Rosalind
This story and all themes and ideas contained in said story are the sole
ownership of J.L. Scott. Any copyright infringements can be prosecuted in a
court of law.
To borrow a phrase: NYPD Blue no mine......no money, no sue, please? AN: I will warn you now that there is very little story to this. It's basically just an idea I thought I'd spin during the off season. Each chapter is really just more like an impression of a dream than of a real story. Another apology, a name this time. I Couldn't catch it, and couldn't find it, so Dr. Devlin's first name is now Allison. If anyone can correct me, please feel free. I'll keep you updated as we move along. Hope you enjoy!
"I'm hungry" Irvin looked down at the Lieutenant's daughter. She had been playing quietly with her little rag doll all day in her father's office. He wondered if she really knew what was going on. If she knew who her father was, or why she was here, or maybe if she thought Detective Clark was her father perhaps. He felt sorry for her, getting bounced around like this. He glanced at his watch. It was almost six. He figured she probably hadn't eaten since much earlier, maybe not since breakfast.
"Um, I have some crackers here, do you like those?" he asked pulling a secret box of Ritz crackers out of one of his drawers. She nodded silently, took the offered box and went back to the office. Detective Clark came back in from the restroom.
"Detective? Rosalind's hungry. I sent her back with a box of crackers, but she'll probably need some dinner soon" Irvin told him.
"I've gotta stay here until we're done with this Kennedy thing" Clark replied.
"We just got something!" Andy announced, "Connely just called, said Flarhety just pulled up in front of the apartment building"
"Watch her!" John ordered Irvin and followed Andy out the door. Jones and Metaboy followed too. They were quiet as John knocked a couple times on the door.
"Who the hell is that?" they heard a rough Irish accented voice ask.
"I don't...I don't know Patrick" they heard Connely answer just before he opened the door. The four detectives rushed past him and grabbed Flarhety. He looked a lot like his cousin. He was tall, unlike Connely, but super skinny, black hair, pale as milk.
"Patrick Flarhety, you're coming with us" Andy told him.
"What for? Hey, you can't do this!" the man yelled at them as Jones took him out to the car. Connely was pressed up against the wall looking frightened.
"Hey, you gonna be okay?" John asked him. He looked around and then at John.
"Yes..yes sir, I'll be fine. Is Patrick coming back?"
"I don't think so" John told him. He cocked his head to the side.
"Oh. Okay." he said and then turned and went to the kitchen. John and Andy exchanged a bewildered look but left him.
Back at the station, Andy threw the man into a chair and slammed the door shut behind him.
"So, Patrick, where were you this morning?" he started.
"I was at work" Flarhety answered sullenly.
"Oh, yeah? What time?" Andy continued.
"Seven to 5:30"
"Seven, huh? Well, that's funny, cause we have witnesses that put you at Park's Diner about 7:30 for almost an hour" John told him, taking a seat on the other side of the table.
"Which is funny," Andy added, "Cause that's about what time Mehgan Kennedy died, right there at Park's"
"I don't know any Mehgan Kennedy" Flarhety said.
"You don't?! See, we thought you'd know her cause there's been a feud between your two familys for years, something about your brother killing her dad and her brother killing your brother and so on" John decided to just put it all out. Flarhety looked up with an evil look in his eye.
"Her whole family can die for all I care" he said darkly, "Damn Catholics!"
"Is that why you killed her? Cause she's Catholic?" Andy asked.
"I didn't kill her" Flarhety denied, not looking at them anymore.
"You know how she died, Patrick? Onion. Someone put onion powder all over her food. Did you know her entire family was deathly allergic to onion, Patrick?" John waited for him to respond, but he didn't. He just kinda looked at them. Then all of the sudden he jumped up from his chair and rushed for the door. Andy caught him and John had to help restrain him enough to get him away again, banging into furniture and knocking over some chairs in the mean time. A glass bottle with a screw on top fell out of his pocket and clattered onto the floor. Andy got his hands behind his back and into cuffs while John picked the bottle up. It was small, the kind kitchen herbs came in. It was empty, but he unscrewed the top and took a whiff, while Andy stuffed Flarhety back into a chair.
"Onion" John told the other man, handing him the bottle.
"Now how did that get into your pocket? Why in the world would you be carryin around an empty bottle of onion powder?" Andy asked sarcastically, because they all knew the answer already.
"Damn Catholics! If they'd just bloody leave us alone none of this would be happenin'! Me brothers would be home now, and the wench would have her bloody family! Instead I'm in bloody America, over run and surrounded by the damn Catholics!" He looked like he might try to get up again but he just sat there.
"So you did kill Mehgan Kennedy, to avenge one of your brother's deaths" Andy said, but Flarhety didn't answer. Instead he got a strange look on his face and tried to look under the table.
"What the hell is that?" he asked. Then John heard something move under the table. He pulled a chair out and looked.
"Rosalind? What are you doing in here?" he asked, suddenly feeling embarressed, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't be doing. He just hoped the poor little thing wouldn't be scared to death of him like she was of everybody else now. Damn. He reached for her and she crawled out quickly and clung to his shirt when he lifted her up.
"You're not supposed to be in here, c'mon" He started for the door, but she started screaming and trying to get out of his arms now. He couldn't keep ahold of her and was forced to set her down. She promptly scuttled into a corner and huttled there, clutching the little rag doll she never seemed to be without.
"What's wrong, Rosalind? C'mon you can't stay in here" He reached for her again, but she just pushed herself farther into the corner, big fat tears pouring down her face.
"No! No!" she cried, the loudest she'd done anything all day, "He'll kill me! He'll kill me! He kills Catholics!" She was terrified. John looked back at the man sitting with his hands cuffed behind his back, right on the way to the door.
"Are you Catholic Rosalind?" he asked gently. That was something Mrs. Collins could've told him, if she was practicing a religion. He didn't go to church himself, but if her mother (or more importantly, her father) had wanted her raised Catholic he would do his best to comply. Right now, though, he just needed to get her out of this room, preferably without frightening her out of her wits. She nodded yes to his question, eyes still huge and pumping out the tears.
"All right, look, I won't let him get you, okay? I'll protect you" She looked unwilling still, but he reached down and picked her up. She didn't scream or struggle, just hugged his throat until he thought he'd never breathe again. He started towards the door, and she started whimpering. Flarhety looked up at her. He looked.....almost repentent.
"I won't hurt ye, lass" he said quietly when they were right beside him. John looked at Andy, suddenly suspecting they might just get a confession out of him yet. He opened the door. Connie was on the phone, Jones and Metaboy were nowhere to be seen. That left him with one choice.
"Rita!" he called. She got up and came over.
"Here, take her will you? She's pretty shook up" He told her, handing Rosalind to her.
"What was she doing in there?" Rita asked.
"Just watch her for a sec okay?" John sighed and shut the door.
"You see faces like that all the time in Ireland" Flarhety was saying, "Little babes cryin', scared out of their minds, just cause they go to the wrong church. I seen it on dozens of Protestant faces" he was speaking quietly, not really looking at anything. He sighed heavily.
"But not till now did I ever see it on a Catholic's face. She were terrified of me"
"You killed Mehgan Kennedy didn't you?" John asked quietly.
"Aye. Aye I killed the lass. She weren't ever involved in the war, just her brothers. She were innocent, she were" He let his head drop, almost to the table, "What've I done?"
To borrow a phrase: NYPD Blue no mine......no money, no sue, please? AN: I will warn you now that there is very little story to this. It's basically just an idea I thought I'd spin during the off season. Each chapter is really just more like an impression of a dream than of a real story. Another apology, a name this time. I Couldn't catch it, and couldn't find it, so Dr. Devlin's first name is now Allison. If anyone can correct me, please feel free. I'll keep you updated as we move along. Hope you enjoy!
"I'm hungry" Irvin looked down at the Lieutenant's daughter. She had been playing quietly with her little rag doll all day in her father's office. He wondered if she really knew what was going on. If she knew who her father was, or why she was here, or maybe if she thought Detective Clark was her father perhaps. He felt sorry for her, getting bounced around like this. He glanced at his watch. It was almost six. He figured she probably hadn't eaten since much earlier, maybe not since breakfast.
"Um, I have some crackers here, do you like those?" he asked pulling a secret box of Ritz crackers out of one of his drawers. She nodded silently, took the offered box and went back to the office. Detective Clark came back in from the restroom.
"Detective? Rosalind's hungry. I sent her back with a box of crackers, but she'll probably need some dinner soon" Irvin told him.
"I've gotta stay here until we're done with this Kennedy thing" Clark replied.
"We just got something!" Andy announced, "Connely just called, said Flarhety just pulled up in front of the apartment building"
"Watch her!" John ordered Irvin and followed Andy out the door. Jones and Metaboy followed too. They were quiet as John knocked a couple times on the door.
"Who the hell is that?" they heard a rough Irish accented voice ask.
"I don't...I don't know Patrick" they heard Connely answer just before he opened the door. The four detectives rushed past him and grabbed Flarhety. He looked a lot like his cousin. He was tall, unlike Connely, but super skinny, black hair, pale as milk.
"Patrick Flarhety, you're coming with us" Andy told him.
"What for? Hey, you can't do this!" the man yelled at them as Jones took him out to the car. Connely was pressed up against the wall looking frightened.
"Hey, you gonna be okay?" John asked him. He looked around and then at John.
"Yes..yes sir, I'll be fine. Is Patrick coming back?"
"I don't think so" John told him. He cocked his head to the side.
"Oh. Okay." he said and then turned and went to the kitchen. John and Andy exchanged a bewildered look but left him.
Back at the station, Andy threw the man into a chair and slammed the door shut behind him.
"So, Patrick, where were you this morning?" he started.
"I was at work" Flarhety answered sullenly.
"Oh, yeah? What time?" Andy continued.
"Seven to 5:30"
"Seven, huh? Well, that's funny, cause we have witnesses that put you at Park's Diner about 7:30 for almost an hour" John told him, taking a seat on the other side of the table.
"Which is funny," Andy added, "Cause that's about what time Mehgan Kennedy died, right there at Park's"
"I don't know any Mehgan Kennedy" Flarhety said.
"You don't?! See, we thought you'd know her cause there's been a feud between your two familys for years, something about your brother killing her dad and her brother killing your brother and so on" John decided to just put it all out. Flarhety looked up with an evil look in his eye.
"Her whole family can die for all I care" he said darkly, "Damn Catholics!"
"Is that why you killed her? Cause she's Catholic?" Andy asked.
"I didn't kill her" Flarhety denied, not looking at them anymore.
"You know how she died, Patrick? Onion. Someone put onion powder all over her food. Did you know her entire family was deathly allergic to onion, Patrick?" John waited for him to respond, but he didn't. He just kinda looked at them. Then all of the sudden he jumped up from his chair and rushed for the door. Andy caught him and John had to help restrain him enough to get him away again, banging into furniture and knocking over some chairs in the mean time. A glass bottle with a screw on top fell out of his pocket and clattered onto the floor. Andy got his hands behind his back and into cuffs while John picked the bottle up. It was small, the kind kitchen herbs came in. It was empty, but he unscrewed the top and took a whiff, while Andy stuffed Flarhety back into a chair.
"Onion" John told the other man, handing him the bottle.
"Now how did that get into your pocket? Why in the world would you be carryin around an empty bottle of onion powder?" Andy asked sarcastically, because they all knew the answer already.
"Damn Catholics! If they'd just bloody leave us alone none of this would be happenin'! Me brothers would be home now, and the wench would have her bloody family! Instead I'm in bloody America, over run and surrounded by the damn Catholics!" He looked like he might try to get up again but he just sat there.
"So you did kill Mehgan Kennedy, to avenge one of your brother's deaths" Andy said, but Flarhety didn't answer. Instead he got a strange look on his face and tried to look under the table.
"What the hell is that?" he asked. Then John heard something move under the table. He pulled a chair out and looked.
"Rosalind? What are you doing in here?" he asked, suddenly feeling embarressed, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't be doing. He just hoped the poor little thing wouldn't be scared to death of him like she was of everybody else now. Damn. He reached for her and she crawled out quickly and clung to his shirt when he lifted her up.
"You're not supposed to be in here, c'mon" He started for the door, but she started screaming and trying to get out of his arms now. He couldn't keep ahold of her and was forced to set her down. She promptly scuttled into a corner and huttled there, clutching the little rag doll she never seemed to be without.
"What's wrong, Rosalind? C'mon you can't stay in here" He reached for her again, but she just pushed herself farther into the corner, big fat tears pouring down her face.
"No! No!" she cried, the loudest she'd done anything all day, "He'll kill me! He'll kill me! He kills Catholics!" She was terrified. John looked back at the man sitting with his hands cuffed behind his back, right on the way to the door.
"Are you Catholic Rosalind?" he asked gently. That was something Mrs. Collins could've told him, if she was practicing a religion. He didn't go to church himself, but if her mother (or more importantly, her father) had wanted her raised Catholic he would do his best to comply. Right now, though, he just needed to get her out of this room, preferably without frightening her out of her wits. She nodded yes to his question, eyes still huge and pumping out the tears.
"All right, look, I won't let him get you, okay? I'll protect you" She looked unwilling still, but he reached down and picked her up. She didn't scream or struggle, just hugged his throat until he thought he'd never breathe again. He started towards the door, and she started whimpering. Flarhety looked up at her. He looked.....almost repentent.
"I won't hurt ye, lass" he said quietly when they were right beside him. John looked at Andy, suddenly suspecting they might just get a confession out of him yet. He opened the door. Connie was on the phone, Jones and Metaboy were nowhere to be seen. That left him with one choice.
"Rita!" he called. She got up and came over.
"Here, take her will you? She's pretty shook up" He told her, handing Rosalind to her.
"What was she doing in there?" Rita asked.
"Just watch her for a sec okay?" John sighed and shut the door.
"You see faces like that all the time in Ireland" Flarhety was saying, "Little babes cryin', scared out of their minds, just cause they go to the wrong church. I seen it on dozens of Protestant faces" he was speaking quietly, not really looking at anything. He sighed heavily.
"But not till now did I ever see it on a Catholic's face. She were terrified of me"
"You killed Mehgan Kennedy didn't you?" John asked quietly.
"Aye. Aye I killed the lass. She weren't ever involved in the war, just her brothers. She were innocent, she were" He let his head drop, almost to the table, "What've I done?"