It Might Not Be A Pretty Picture

by Cirocco

Briscoe and McCoy get involved when Rey Curtis is charged with his mother's murder.

8. Serena

Chapter 8: Serena

Disclaimer: Not mine, Dick Wolf's.  No permission, no profit, no money, yadda yadda.

Feedback gratefully appreciated at

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Friday, December 19, 2003
5:45pm

The trial had been going well for the last few days.  Skoda had taken the stand and shot down the prosecution psychiatrist's testimony - and their psychiatrist - rather conclusively.  Other forensic witnesses had pointed out how highly unlikely it would have been that Curtis, a former homicide detective, could have done such a poor job of killing Estela Curtis without raising suspicions, no matter what his mental state.  Lisa had testified briefly about her brother's relationship with their mother.  Now the week was over, and Briscoe had been invited for a sort of impromptu holiday meal at Curtis' house.

Briscoe arrived to find dinner preparation going full steam ahead.  "OK, if you're gonna help me make dinner, then let's get down to business," Curtis clapped his hands together to organize the girls, then winked at Isabel and sang, "'Let's get down to business to defeat the Huns...'"

"Huah!" yelled the three older girls at once.  The family shared a laugh.  Briscoe looked at Curtis, puzzled.

"What was that?"

"It's from Mulan.  They used to watch that movie all the time.  It's pretty good, actually," he gave Olivia some potatoes to peel.

"Sing the whole song, Daddy!" Isabel begged.

"Sweetheart, it's been years, I don't remember the words.  Besides, I can't carry a tune to save my life.  Here, you wash the celery."

"'Let's get down to business, to defeat the Huns!  Did they send me daughters, when I asked for sons?'" sang Olivia, peeling away.

"That doesn't sound like great lyrics for this family," commented Briscoe, smiling at the girls.

"It's actually got a really positive role model for young girls," said Deborah, stacking blocks on the floor with Tania.

Olivia continued, "'You're the saddest bunch I've ever met, But you can bet before we're through-'"

"'Mister, I'll make a man out of you!'" the whole family joined in, laughing.

"Hey, can we watch it?  Pleease?" Isabel asked.  "'Member Olivia's friend Stephanie fixed the VCR?  We haven't rented a movie in soo long!" Curtis and Deborah looked at each other, then both nodded.  Isabel squealed in delight.

"That's a baby movie!  I don't wanna watch a baby movie!" Serena protested.

"It is not a baby movie!"

"Well I'm too old for it!"

"Hey, I'm thirty-eight and I kinda like it, so what's that tell you?" Curtis took some carrots out of the fridge.

"Girls mature faster than boys?" Curtis laughed and gave Serena the carrots to chop.

"Ouch!  Good one.  Isabel called it, so she picks it.  You can pick next time.  Olivia, you wanna go pick it up?"

"Sure, Daddy," Olivia abandoned the potatoes and quickly got on her jacket and boots.

===

Dinner went relatively well, although along with the holiday cheer was a feeling of tension.  Everybody knew that the trial was going well, but that it was almost at an end.  It was likely that all witnesses would be done by the 22nd, and closing statements would be made the 23rd.  Which meant one of three possibilities.  The family could have a wonderful Christmas, with the trial finally behind them.  Or the jury would take so long that they'd have to recess over the holidays and they'd spend Christmas in limbo.  Or it would be the first Christmas of many that Curtis would spend in prison.

McCoy had promised that if Curtis was convicted he would handle the appeal, and he was optimistic about it since the judge had already made quite a few questionable calls with regards to the admissibility of evidence brought to the trial.  However, the looming end of the trial still put a bit of a damper on the holiday spirits.

After dinner, Curtis and Lisa started to clear the table while Olivia set up the VCR and Serena helped Deborah clean the baby and her high chair.  Amid the busy swirl of conversation and activity, Serena started to tease Olivia about a boy at school, not terribly kindly.

"You like him.  You like Danny."

"I don't like him, like him.  Not like that," Olivia reassured her mother, who smiled at her indulgently.

"Yeah, well, do you  like like that other guy, Jerry?"

"No!"

"I seen you flirting with him.  Better watch out, you're gonna get a rep as a slut," Serena said snidely.

"Hey hey! Watch your language!" Curtis said warningly, picking up a dinner plate and tapping the back of her chair warningly.

"What, you the only one that can be a slut around here?"

Tense silence fell over the family as Curtis' head whipped up and he glared at Serena, thumping the dishes back down onto the table.  He opened his mouth angrily, then snapped it shut and stepped back, pressing his lips together.  He bowed his head and cleared his throat, then picked up the dishes again and continued to clear the table, blushing darkly and not meeting anybody's eyes.  Glancing at each other, the rest of the family slowly started to move again, picking up their conversations in subdued voices.

Serena, not quite believing Curtis hadn't slapped her for what she had just said, picked up her plate and slowly brought it to the kitchen, looking at him nervously.  He took her plate without a word and started to wash the dishes, motioning to her to go back to the table.  After he had regained his composure, he came up behind Serena and put his hand on her shoulder, leaning down and speaking into her ear.

"You and me are gonna take a little walk."

"I don't want to."

"Father-daughter bonding.  Right now.  No, you don't get a choice," he spoke over his daughter's objection.  He propelled her to the door and they put on their jackets and left.  Deborah and Lisa looked at each other, eyebrows raised.

A little while later, Curtis and Serena came back into the apartment.  Serena went to Deborah's chair and gave her a hug, then quietly sat down to watch the movie with her sisters.  Curtis took off his jacket, shaking the snow off his hair, and came into the kitchen where the other adults had gathered.

"What was that all about?" Deborah asked.

"Told her I wanted her to stop making her little comments.  I may deserve them, but the rest of the family doesn't.  She upsets everybody when she does it.  Anybody want coffee?"  A trio of yeses came back to him.

"And she was OK with that?" Lisa asked skeptically.

"Not right away.  She said if I deserved it, I shouldn't get mad at her if she says stuff like that when it's just the two of us.  I agreed, so she called me every name she could think of," Lisa started to chuckle.  "I took it, added some more names she hadn't thought of plus Spanish translations, got her laughing, then we came home."  Lisa, Deborah and Briscoe laughed.

"Good for you," Briscoe said, reflecting that not too long ago Serena's remark would have sparked a major incident.

"Man, can you imagine one of us saying something like that to our dad?" Lisa shook her head at Curtis.

"Calling him a slut?  He deserved it too," pointed out Curtis, starting up the coffee maker.

"Yeah, but he'd a smacked us so hard..."

"What did your mom think about it?" Briscoe asked, curious.

"She wasn't happy with it," Lisa answered, "but the double standard is alive and well in a lot of Hispanic households, even today.  Lotsa wives, they think that's just what husbands do, like a law of nature or something.  And they're just supposed to put up and shut up."  Lisa looked at Deborah affectionately and said, "I was so proud of you when you tossed Rey's ass the first time he messed up."

"Oh, thank you very much," Curtis interjected, taking out coffee cups.

"I mean, I was happy you guys got back together eventually, but still.  I was glad you didn't marry some doormat."

"No, I didn't," Curtis agreed, smiling at Deborah ruefully.  She smiled back and took his hand in hers.

"Ever wish you had?" she asked.

"Nope," he kissed her hand lightly, eyes twinkling at her.

"That's why I was so pissed when you said it was OK after you got sick," Lisa went on.

"The situation's a little different, Lisa," Deborah said quietly.  Curtis sighed, shaking his head slightly.

"No it's not.  If it's wrong, it's wrong.  Period."

"Sound familiar?" Curtis asked Briscoe sardonically.  Briscoe chuckled.  Apparently a rigid moral code ran in the Curtis family.

"It always drove me crazy when our dad would go tomcatting and our mom would just sigh and say Oh well," Lisa said.

"Yeah, me too," Curtis agreed quietly.

"Maybe that's how your dad was raised," Briscoe suggested.  "If it's a cultural thing..."

"No, our dad was white," Curtis informed him.

"Yeah?  I didn't know that."

"Curtis?  That sound like a Spanish name to you?"

"About as Spanish as Johannes," Lisa remarked.  "Was she mixed too?"

Curtis glanced at his sister, a pained expression on his face.  "I didn't ask for her biography and resume, Lisa," he muttered, looking away from her.  Deborah cleared her throat.

"I see where Serena gets this from.  Lisa, do you mind very much?  Rey and I are trying to move on."

Lisa put up her hands apologetically.  "You're right, you're right.  I'm sorry," she said sincerely. She looked out into the living room, where the girls were watching their movie.  "Speaking of Serena... wow, she's doing a lot better," Lisa observed.  Curtis smiled.

"Yeah, she's mellowed a bit lately."

"Nalo, I'm so proud of you.  I didn't think anybody could get through to that kid."  She paused.  "I sure as hell couldn't.  When I was staying here, I wanted to strangle her about twice a day, and I'm not even her target most of the time."

Deborah smiled ruefully. "She's a challenge."

"I remember the night Mama died, she was such a handful, remember Deborah?  She was picking on the other girls all night, even before Rey left, and finally I couldn't take it any more.  We had this big fight and she stormed out.  I didn't even want her back," she shook her head, remembering.  "When I thought about coming here and taking them while you were at Lennie's place, I kept thinking about that night and I seriously wanted to take Tania and have Serena stay in foster care.  Of course, I knew Serena's foster family would probably kill her.  Man, what a kid.  You were a bit like that too, though, when you were little."

"I wasn't that bad," Curtis said automatically, eyes distant.  "How long was she out that night?"

"Oh I don't know, she wasn't there for dinner and I didn't give a damn.  She came home way past her bedtime and I didn't even say anything, just sent her straight to bed.  She probably went with those friends of hers - that Janey and Marina."

"She's not supposed to go with Marina.  That's part of her probation," he said.

"Nalo, I wasn't gonna tell the police about it."

"You shoulda talked to her at least if you thought she was with Marina," he said absently, then left the kitchen and went into the living room.  Lisa shrugged and started to pour coffee for the adults.  Briscoe followed Curtis into the living room.  Curtis was gazing at Serena as she cuddled Tania on her lap.

"Rey?"

"Don't," Curtis said quietly.  "Just - don't.  It doesn't mean anything."

===

Monday, December 22
9:30am

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do," Curtis' voice was firm, his manner calm and steady as he took the stand in his own defense.  McCoy gave his notes one final glance, getting ready for a long morning of testimony.

"Mr. Curtis, could you state for the record what you did on the night that your mother died?"

"I left my apartment at about 7:30 that night.  I went to a bar, Rosario's, on 59th Street, and met the young woman who testified last week, Rita Johannes.  We went to her place, I left around ten o'clock, walked for a few hours, and came home slightly past 1:30 a.m."

"Ms. Johannes testified that you were heavily intoxicated that night, to the tune of about eight beers and two or three marijuana joints, is that correct?"

"Yes it is."

"And Ms. Johannes also testified that you engaged in sexual activity with her at Rosario's, as well as at her apartment."

"Yes I did."

"Anything you'd like to say about that?"

Curtis pressed his lips together slightly, and looked directly at McCoy.  "I don't have any excuse for my actions that night.  I'm not proud of what I did.  But it has nothing to do with my mother's death."

"Now, during this whole trial we've all been treated to various tales of your behaviour, not just that night but over the last few years.  It's not a pretty picture.  We've heard of your exhaustion and irritability, your poor performance at work, your various indiscretions, your drug use... and we've been told that all of this shows that you are a person who could easily commit a crime like murder, since you were already doing so many other things that you would never have done a few years ago.  What do you have to say about this?"

"As I said, I don't have any excuse for my actions.  I haven't lived up to my own idea of what is acceptable behaviour in the last few years.  I've shown extremely poor judgment in many areas of my life.  It doesn't mean I'm capable of murder."

McCoy paused for a moment, allowing that line of questioning to conclude in the jury's mind before going on to the next.  "How have you felt in the last few years?" he asked gently.

Curtis looked down briefly, gathering himself for the next section of questions.  He cleared his throat.  "I've been depressed for a long time.  I didn't think of it that way, I thought I was just tired and upset because of what was going on in my family, and because of how poorly I was handling the situation."

"When did you come to the conclusion that you had been depressed?"

"After my arrest, the court psychiatrist who interviewed me, Dr. Skoda, diagnosed me with clinical depression.  I hadn't honestly given it much thought before that.  He prescribed anti-depressants and suggested counseling and support, none of which I felt was relevant to me at the time."  He cleared his throat again.  "But I started to notice a difference in my mood and ability to cope as the anti-depressants took effect, as the support systems went into place.  Somewhere in the last couple of months I realized that Dr. Skoda was probably correct in his diagnosis."

"What do you think of Mr. Silcox's assertion that Father Morelli's negligence as a spiritual advisor led to your depression, led you to feel trapped and despairing, led you to feel that you had no choice but to murder your mother when she got sick?"

Curtis spared a brief glance at where Morelli was sitting in the courtroom.  "I can't agree with that.  Father Morelli is my spiritual advisor, not my keeper.  He's not responsible for my actions.  He didn't make me feel guilty, or set me up to fail, or push me into depression.  All of that was just... life," he shrugged.  "And he definitely did not lead me to believe I had no choice but to end my mother's life."

"What were you going to do with your mother as she became more impaired?"

"To be honest, at the time of her death I hadn't let myself think about it yet.  I was too bogged down with trying to deal with my life right then to worry about what would happen later."

"Surely you must have thought about it sometimes."

Curtis shook his head.  "I didn't.  I didn't let myself.  When I did, I prayed to God that something would make things OK - that He would find some way to make it possible for me to take care of everybody.  I couldn't find a way out; I just hoped that God could."

"That seems hard to believe, that you weren't thinking about it."

"It seems hard for me to believe it now too, now that I'm feeling better and feeling more able to cope," Curtis admitted.  "It's... it's hard to relate to how depressed I was a few months ago.  But what I remember is feeling so exhausted and so overwhelmed with the present that it wasn't that difficult to not think of the future."

"Did you ever think about ending your mother's life?"

"No."

"Did you know about the changes to your mother's will and insurance policy?"

"No."

"If you had known, would that have made you think of ending her life?"

"No."

"Would you have considered ending your mother's life as an act of mercy?  After all, she was suffering from Alzheimer's."

"My mother was in the early stages of Alzheimer's.  She was still competent.  She was able to live on her own, go to work, pay her bills... she just forgot appointments sometimes, went out and forgot why she was out, sometimes had trouble remembering what she was doing.  It wasn't serious yet."

"What about once her Alzheimer's got serious?  Would you have considered euthanasia then?"

"I'm Catholic.  I believe it's not up to us to decide when a person will die.  Only God can decide that.  I don't believe in euthanasia."  He paused and looked down.  "I don't honestly know, though.  Whatever your beliefs, it can be very difficult to see somebody you love suffering.  I don't know how I would have felt as her illness progressed.  I can definitely say she was nowhere near a stage where her death could be called euthanasia."

As McCoy took them through Curtis' testimony, part of his mind was, as always, noticing how different people were on the stand and off.  It never ceased to amuse McCoy to see how cops, so streetwise and tough-talking out of the courtroom, transformed themselves into eloquent professionals on the stand.  With the occasional exception of Lennie Briscoe, none of the cops he worked with sounded anything like their regular selves on the stand.  McCoy always wondered how much of that was rehearsal and taking on a court persona, and how much of it was dropping the tough cop act.

He reflected that the man before him was remarkably similar to the man he'd had on the stand numerous times when they worked together.  Curtis had always been an excellent witness as a cop, and he was no less so as a defendant.  Gone were the hesitation, the nervous mannerisms and even the informal speech ('ghetto-mouth', his sister had called it) that McCoy had gotten used to in the last few weeks.  Curtis was convincing the jury even as he watched.  He just hoped that Curtis would continue to do as well on cross.

===

Monday, December 22
7:45pm

Briscoe took off his coat, finally getting home after a long day, feeling tired, but good.  One of his cases was close to wrapping up.  He'd talked to McCoy earlier in the afternoon and found him sounding extremely pleased with Curtis' testimony that day.  It seemed Curtis had done very well, both on direct and on cross.  Part of that was due to the fact that it seemed Silcox's one stroke of inspiration during this trial had been Father Morelli's testimony.  According to McCoy, his cross of the defense witnesses, including Curtis, had been workmanlike and thorough, but plodding.  Lucky for them.

As soon as Briscoe had settled onto his couch and turned on the TV, the phone rang.  Briscoe groaned and answered it, hearing Curtis' voice say urgently, "Lennie, I need to talk to you.  Can you call Jack and get over here?"

"Sure, what's going on?"

"Just call Jack.  It's important."

They arrived at Curtis's apartment half an hour later.  Curtis took one look at them and grabbed a laundry basket that he'd left next to the front door, calling over his shoulder at his family, "Laundry time, be back later," and led them down the stairs quickly.  Once they reached the laundry room, he shut the door and turned on them.

"You bastards!  You tipped them off!  I told you, I told you both, that I did not want you to investigate Serena!!"

"What?!" "What happened?" McCoy and Briscoe spoke simultaneously.

"I got a call from Janey Suarez' mother an hour ago.  She says the police are talking to Janey about Serena.  They've been there twice, and they've talked to Dolores Fitzhugh.  Who'd you tell?" he looked from one to the other accusingly.

Briscoe shook his head quickly.  "I - I didn't tell anybody... maybe one of the people my assistant talked to called the police..." McCoy said, mind racing.

"Fuck!  It doesn't matter now.  They're investigating her.  God damn it!"  He slammed his hand on the laundry room table, then leaned against it, rubbing his forehead agitatedly.

Briscoe approached him.  "OK, OK, relax, Rey.  We'll figure something out," he put his hand on Curtis' shoulder.

Curtis shrugged it off.  "Don't tell me to relax!  My daughter is being investigated for murder!  What the hell am I supposed to do?!" He pushed off the table.  "Fuck!!" he paced for a moment.  "Christ, Lennie, a few weeks ago I was so messed up you had to remind me when to eat!  You had to stay with me through the night just so I wouldn't kill myself!  And now I'm supposed to make life or death decisions for my whole family?  Jesus Christ!  I can't handle this!" his voice was panicked, hands shaking and breath shallow.

"Rey!  Stop it!" McCoy said firmly.  "You're not where you were a few weeks ago.  You can handle this, and you don't have to do it alone.  We're right here," he pushed Curtis into the only chair in the room.  "Sit.  Take a deep breath."  Curtis looked at him, eyes filled with fear.

Briscoe put a hand on his shoulder again.  "Breathe.  You can do this."  Curtis closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down, putting his head in his hands for a moment.  Briscoe and McCoy waited until his labored breathing evened out a bit and he sat up.  He looked up at them helplessly.

"Shit.  I have no idea what to do.  What I wouldn't give for a joint right now," he shook his head immediately, saying impatiently as Briscoe's eyebrows went up, "No, I don't have any, Lennie, I told you I wasn't gonna do it any more.  I just - I wish I had some way to steady my nerves, that's all."

"OK, OK, what did Janey's mother say?"  Briscoe asked, leaning on the laundry table.

"Colton's been to see her twice in the last couple of days.  Dolores' mother told her he'd been to see her yesterday too. She said 'they're talking to a lot of people,' but wouldn't tell me anybody other than herself and Dolores' family."

"What did he ask about?"

"My mother's will.  Serena's relationship with her," he paused, thoughts racing.  "Which means they know what she said at Soledad's party.  And probably what she said after my mother died.  And if they figure out that she was out of the apartment for hours the night my mother died, that's it.  Means, motive and opportunity.  God damn it!"  He stood up, clenching his fists, thinking rapidly.  "Jack, do you think that deal is still available?"

"What?  Now?" McCoy shook his head, not understanding.  "Rey, the trial is going well!  Your testimony was good, the jury believed you.  I don't think you need that deal."

"You think I'm gonna get off, don't you?  And Silcox thinks so too."

"Yes."

He nodded, "And when I do, they'll arrest Serena.  That's why Silcox was just going through the motions during cross, because he's throwing the case.  They don't think I did it any more, they think Serena did it."

"That doesn't mean they're gonna charge her," Briscoe pointed out quickly.

"Or that she'll be convicted if she is charged," McCoy added.

"She's got a criminal record, I don't.  And she's got a history of violence, and she knew about my mother's will, and there's witnesses that'll testify that she didn't like my mother, that she pushed her, broke her stuff, said she was happy my mother died... and the murder was sloppy, like a child might commit, not a former homicide detective," he paused.  "I want you to call Silcox.  Tell him I'll take the deal."

McCoy and Briscoe looked at each other, stunned.  Events were moving too quickly.  Curtis had obviously been thinking about this since the call from Mrs. Suarez, but they hadn't had a chance to process it yet, hadn't had time to think out all the implications of what was happening.

"Rey, what if she is guilty?  What if she looks guilty because she is?" Briscoe asked urgently.

"She's not!"

"What if she is?" Briscoe pressed.

"I don't care!  She's my daughter.  I have to protect her."

"Does that mean going to jail for her?"  McCoy challenged.

"Yes!"

"Even if she's guilty?"

"Yes!"

"You don't mean that," Briscoe protested.

"When your daughter was facing charges, you said if you could take the fall for her you would, remember?"

"She was stealing drugs!  She didn't kill anybody!"

"Neither did Serena!"

"And if she's guilty?" McCoy insisted.  "If she killed your mother? What's to stop her from killing somebody else?  Somebody else who's inconvenient to her?  Like Tania?"

"She didn't do it.  And if she's tried, she will be convicted.  I can't let that happen."

"So she'll go to Spofford.  It's not the end of the world.  Kids survive Spofford," Briscoe said harshly.

"She won't," Curtis shook his head and faced them directly.  "When she was arrested for drug dealing, I made her turn State.  She testified against the drug dealer and the kids who helped him recruit the elementary school kids.  Her testimony helped put them away," he looked down, twisting his wedding ring.  "One of them, Tammy Morisen, got three years at Spofford and she swore she'd kill Serena.  She's already almost beaten another kid there to death.  Serena goes there, and she's done."

There was silence for a minute as McCoy and Briscoe digested this.

"So you're gonna take the fall for her?" Briscoe finally asked, not quite believing this, but realizing that Curtis was deadly serious.  He flailed around for something, anything, to talk him out of it.  "Rey, if you're in prison... who takes care of your family?  They'll go into foster care.  You know what that means.  That's no way to grow up."

"I don't see any other way!" Curtis told him, voice anguished.  Briscoe held his gaze, realizing that he didn't either.

"You'll have to allocute.  You'll have to lie under oath," McCoy protested desperately.  Curtis nodded grimly.  "You told me once that you can't just forget about your faith whenever you want.  What do you call this?"

Curtis regarded him steadily for a moment.  Then he sighed and crossed his arms, leaning against a washing machine.  "My faith..." he blew out his breath and looked away bitterly.  "I have lost my faith so many times in the last few years.  I've never doubted the existence of God, but I've sure as hell doubted he's a kind and loving God.  But..." he shook his head, trying to put his thoughts into words.

"You know what my children are to me?  They're - they're the greatest gift God ever gave me.  My greatest article of faith, the greatest testament of God's existence that I have, are my kids.  And my responsibility to them... that's the greatest responsibility I have," he paused.  "I'm not saying perjury isn't a sin.  But... for me the Eleventh Commandment is Honour Thy Children.  And I've already failed them enough.  I've already failed Serena enough," he swallowed.  He closed his eyes briefly, opened them and looked straight at McCoy.  "In foster care, she has a chance.  In juvie, her life is over.  I can't let that happen," he said simply.

McCoy held his gaze for a moment.  Then he shook his head.  "I won't let you do this.  It would be suborning perjury."

"You didn't have a problem with it when you wanted me to plead out the first time."

"The first time, you weren't going to do it to cover up for somebody else's crime.  I believe Serena committed this murder.  I won't let you take the fall for her."

Curtis's eyes hardened.  "I don't believe she did.  I know my daughter."

"I don't think you can be objective.  I think she's guilty and you just don't want to see it," McCoy shot back.

"The other day you were just as sure that my mother committed suicide and Father Morelli knew about it," Curtis pointed out.

"I'm not sure of that any more.  This explanation makes more sense, knowing what I know of the case.  And I can't let you lie on the stand to cover for a killer."

Curtis looked away for a moment, then back at McCoy.  He crossed his arms and took a deep breath.  "I knew about my mother's will, that's probably where Serena heard it from.  And I know what she had for dinner that night.  She had fish and vegetable stew.  Feel better about letting me plead?"

McCoy's eyes widened in disbelief.  "You're saying you did it?"

"Good for you, Counselor."

"I don't believe you.  You've maintained your innocence all along-"

"This surprises you?  A murderer lying - what are the odds?"

"I don't believe you either," Briscoe declared.

"I don't care what you believe," Curtis said bluntly.  "He's the one who's gotta let me plead."

"It doesn't matter what we believe anyway.  You can't decide this without Deborah," Briscoe said, desperately playing for time.

Curtis looked at Briscoe, despair in his eyes.  "Oh god," he swallowed hard.  "What the hell am I gonna say to her?  This'll kill her."

===

"Olivia, take your sisters outside.  Don't - don't come back in until we come get you, OK?" Curtis said a few minutes later, back at the apartment.  The girls dressed and left quickly, sensing something serious was going on from the grim expressions on the faces of their father, Briscoe and McCoy.  Deborah looked from one to the other, growing alarm in her eyes, as they sat themselves at the kitchen table.  Curtis took her hand in both of his and began without preamble.

"The police are investigating Serena in connection to my mother's death."

"What?!"

"They know that Serena and my mother didn't get along.  And Serena knew about her will."

"What?  How?"

"I don't know.  But she knew about it at Soli's birthday party, in mid-September.  And Dolores said she was happy my mother died because we'd get the money and I wouldn't have to take care of her."

Deborah was speechless.

"I have to take the deal."

"What?!"

"I have take the deal.  Man One, six years."

Deborah stared at him.  "Just like that?"

"If I'm acquitted, she'll go to Spofford.  She's got a record.  It would be a much stronger case."

Deborah covered her mouth, horrified and overwhelmed.  Then she narrowed her eyes at Curtis.  "Did you know about any of this?"  Curtis looked away from her.  She swallowed.  "You did, didn't you?"  He looked at her, opening his mouth as if to say something, then closing it again.  Her voice hardened and she withdrew her hand from his.  "How much did you know?"

He let out his breath.  "All of it."

"How long?"

"Since before the trial," his words were slow, reluctant.

"And you didn't think to tell me?" her voice was low, a slight tremor in it.  Curtis paled, looking down and crossing his arms.

"Deborah..." his voice was also low.  Briscoe and McCoy glanced at each other, both suddenly feeling a gathering storm in the room.  Deborah looked like she was trying to control rising anger, and Curtis looked like somebody who could see the signs of an imminent explosion.

"You didn't think I should know?"  Same dangerously quiet voice.

"I-"

"Did it occur to you that as her mother I had a right to know?"

"It was just suspicion-"

"How dare you!" Deborah was suddenly furious, voice rising and dark eyes snapping with outrage.  "I'm an invalid, not an idiot!  How DARE you treat me like this?!"

"I was trying to protect you-" Curtis said, enunciating every word clearly, lips thinning.

"You son of a bitch!  I don't need your protection!  In case you forgot, I'm your wife, not your child!  You had NO right to keep this from me!"

"What the hell did you want me to say?!" Curtis was suddenly furious too.  "In case you forgot, you weren't even around before the trial!  You weren't even talking to me!  You'd ditched us!"

"I ditched because you couldn't handle taking care of all of us!  I was doing it for you and for the girls!"

Curtis slammed his hand on the table, causing Briscoe to jump slightly.  "You were doing it because that's your answer to everything - the minute things get tough you get the hell out!"

"And what's your answer - getting drunk and doing drugs and fucking strangers?!"  Curtis flinched as if she had struck him, and stood up quickly, walking away.  "Get back here!"

"I can't talk to you when you're like this," he said, his voice shaking.  He crossed his arms, looking out the window, breathing harsh.  McCoy and Briscoe glanced at each other, not sure what to do.  It seemed Curtis and his wife had forgotten they were even there.

"Now who's ditching?!"

"I am not ditching!" he bit his lip, trying to keep calm.  When he spoke again, his voice was tightly controlled.  "You're scared about Serena and you're reacting by getting angry and taking it out on me.  Well I'm scared too.  And I'm trying to not take it out on you and say something I'm gonna regret!"

"Really?  Self-restraint, from you?  That's rich.  You don't wanna say something you're gonna regret?  Like what?  Come on, like what?" she needled him.  He lost his temper again and whirled around to face her.

"Like pointing out that you're being a bitch!  Maybe I was wrong to keep this from you, but you woulda done the exact same thing if you'd known!  I don't have a monopoly on keeping secrets in this house, Deborah!!"  Deborah opened her mouth for a sharp retort, and he rushed on, "And as for your 'we're trying to move on' crap, that's pretty rich too!  I know you!  You talk forgiveness, but for the rest of our lives you're gonna throw me sleeping around in my face every time we fight!!"

"Every time we fight?  If you're gonna go away for six years, I don't think we'll have much opportunity, do you?  I'll be as good as dead by the time you get out!"

"And this is how we're gonna spend our last night together?  Tearing each other to pieces?"

"Why not?!  We're good at it, we've had lots of practice!"

"Fine!  Call me a son of a bitch, throw every stupid thing I've ever done at me if it makes you happy!  I fucked up, OK?!  Again!!  I should have told you!  I admit it!  It doesn't change the fact that we have to decide what to do about this now!"

"You've already decided!  You're gonna take the deal, you're gonna commit perjury, no matter what I say.  This is just a formality, I don't get a say!"

"If you have a better suggestion, I'd like to hear it!"

"I don't!  I haven't had a chance to think about this!  I would have if you'd bothered to keep me in the loop, but you were too busy lying to me, as usual!!"

"I wasn't lying, I was trying to protect you!!"

"I don't need your protection!  I'm not that fragile!  You're the one on anti-depressants, not me!"

"Only because you're too goddamn stubborn to even admit you have a problem-"

The door opened, and Olivia stood at the doorway.  Curtis and Deborah turned to look at her, and Deborah screamed, "Get out!  We told you to stay out until somebody came to get you!!"

"We can hear you all the way down the stairs," Olivia informed them quietly.  Curtis blew his breath out in frustration.  "I guess the honeymoon's over, huh?" she said bitterly.  Curtis looked at her for a long moment, then closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, taking a deep, shaking breath.  Deborah covered her mouth with a trembling hand.  "Isabel's crying.  She wants to know if you're gonna leave us again," Olivia told Deborah.  "What should I tell her?"

Curtis and Deborah locked gazes, their anger dying rapidly and being replaced by regret just as quickly.  There was a brief silence, broken by Curtis, who cleared his throat.  "Deborah?  Are you going to leave?" he asked quietly.  Deborah looked down into her lap.

"No.  Olivia, go back downstairs please."

Olivia glanced at Briscoe and McCoy, then closed the door.  They listened to her footsteps going down the stairs.  Curtis sat back down heavily, looking down at his hands.

Deborah glanced at Briscoe and McCoy briefly, shamefaced, and said quietly, "That was inexcusable.  I'm sorry."  Curtis nodded, silently adding his own apology to hers.  McCoy and Briscoe nodded quickly, accepting their apologies, both wanting to get past this.

Curtis hesitantly reached for Deborah's hand.  She grasped his, and they gazed at each other for a long moment, contrition and fear on both of their faces.  Curtis shook his head, mouthing, "I'm sorry," and Deborah nodded, closing her eyes.  Curtis took a deep breath.  "Deborah... we have to figure out what to do."  Deborah chewed on her lip nervously.  After a moment, Curtis looked at McCoy and Briscoe.

"I think... I think we need to work this out in private," Deborah nodded.  "I - I know, you're my lawyer, you should be part of any legal decisions we make.  But... I think this has to be between me and Deborah.  We'll give you a call when we've decided."

"Closing arguments are tomorrow.  Whatever you decide, it'll have to be soon," McCoy pointed out.

"Can you get a continuance?"

"I'll start working on it.  I'll call Judge Greico tonight."

===

As Briscoe drove McCoy home, both were silent, thinking over what had happened.  The fight between Curtis and Deborah had been ugly and vicious, giving them a glimpse of how things must have been between them in the last few years.  Both could remember fights like that in their own failed marriages.

Of course, the situation they were in would strain any couple.  They were facing a choice that nobody should ever have to make: whether to break up their family for six years, harming themselves and all four of their children irrevocably, or let one of their children be convicted and possibly killed, for a crime they did not believe she had committed.  It wasn't surprising that they had reacted by lashing out at each other, given that their marriage had been on rocky ground until very recently and was still shaky.

McCoy prepared for a sleepless night, waiting for Curtis' decision.  He knew that if he were in Curtis' position, he would probably want to take the deal too.  But wanting to do it and actually doing it were two different things.  A parent's natural reaction to shield their child from harm sometimes had to yield to other considerations.  Such as the law.  He wondered whether Curtis and his wife would even consider that, consider the fact that their daughter could have committed murder and that if she had, she had to answer for her crime.

===

Tuesday, December 23
10:02am

McCoy strode into the 27th Precinct, having received a call from Curtis that Serena had been arrested.  He'd left Judge Greico behind to instruct the jury that the trial would be adjourned until after the holidays.

"Counselor, this is a change," Lieutenant Van Buren greeted him.  "You coming in as a defense lawyer.  Never thought I'd see the day."

"You knew I took on Rey's case, didn't you?"

"Yes, it's just strange to see you coming into the precinct and not being on our side."

"Where's Lennie?"

"He's in one of the interview rooms with Rey's sister and his other daughters," she said.  "McCoy..." McCoy paused on his way to the interrogation room.  Van Buren cleared her throat.  "Do what you can to help Rey," she said finally.  McCoy nodded.

He entered the observation room and quickly went past Colton and Green into the interrogation room.  Curtis, his wife and Serena were in the room, Serena looking very small and scared, all three of them sitting very close together.

"What's happened?"

"We haven't talked to them.  I refused to let her say anything until you got here," Curtis told him.

"OK.  You haven't said anything?  None of you?"  They all shook their heads.  "Good.  Don't.  I'm going to find out what they have on you," he said to Serena.  She nodded, eyes wide.  McCoy walked back into the observation room.

"You her lawyer too, McCoy?" asked Colton.

"I am now.  What have you got?"

"Lots and lots and lots, Counselor," Colton opened up his notes.  "She's got a criminal record for drug dealing.  History of violence, suspended three times for fighting in school.  Three neighbours and a teacher say she hated her grandmother.  Teacher heard her say she wished her grandmother was dead.  Neighbour says she deliberately broke her grandmother's clock and a few collectible plates.  Pushed her grandmother once, almost down the stairs, says another neighbour.  Knew about her grandmother's will before her death - two witnesses say that.  Said she was happy the old lady was gone so her family would get the money.  Neighbour spotted her out of her apartment late at night, the night her grandmother died.  That enough for you, McCoy?"

McCoy turned and went back into the interrogation room.  Curtis took one look at him and read from his face that the situation was bad.  He and Deborah nodded at each other grimly.  He cleared his throat.

"We decided, Jack.  I'm taking the deal."

McCoy looked at Serena.  "Did you even ask her whether she did it?"

"Yes," Deborah said quietly, reaching out and hugging Serena close.  Curtis swallowed hard.

"She didn't do it, Jack," he said, his voice rough.

McCoy closed his eyes, appalled, knowing how heart-wrenching it must have been for Curtis and his wife to even admit to enough doubt to ask Serena the question.  Knowing that there wasn't anything he could do now to change Curtis' mind.  He went out and broke the news to Van Buren.

===

Half an hour later, Briscoe brought the rest of the family in to join them in the interrogation room.  Lisa glared at Curtis, confused and angry.

"It's perjury, Nalo!  You can't do this!"

"Lisa-" Deborah began.

"And you're just letting him do it!  You're just-" Lisa broke off, too furious to speak.

"Lisa, please.  I don't have much time before they take me in.  You're not gonna change my mind so just let me say goodbye to my kids in peace, OK?" Curtis' voice was firm.  Lisa shook her head in disbelief, then sat down with Tania in her lap and held her tongue.

"What's perjury?" asked Isabel.

Curtis sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.  "When you testify in court, you have to put your hand on the Bible and swear that you'll tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God.  And if you don't tell the truth, that's perjury.  It's a crime.  You can go to jail for it."

"And it's a sin.  You can't swear to God, with your hand on the Bible, and then lie," Isabel said.

Curtis nodded slowly.

"Is that what you're gonna do?" she asked him seriously.

"Pretty much, yeah."

"You're gonna lie in court, after swearing that you're gonna tell the truth?" she looked at him in disbelief.

"I don't have a choice."

"Why?" Olivia asked.

"Because they think Serena did it.  They arrested her because they think she killed Nona.  I can't let Serena go to jail for that."

"So... you're gonna say you did it?  Is that what you told Jack?  And they're gonna send you to jail instead of me?" Serena asked with mounting horror.  He nodded.  She stood up, flushing darkly and staring at him, trying to understand.  "How come you're doing this?  You don't even like me!  We're always fighting, I'm always mouthing off at you!  And you're gonna go to jail for me?"

Curtis smiled at her sadly.  "You're my daughter. When you have kids, you'll understand," he said simply.

"You're gonna go to jail!  You're gonna not be here for years!  What kinda father does that!  Who's gonna take care of us?" she wailed.  Curtis winced and tried to put his hand on her shoulder.  She shook him off.  "And you're... you're gonna commit a sin!  You're gonna lie after putting your hand on the Bible, and you're gonna go to Hell!"

"We're all sinners, Serena.  Some of us more than others," he reminded her.  He regarded her for a long moment.  "You're always pointing out my sins, and I know I've committed a lot of them.  But... I'm doing this to protect you," he bit his lip and paused, then continued.  "I don't know if God can forgive me for what I'm about to do.  I don't know if I can forgive myself.  But I know I couldn't forgive myself if I failed to protect you.  I've failed you enough already."

Serena looked at him, desperation growing in her eyes.  "But - but, you got arrested but you said that didn't mean you were gonna go to jail.  Jack said the trial would prove you didn't do it.  Why can't I just have a trial, like you?"

"Because the case against you is stronger, sweetie," he told her reluctantly.  "You have a record.  There's witnesses that'll say that you and Nona fought a lot, you didn't get along with her, and you knew about her will.  You'd be convicted."

"But I didn't do it!"

Deborah shook her head.  "Sweetheart, nobody will believe you except us," she said gently.  Serena clenched her hands together.

"What's gonna happen to you in prison?" asked Olivia quietly.

"Hopefully, not a lot, except I'll miss all of you.  Six years is a long time, but it's not forever.  I'll still be able to go to your high school graduations."

"But what's gonna happen to you?  People get hurt in prison."

Curtis hesitated, clearly torn.  Finally he grimaced and began to speak in quiet, even tones.  "I'll probably do my time in solitary confinement for my own protection.  I'm - I was a cop.  That won't make me very popular with the other inmates.  So if I'm released into the general population, the other inmates will probably try to make things tough for me."

"What do you mean, tough?  Cause Herbie's dad was in jail and he said people get killed all the time and-" Serena was becoming frantic.  Curtis put a steadying hand on her shoulder.

"I might get beaten up.  Not killed.  You don't have to worry about it, I'll be in protective custody."

"Promise?" asked Isabel.

"I promise I'll do my best to go into protective custody."

"You can't promise, can you?" Olivia said grimly.  "It's not just up to you.  Don't lie to us.  You always lie to protect us but we always figure it out.  Just tell us the truth."

"What about all the other stuff Herbie's dad said, 'cause he made a lot of jokes about... he said there was a cop in there that was everybody's girlfriend and-" Serena blurted.

Curtis interrupted her.  "First off, don't spend any more time with Herbie."  He looked at Deborah and spread his hands helplessly.  "I can't - I can't do this.  I can't explain this to my own daughters..."

Deborah put her hand on his arm and took over, voice matter-of-fact. "You know what rape, is, right?  It's when you're forced to have sex against your will.  People joke about it happening in prison all the time and I'm sure your friends will make lots of comments when they find out Daddy's in prison.  That's another reason he'll be in protective custody, so it won't happen to him."

"Can't you defend yourself?" Olivia asked him.

"Against one person, yeah, probably.  Against a gang, or even one person with a knife, no, probably not." He looked at them, trying to reassure them.  "Don't worry about me.  The most danger I'll probably be in is going nuts from being alone in a cell all the time."

"Aren't you scared, Daddy?"  Olivia asked, her voice small.

Curtis regarded her seriously for a long time.  Finally he said, "I'd love to tell you I'm not, I'd love to tell you I'm sure nothing bad is gonna happen.  But the truth is, I am scared.  I hope I can get through it OK."

"Why are you doing this?" Serena asked again.

"You're my daughter.  If you go to juvie... it's not much better than prison, and you'd be a target too because you testified against those other kids."  He touched her arm gently.  "Serena, I'm a grown man.  I'll survive anything that happens to me and heal.  You won't.  I can't allow that.  And it doesn't matter to me that it's perjury and that I swore to uphold the law.  Your life is a lot more important than any oath I ever took - or any oath I ever will take."

Serena stared at him for a moment, then her face crumpled and she started to cry.  "Daddy, don't..." she said brokenly.  "Don't, don't go away," she sobbed, eyes pleading.  Lisa stifled a sob, hugging Tania closer.  "I'll be better, I won't get in trouble any more, please don't..." Curtis drew her close and she flung her arms around him, burying her face in his chest.  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I was so bad, please don't go away Daddy..."

Curtis closed his eyes, stroking her hair and fighting for calm.  Briscoe left the room, leaving the family to say their goodbyes in privacy.

===

Twenty minutes later, Colton and Green came into the interrogation room to take Curtis into custody.  Curtis gave his family one final embrace and stood up, facing Colton.

"So he's doing this for you, kid," Colton sneered at Serena. "How's it feel, getting your dad put in jail?  Nice Christmas present for him, huh?"

"Shut up, Colton," Curtis said wearily.

"Hey!  Watch your mouth, hump.  You're not a cop any more, you're a prisoner.  You don't get to tell me to shut up."

"Damn it, Colton-" Colton took a menacing step towards him and Curtis stood his ground, regarding him seriously.  Something in his expression made Colton stop in his tracks and listen.  "You've been on my case from the beginning and I can respect that. You're a cop and I'm a suspect and you do what you have to, to get a confession.  But you've got a confession now.  You won.  Now you're just being vindictive.  Leave my family alone."  Colton looked at him, nonplussed.

Green shouldered past Colton, giving him a quick quelling glance, and placed his hand on Curtis' shoulder.  "Let's go, Rey," he said quietly, taking him to the holding cell.

===

Tuesday, December 23
10:47pm

"Jack?"  Briscoe stood up from where he'd been leaning against McCoy's motorcycle, waiting for him to appear.

"How is everybody?"  McCoy asked tiredly, stashing his briefcase in the motorcycle's side compartment and starting to put on his winter riding gear.

"I took them back to Rey's house.  Serena's upset, the rest of them... I don't think it's sunk in yet."

"Is Lisa still here?"

"Yeah, she's taking care of everybody for now.  She, uh, she said she's thinking of moving here, leaving her husband and moving into Rey's apartment.  She might take care of the girls and Deborah while he's doing time.  I don't know how likely that is though.  How's Rey?"

"Seems OK.  He's back in lock-up.  They processed him and the allocution hearing is scheduled for tomorrow," McCoy shook his head wearily.  "Merry Christmas."

Briscoe gazed down at the ground, unable to believe that they'd come so close to getting Curtis acquitted only to fail now.  He had to remind himself that it was hardly a sure thing that they would have gotten Curtis off.  It was conceivable that if the trial had been allowed to finish, the jury could have found Curtis guilty of second-degree murder and sentenced him to fifteen years instead of six.  But it had looked like it was going so well...

"Lennie.  I checked with the ME."

"Yeah?"

"She did have fish and vegetable stew that night."

"So?"

"So how did Rey know that?  He said he hadn't been to see her before dinner that night.  He never saw the ME's report.  How did he know what she ate?"

"Come on, you didn't seriously fall for that?"  McCoy met his eyes expressionlessly.  "You wanna buy a mint-condition bridge from me next?  He just said that so you'd let him allocute."

"Are you sure?"

Briscoe thought back to the first few weeks that Curtis had been at his home, and thought about how he'd doubted Curtis's innocence too.  He closed his eyes for a second, and realized that at some point in the last few weeks, his doubts had disappeared.

"Yeah, I'm sure.  I had a few doubts, but I'm absolutely sure now.  He didn't do it."

"Then how did he know?"

Briscoe thought for a moment.  "Off the top of my head I can think of three different ways.  Maybe he checked on her at dinnertime the day before and she had enough for leftovers for the next day.  Maybe he cooked for everyone at his house and brought down leftovers for her.  Maybe Lisa made her dinner that night and mentioned what she made."

McCoy considered his words, staring off into space.  "He didn't do it, Jack," Briscoe repeated.  McCoy finally nodded and put on his helmet, climbing onto his bike and starting on the long road home.

===

Thursday, December 24
9:30am

"Swear in the defendant."

"Place your hand on the Bible, please."  Curtis did so.  "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do," Curtis' voice was firm.

"Mr. Curtis, you are pleading guilty to the charge of Manslaughter in the First Degree in the death of Estela Curtis.  Did you in fact commit the crime?" asked Judge Greico.

"Yes I did."

"For the record, please tell the court how you committed the crime."

"On the night of September 27th, I left my house at 7:30 and went to a bar on 59th Street.  I met Rita Johannes at the bar and went to her apartment.  I left Ms. Johannes' home at quarter to ten and went to my mother's apartment.  I had previously taken some of my wife's medication, Methotrexate, and ground up several of the pills.  I put them in a vegetable stew for my mother, brought it to her and gave her wine, which I knew reacted lethally with the medication."

"Then what did you do?"

"My mother fell asleep shortly after dinner.  I left her apartment and went for a walk outside.  I did not expect anybody would check on my mother until morning. I thought she would die in her sleep and it would be assumed that she took the pills by accident, since she had Alzheimer's."

"You have a plea bargain in place?"

Silcox spoke up.  "Yes, Your Honour, the People have agreed to a sentence of six years, owing to Mr. Curtis' state of mind at the time of his mother's death and the pressures that he was under.  The People have also agreed to request protective custody for Mr. Curtis during his incarceration, considering the fact that he was in law enforcement."

"Very well.  The defendant is hereby sentenced to six years at a correctional facility to be determined by the State.  Bailiff, please take Mr. Curtis into custody.  We are adjourned."

Curtis and Deborah gazed at each other one last time before he was cuffed and led out of the courtroom.