing just how big it really is and he just stands there, thumb hooked into the hip belt loop and his other hand is dangling in front of him, that thumb tucked into his pants. I take the picture, both of us smiling. "Perfect babe. Thank you."
"Of course." He hands me his tie and then buttons his shirt all the way up.
I walk into the interrogation room to find Abraham Klein sitting there. Mac told me he lied about who he is.
"Listen, Detective, I..."
"We found this journal in Xander Green's house," I interrupt. "It belonged to a Holocaust victim named Esther Schnitzler. You remember her?"
"I'm sorry, Detective, I don't."
"Well, you may have tried to forget, but you know who I'm talking about."
"I know no one by that name. It was a long time ago. So many died."
"But how many at your hands Braun?" He looks up at me shocked.
"What are you talking about? You seem to have me confused with someone else. Who is Braun?"
"Xander Green recognized this broach from Esther's journal when you brought it to him, didn't he?" I say opening the journal. "Didn't he? But Xander didn't turn you in to the authorities. Why not?" He sighs. "Did he try to blackmail you, is that it? Trying to get you to share some of the broach money? You couldn't risk someone like Xander knowing your secret, so you killed him."
"No. No! You're wrong! I did no such thing."
I open a file and I flip to a picture.
"This is you- Klaus Braun- in 1942, in your hometown of Strausberg, Germany."
"In 1942, I was living in the Warsaw Ghetto."
"You're lying," I say. I get a picture out where he is standing in formation with a two others. "From 1941 till 1943, you were a member of Hitler Youth, a paramilitary organization of the Hitler party assigned to round up Jews trying to escape the Final Solution. When we enlarged this photo, we found the murder weapon you used to kill Xander Green. Detectives are on their way to your house right now with a warrant. I guarantee you, we will find that weapon."
"Detective! I have done nothing wrong! How can I be a Nazi when I have this?" He asks holding up his arm with the numbers on it. "This is proof!"
"No. This is proof. Lou Sokolov." I put down pictures of someone's arm with numbers tattooed there as well. "I'm sure you remember him. He and a few assistants tattooed every prisoner in Auschwitz from mid '42 until the war ended. This is their work. The handwriting on your arm doesn't match. I bet if I take a sample of this ink, it won't come back as Koh-I-Noor, the brand used at the camps. You did this tattoo yourself."
"That's ridiculous. I am a Jew! You saw my son, David. He is a Jew!"
"Because he thought you were! And that God had saved you!" I yell at him. "He was probably so grateful that you had survived the atrocities of the Holocaust. What he didn't know, is that you helped perpetrate them. You lied to your family. Your friends. But you had no choice, did you? After the war, you had to go into hiding. And so you pretended to be what you despise the most so you could get into this country and elude discovery and capture! And it worked for almost 60 years. Until you sold this broach. And then something intervened. Fate. Karma. Personally, I like to think it was God."
"I don't know why you think these things," he tells me.
"Enough!" I say, my mom voice slipping out. "Enough. This is over, Braun. It's over."
"My name is Abraham Klein!" He yells at me.
"Your name is Klaus Braun," I tell him, mom voice still out. He scoffs. "Don't bother denying it! There are men from the Israeli government here to verify your identity." He starts mumbling. "You have something to say, Braun? Do you have something to say?!"
He starts speaking in German. Why the hell didn't I learn German? I walk out with Klaus handcuffed and some unis behind him. His son stands up and I sigh. His son walks away.
"David!" Klaus calls to him. He is lead away and I close the door and lean against it. Time for a nap.
Mac comes up to me. "Are you all right?" He asks.
I nod. "Yeah, just tired. I did a lot of yelling." I yawn.
"Well we got him."
"What did he say in German?"
"The man from the Israeli government said, 'we should have killed them all'." My eyes widen. I shake my head.
"I'm glad we got him."
