Also, I claim no knowlegde of our legal system. I look up what I can, and the research is done, but I do not back up what I have written from a legal stand point. However, just because something is wrong does not mean I want it to stay that way. If you catch a boo-boo, please LET ME KNOW!! I will do what I can to [hopefully] fix it, or warn people of the mistake.
Chapter Three: Ninth Ave
Miranda's Working Street
Ninth Ave
Tuesday, May 1st
Fin pulled up to the curb on Ninth Ave, leaning back and scanning for a familiar face in the crowd of offering ladies. While he was looking, an ebony beauty sized him up and went in for the kill, her green dress cut short, legs and thighs showing.
"Looking for some chocolate to go with your mocha tonight, baby?" She leaned in the window and trailed her manicured nail over his face.
He smiled. "No, thanks," he said pulling out his badge. "I'm not really one for ABC dates."
Her sultry smiled vanished, her lips drawing into a thin line. She subtly put her hand behind her back, no doubt warning the rest of the women of police presence. "Why whatever could you what, officer?"
Munch moved into her line of view from the passenger's seat as the hookers started to disband. "Officers. We're from SVU and we just want to ask about Miranda Faulkner."
She turned around. "Nevermind, girls. Sex crimes. They want to know about, Mir."
Two of the women, a redhead and a woman wearing a raven-colored wig, came up to the window. The redhead scooted in close to her friend, still in the window eyeing Fin. "Is she okay?"
Fin shook his head. "I'm afraid not. She was found dead in Tribeca earlier this morning."
The woman wearing the wig, backed off, her hands flying to her mouth and bumped into one of her friends. She fell to the ground, and the redhead turned around to help her.
The ebony wonder turned back to Fin and Munch. "Samoa over there took a real liking to Miranda." She paused and took a deep breath. "Actually we all did." Her eyes watered a bit.
"You wouldn't happen to remember what her last client looked like would you?"
She looked at Fin and shook her head. "No. We watch out for each other and all, but if they don't look like a celebrity, or like a serial killer, we usually forget 'em. Even if it was us that slept with 'em, you know?" She put her hand lightly on Fin's face. "I wouldn't forget you though, honey."
He took her hand and pushed it back to her. "How touching. Pity I ain't offering."
She smiled at him, eyes melancholy. "Yes, it is."
"Didn't any of you remember the guy?" Munch asked, hinting towards her group of friends.
"It was a while a go."
"How about when she didn't come back the next night. Didn't you think that was a little suspicious?"
She shook her head, not a carefully placed hair budging. "We all knew about Mir's plans to start a real job and help get Jen off the streets. Actually gonna pay for the kid's tuition to that beauty college, or whatever. When she didn't come back, we figured retirement came early."
"Could you just ask 'em?" inquired Fin.
"Don't move." She walked off.
Fin leaned his head back, sighing and closed his eyes. "I have got to get a goddamn woman in my life."
"Looking tempting?"
He turned to his partner. "She's gorgeous, but I don't play that game. Who knows where the hell she's been?"
"Just lonely then?"
Raising an eyebrow, Fin spoke. "And you're Mr. Prosperous in the love segment of your life? Mr. Blithe?"
"Try Mr. Jaded."
"More like Mr. Petulant, to me."
The woman came back and leaned in the window, a little further away from Fin than the last time. "White guy. That's about it. Nobody remembers him, but we are missing three girls. Sammy and Charlotte said they remember a guy with blond hair but the couldn't remember it if was short or shoulder length. And Julia said that he had a beard, although I don't think I've seen a guy with a beard in a while. Maybe a goatee."
Fin handed him a card. "That's our number in case one of those other three girls remember something you didn't."
"And in case I get lonely?" She asked, backing up from the car.
"I doubt that'll be happening." Fin muttered and stepped on the gas.
* * * * *
Wednesday, May 2nd
Munch shivered from the cold biting through his coat. At least it's warming up, he thought sarcastically. A whole two degrees up from yesterday.
He walked up the station house steps and into the building where he saw Ellandra Seymour ahead of him in her washed out burgundy leather jacket, her curly fire-red hair sprouting untamed from her head, like Medusa's snakes.
He couldn't help but getting tense, despite his partner's reassurances that she was nice enough, and that the files never lie. Tutuola, as good a cop as he was, seemed downright naïve when it came to the pretty shrink. Her files proved she was loyal to her departments and unerringly intelligent, but then again IAB and the Commission would have the power to remove anything that would make her look less than the perfect saint when it came to inter-department relations.
There were certain discussions that would never leave the rooms of the "higher ups", and a shrink's confessions about her colleagues was just such a discussion.
Not that he really had much to worry about. He was a good cop... now, anyway. He'd been through that rough cop deal. He was far from being the straight arrow, but his nicks and bends didn't show too much.
He was more afraid of losing one of his friends because a psychologist thought the job was "getting to them".
Munch walked into the squadroom to find a young, curly haired woman sitting at his desk with her feet propped comfortably up on his desk. She was sucking on a lollypop nervously and dressed according to the 1980's movie standards for hooker fashions: fishnet stockings, daisy-dukes, cut-off sleeveless shirt and high heeled boots.
"Comfortable?" he asked the woman. She looked up at him with a distressed look on her face and nodded, then went back to her lollypop.
Olivia approached him and pulled him aside. "She's been here since six-thirty. For more than an hour she's been sitting there. I don't know how many suckers she has in her purse, but she hasn't been without on since he got here. She won't talk to anyone but you and Fin. She thinks she'll be arrested otherwise." Benson handed him Fin's card. "She said she got this from a Belle?"
Munch nodded. "Fin gave one of the women his card last night."
"Liv," called Stabler from his desk. He was looking at a file. "Come and look at this."
"She said her name's Winnie." Benson said, and walked towards her partner.
Munch walked up to his desk. "Hi. I'm John Munch."
Winnie looked up at him, and quickly got out of his seat. "Sorry about that. It's just- I've been here for a while, you know?"
He gestured that she could sit back down. "I understand. Can I ask what you wanted to talk about?"
She looked around nervously. "Where's your partner?" She pointed to the card. "Detective Tutuola, right?"
"Right. He's coming."
"Well, it's about Miri's trick the other night. When's your partner coming, though? 'Cause Belle said I should talk to him and you, and no one else."
"You want to wait for him?"
She nodded vehemently.
"I'll get him, then."
Her feet started to go back up on his desk, but he shook his head, pulling them back to the floor.
"Oh, right." She smiled. "Sorry about that."
John opened his cell phone watching the young girl at his desk, no more than 23 or 24, and dialed his partner's number.
"Fin."
"Are you driving?" Munch asked.
"Yeah, so make this quick. I don't wanna get a ticket for being on my phone."
"Believe me if you get a ticket, it'll be for your driving."
"Good morning to you, too."
"Remember our visit to Eden's Ghetto last night."
"'Course."
"Well, someone remembers the snake."
* * * * *
"I first saw him about a year ago. Not just once or anything." She said sipping her coffee. "But a bunch of times. He was a regular where I used to work."
"Where was that?" asked Fin, pen and paper ready.
"West Houston Street. In Soho."
Her face was a pale white from going to bed at night and going to sleep during the day. In the light from the window of the witness room, her makeup seemed exaggerated, almost like a clown's make up. In the dark, however, it would almost seem non-existent, subtle. Munch guessed that she had gotten to Ninth late last night, heard about what happened, took Fin's card, and proceeded to work, coming to the SVU only after a night on the streets.
"See, I knew this girl, Tina Hopper." she continue, not meeting either of the eyes watching her carefully. "She was a real sweet kid. Younger than me by a year. We always used to go shopping, every week. She was an actress and needed to, you know, keep up on her wardrobe.
"Anyway, we was working that street, and we always used to see him around. Then one day she gets a callback, and the casting director tells her he wants her to die her hair blonde. Real blond, like almost white, you know?"
Munch and Fin shared a look.
"So she does. She comes to work, and it's like staring at the sun, you know?" She laughed lightly, then frowned. "The guy, the reg, he comes up and asks how much. Now, Tina always hated the way he looked. The scraggly-ass hair and greasy. And always wearing this uniform thing. From his work, you know? Yuck. But he offered her a lot of dough. So she took it."
She stopped and took a sip of her coffee, then paused before continuing.
"We had shopping plans the next day and... she never showed. Never called. That's when I knew something bad happened. About four days later, I was watching the news at this trick's house after sex, right? I was gettin ready to split when I saw them dragging a body out of South Cove. Didn't think twice about it. I get to West Houston the next day, and it's all the girls can talk about. That's when one of them tells me it was Tina."
She paused again, opening her purse and digging out another lollypop. "Better than smoking right?"
After a moment she continued. "He never came back. But see he was a regular before, so I knew he did it. All us girls did. Either that or he knew something. So we swore we'd watch out for him.
"Almost a full two years later I'm standing on Ninth, with Belle, Mir and Samoa when this guy comes up. I'm looking at him and trying to see if I know him from somewhere, you know? But he's different looking because he's all clean, and in blue jeans and a white tee. His hair's longer, and not under some hat... I just didn't recognize him soon enough, that's all." Tears started to flow down her painted face, and she wiped them away.
Munch noted that the make up didn't smear even the slightest. He guessed that prostitution was a career path in which it was wise to invest in make-up that did not run. Tears were probably too plentiful and too common of an occurrence to work with cheap make-up.
"I loved Miri so damn much. She was one of the nicest people I'd ever met, always such a sweetheart. And her devotion to Jen, her roommate, was so touching. I've always wanted a best friend like that."
She finally met the eyes of the two detectives. "She always made all of us feel good, like we weren't some evil, dirty things on the side of the street, you know? We were just women doing what we knew how to do, to earn money and make a living for ourselves. She made me wanna move to Nevada, where hookers are more appreciated. You know?"
Munch leaned forward. "Do you think if we got you a sketch artist, you could describe what he looks like now?"
She nodded furiously, her eyes brimming with tears and hatred. "I'll never forget that sick bastard's face. Tina was sad enough, but Miranda was a good natured, sweet human. She never even cussed, and..." She took a deep breath. "I can do it. I can describe him."
* * * * *
Cregan stood talking to Munch and Fin while they sat back in their chairs eating a quick breakfast.
"So we've got an ID on this guy?"
"Yeah." Fin said behind a mouthful of bagel. "Winnie Delman is working with the sketch artist now."
"Well, the lab results from the trash bag came in. Clean of any evidence. Let's hope this Winnie gives us clear picture of this guy."
Fin took the hint. "I'll go check."
He left his partner and his boss discussing the case, and walked towards the witness room. He glanced inside to see the sketch artist finishing his drawing.
Perfect timing, he though and knocked once before entering.
"I don't know," Winnie was saying. "His nose is longer, and his hair's, well it's got color. And, I mean, his eyes are more squinted-"
As she continued to critique the picture, Fin approached the artist. "Let's see."
The man handed him the sketch, and as Fin's eyes met the paper in recognition of the portrait, he almost dropped the pad.
"Son of a bitch!" He hurried out of the room and to his desk, where Munch sat eating his breakfast and writing up paperwork.
"Where'd Cregan go?"
Munch frowned at Fin. "In his office. Why?"
"Because, we just found this sick bastard. Look like anybody we know?" he asked dropping the sketch onto his partner's lap.