Law and Order-Smallville Xover
[One Police Plaza, Crime Scene Unit, 4 p.m.]
"So you're saying your boss will toss the case if we don't place our boy Lex at the condo?" Briscoe grumbled.
"I'm afraid so," Serena Southerlyn frowned. "Branch is afraid we're risking a wrongful prosecution suit if we continue to implicate Mr. Luthor."
"We're heading back to Versailles Condos to see if anyone spotted Lex in the building last night -- even for just a couple of minutes," Green added. "We need a day or two."
"My boss says you have until tomorrow," Serena stated. Green slapped Briscoe on the shoulder. "C'mon Lennie. Let's hustle."
Serena glanced around. This was the CSU. Whatever you needed to know about a crime scene: photographs, ballistics testing, DNA results ... you could find out here.
"Ms. Southerlyn?" lab technician Ray Hong inquired. "We might have something of interest."
On a table were various household items: plates, forks, magazines, CDs. All bagged, tagged and catalogued.
"This glass here," Hong began, "We found it on the coffee table near the body. Minute saliva traces. The DNA doesn't match Ms. Saunders'"
"I'll let Lt. Van Buren know," Serena replied, "but that's only half the equation. We need to match it against Lex Luthor's DNA."
"If you can do that," Hong added, "you've got your smoking gun."
Serena examined the glass. One DNA sample could exonerate Lex Luthor.
Or condemn him ...
[Versailles Condominiums, 5:05 p.m.]
"If I don't fix that leaky faucet," building superintendent Joe Solensky insisted, "Mrs. Holden's gonna have a conniption. I don't need that grief."
"Just a few minutes, super," Briscoe replied. "Think back to last night. Did you see anything? Notice anyone suspicious? Maybe Mr. Luthor forgot a file and came back to get it?"
"Last night, I was working on the furnace. It's near the underground parking..."
"So there's another entrance to the building?"
"Yeah," the super admitted. "We have a lot of hot shots living here. Movie stars, pro athletes, politicians. They can use a private elevator. Accessible from the parking level."
"Maybe we can check the security camera," Briscoe offered.
In the security room, the super instructed the guard to pull out yesterday's video records.
"You sure management's o.k. with this?" the guard demanded.
"Look," the super argued, "After 5, I'm management. They're gonna get the tape sooner or later. Just pop in the tape already!"
"I like this guy's style," Briscoe joked. They fast-forwarded to 6 p.m.
"Nothing," Green grumbled, "just the guards doing their rounds."
"Wait. Stop there." Briscoe studied the video. "I don't know about you, but I'd bet that bald individual is none other than Lex."
"We'll need that tape," Green replied. The guard reluctantly handed it over.
"Thanks, super," Briscoe said, "We'll have our techie guys wash this thing through to get a clearer picture."
When they arrived at their sedan, Green's cellphone rang. "Any news, detectives?" Van Buren asked.
"We got a video of Lex entering the building about 10 to seven that night," Green replied, "We're going to the CSU now."
[The Oak Room Pub, 5:25 p.m.]
Jack McCoy carved into his fillet of salmon. "I got your message, counsellor. Briscoe and Green got something?"
"They just busted a hole through Luthor's alibi," Serena revealed, "A videotape of Lex entering the condo around the time of the murder."
Jack wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Better, but still circumstantial. And we still can't place him at the crime scene. Even with that glass the CSU found, we'd need a DNA sample from Lex. I doubt he'd cooperate." Serena seemed disappointed.
"But ..." McCoy continued, "We can subpoena him as a material witness. To hell with what Branch thinks! At least to keep Luthor in New York. All we need now is motive."
"That FedEx package?" Serena replied.
Jack nodded. "The fraud squad looked it over. Something about transactions of chemicals to Eastern Europe. Lex may not be responsible for, or have knowledge of, Luthor Corp.'s international affairs. But Lionel Luthor does."
"So we send Briscoe and Green to Kansas to question him," Serena offered.
"No, I don't want to tip our hand just yet. Have the detectives bring in Lex for further questioning. Maybe he'll crack, maybe not. We need more hands on this investigation."
"I had coffee with ADA Cabot yesterday," Serena said, "She says detectives Tutuola and Munch were looking forward to their time off ..."
"Oh really," Jack's raised an eyebrow.
[Special Victims Unit, One Police Plaza, 6:15 p.m.]
"Olivia, Elliot, go pick him up." Capt. Donald Cragen.
"He's a state assemblyman. Maybe we should only arrest him when we've got rock-solid evidence," Det. Elliot Stabler suggested.
"Well, two corroborating witnesses are good enough for me," Cragen insisted, "This guy's a perverted slime-bag and a threat to the community! Book him. Let the stuffed shirts in Albany deal with the fallout."
Detectives John Munch and Fin Tutuola high-fived each other. "Atlantic City here I come," Tutuola kidded. "I'm off the clock as of right now."
"You said it, man," Munch hollered, "I'm stickin' close to home. The Big Apple, with its distractions - a both sacred and profane -- await me. And I intend to sample both of them."
"Before you paint the town red, fellas," Cragen slapped a file into Munch's chest, "Your off-time's been revoked. Not my call."
"What the f--!" Tutuola blurted.
"Don't finish that thought," Cragen continued, "Homicide needs some extra eyes and ears. Lex Luthor's somehow associated with a murder on Park Ave. It's up to you to connect the dots. The D.A. wants to do this thing by the book. Briscoe and Green are working over Richie Rich right now. You guys gotta deliver the motive. Your flight to Metropolis leaves in a hour. All the jurisdictional paperwork's been forwarded to Topeka and the D.A.'s office. Those files will get you up to speed. You want someone to blame - blame D.A. McCoy."
"Kansas? Why the hell are we going there?" Tutuola wondered.
"Come on, Dorothy, let's go," Munch smirked, "If Jack 'Hang 'em High' McCoy wants us to go to Kansas, we'll go where duty calls us."
"Hmmph," Tutuola grumbled, "more like Jack-ass McCoy if you ask me!"
"So much for my dreams of going buck wild in the Big Apple," Munch sighed.
[The Talon, Smallville 7 p.m. local time]
"Sheriff Miller seemed a bit antsy," Lana noted. Chloe sipped her coffee.
"How so?" Chloe asked.
"He was here to pick up a coffee for the road," Lana continued, "when one of his deputies raced in here. They had a few words, then the sheriff almost blew a gasket! He stormed out raving something about 'city slickers' meddling in local affairs..."
On the TV, news broke about the Saunders murder "... our New York affiliate reports that Lex Luthor is being questioned as a material witness in the suspicious death of Luthor Corp. marketing exec Chelsea Saunders ..."
Lana and Chloe traded glances. "Lex, a murderer?" Lana doubted. "How could that be?"
"Well, technically, he's only a material witness now," Chloe corrected her, "but maybe the cops just want to keep him from skipping the country. If he's guilty."
"You heard it here first, he's guilty as sin," Pete declared.
"And what evidence do you have to back that up, counsellor?" Chloe inquired.
Pete shrugged. "He's a Luthor. Self-preservation is a big thing with them. They'll do or say anything to keep you-know-what from hitting the fan."
"Where's Clark?" Lana asked.
"Still trying to get in touch with Lex," Pete replied. "But if those news reports prove to be true, he'd have a better chance of reaching him up in Attica. That's where they send the hardened criminals ... they bust them upstate."
"I think you've watched one too many NYPD Blue episodes," Chloe laughed.
[Metropolis International Airport, arrivals level]
NYPD detectives Munch and Tutuola picked up their luggage.
Munch looked puzzled. "Where's our motorcade? I thought at the very least, the governor would be greeting us here ... thanking us for our help."
"You're going to have to settle for a rental car," Tutuola remarked. "So what's the big deal about this Smallville?"
"In the mid-to-late eighties," Munch began, "a massive meteor shower flattened the town. Lionel Luthor's son, Lex, was exposed to inter-galactic radiation. That's why he's bald. Throw in a father who's more interested in building empires than parenting ..."
"... and you've got yourself a template for psychopathic tendencies," Tutuola concluded.
"Then again," Munch stopped, "a lot of inexplicable things happened in the county in the years after the meteor shower ... strange deaths ... unusual accidents ..."
Tutuola shook his head. "I think the psychopath theory makes more sense. 'Alien radiation' won't exactly hold up as a defense for Murder One."
"Ah, ye of little faith. There's more to quaint, homey Smallville than meets the eye," Munch mumbled, as he turned on the car ignition.
[One Police Plaza, Crime Scene Unit, 4 p.m.]
"So you're saying your boss will toss the case if we don't place our boy Lex at the condo?" Briscoe grumbled.
"I'm afraid so," Serena Southerlyn frowned. "Branch is afraid we're risking a wrongful prosecution suit if we continue to implicate Mr. Luthor."
"We're heading back to Versailles Condos to see if anyone spotted Lex in the building last night -- even for just a couple of minutes," Green added. "We need a day or two."
"My boss says you have until tomorrow," Serena stated. Green slapped Briscoe on the shoulder. "C'mon Lennie. Let's hustle."
Serena glanced around. This was the CSU. Whatever you needed to know about a crime scene: photographs, ballistics testing, DNA results ... you could find out here.
"Ms. Southerlyn?" lab technician Ray Hong inquired. "We might have something of interest."
On a table were various household items: plates, forks, magazines, CDs. All bagged, tagged and catalogued.
"This glass here," Hong began, "We found it on the coffee table near the body. Minute saliva traces. The DNA doesn't match Ms. Saunders'"
"I'll let Lt. Van Buren know," Serena replied, "but that's only half the equation. We need to match it against Lex Luthor's DNA."
"If you can do that," Hong added, "you've got your smoking gun."
Serena examined the glass. One DNA sample could exonerate Lex Luthor.
Or condemn him ...
[Versailles Condominiums, 5:05 p.m.]
"If I don't fix that leaky faucet," building superintendent Joe Solensky insisted, "Mrs. Holden's gonna have a conniption. I don't need that grief."
"Just a few minutes, super," Briscoe replied. "Think back to last night. Did you see anything? Notice anyone suspicious? Maybe Mr. Luthor forgot a file and came back to get it?"
"Last night, I was working on the furnace. It's near the underground parking..."
"So there's another entrance to the building?"
"Yeah," the super admitted. "We have a lot of hot shots living here. Movie stars, pro athletes, politicians. They can use a private elevator. Accessible from the parking level."
"Maybe we can check the security camera," Briscoe offered.
In the security room, the super instructed the guard to pull out yesterday's video records.
"You sure management's o.k. with this?" the guard demanded.
"Look," the super argued, "After 5, I'm management. They're gonna get the tape sooner or later. Just pop in the tape already!"
"I like this guy's style," Briscoe joked. They fast-forwarded to 6 p.m.
"Nothing," Green grumbled, "just the guards doing their rounds."
"Wait. Stop there." Briscoe studied the video. "I don't know about you, but I'd bet that bald individual is none other than Lex."
"We'll need that tape," Green replied. The guard reluctantly handed it over.
"Thanks, super," Briscoe said, "We'll have our techie guys wash this thing through to get a clearer picture."
When they arrived at their sedan, Green's cellphone rang. "Any news, detectives?" Van Buren asked.
"We got a video of Lex entering the building about 10 to seven that night," Green replied, "We're going to the CSU now."
[The Oak Room Pub, 5:25 p.m.]
Jack McCoy carved into his fillet of salmon. "I got your message, counsellor. Briscoe and Green got something?"
"They just busted a hole through Luthor's alibi," Serena revealed, "A videotape of Lex entering the condo around the time of the murder."
Jack wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Better, but still circumstantial. And we still can't place him at the crime scene. Even with that glass the CSU found, we'd need a DNA sample from Lex. I doubt he'd cooperate." Serena seemed disappointed.
"But ..." McCoy continued, "We can subpoena him as a material witness. To hell with what Branch thinks! At least to keep Luthor in New York. All we need now is motive."
"That FedEx package?" Serena replied.
Jack nodded. "The fraud squad looked it over. Something about transactions of chemicals to Eastern Europe. Lex may not be responsible for, or have knowledge of, Luthor Corp.'s international affairs. But Lionel Luthor does."
"So we send Briscoe and Green to Kansas to question him," Serena offered.
"No, I don't want to tip our hand just yet. Have the detectives bring in Lex for further questioning. Maybe he'll crack, maybe not. We need more hands on this investigation."
"I had coffee with ADA Cabot yesterday," Serena said, "She says detectives Tutuola and Munch were looking forward to their time off ..."
"Oh really," Jack's raised an eyebrow.
[Special Victims Unit, One Police Plaza, 6:15 p.m.]
"Olivia, Elliot, go pick him up." Capt. Donald Cragen.
"He's a state assemblyman. Maybe we should only arrest him when we've got rock-solid evidence," Det. Elliot Stabler suggested.
"Well, two corroborating witnesses are good enough for me," Cragen insisted, "This guy's a perverted slime-bag and a threat to the community! Book him. Let the stuffed shirts in Albany deal with the fallout."
Detectives John Munch and Fin Tutuola high-fived each other. "Atlantic City here I come," Tutuola kidded. "I'm off the clock as of right now."
"You said it, man," Munch hollered, "I'm stickin' close to home. The Big Apple, with its distractions - a both sacred and profane -- await me. And I intend to sample both of them."
"Before you paint the town red, fellas," Cragen slapped a file into Munch's chest, "Your off-time's been revoked. Not my call."
"What the f--!" Tutuola blurted.
"Don't finish that thought," Cragen continued, "Homicide needs some extra eyes and ears. Lex Luthor's somehow associated with a murder on Park Ave. It's up to you to connect the dots. The D.A. wants to do this thing by the book. Briscoe and Green are working over Richie Rich right now. You guys gotta deliver the motive. Your flight to Metropolis leaves in a hour. All the jurisdictional paperwork's been forwarded to Topeka and the D.A.'s office. Those files will get you up to speed. You want someone to blame - blame D.A. McCoy."
"Kansas? Why the hell are we going there?" Tutuola wondered.
"Come on, Dorothy, let's go," Munch smirked, "If Jack 'Hang 'em High' McCoy wants us to go to Kansas, we'll go where duty calls us."
"Hmmph," Tutuola grumbled, "more like Jack-ass McCoy if you ask me!"
"So much for my dreams of going buck wild in the Big Apple," Munch sighed.
[The Talon, Smallville 7 p.m. local time]
"Sheriff Miller seemed a bit antsy," Lana noted. Chloe sipped her coffee.
"How so?" Chloe asked.
"He was here to pick up a coffee for the road," Lana continued, "when one of his deputies raced in here. They had a few words, then the sheriff almost blew a gasket! He stormed out raving something about 'city slickers' meddling in local affairs..."
On the TV, news broke about the Saunders murder "... our New York affiliate reports that Lex Luthor is being questioned as a material witness in the suspicious death of Luthor Corp. marketing exec Chelsea Saunders ..."
Lana and Chloe traded glances. "Lex, a murderer?" Lana doubted. "How could that be?"
"Well, technically, he's only a material witness now," Chloe corrected her, "but maybe the cops just want to keep him from skipping the country. If he's guilty."
"You heard it here first, he's guilty as sin," Pete declared.
"And what evidence do you have to back that up, counsellor?" Chloe inquired.
Pete shrugged. "He's a Luthor. Self-preservation is a big thing with them. They'll do or say anything to keep you-know-what from hitting the fan."
"Where's Clark?" Lana asked.
"Still trying to get in touch with Lex," Pete replied. "But if those news reports prove to be true, he'd have a better chance of reaching him up in Attica. That's where they send the hardened criminals ... they bust them upstate."
"I think you've watched one too many NYPD Blue episodes," Chloe laughed.
[Metropolis International Airport, arrivals level]
NYPD detectives Munch and Tutuola picked up their luggage.
Munch looked puzzled. "Where's our motorcade? I thought at the very least, the governor would be greeting us here ... thanking us for our help."
"You're going to have to settle for a rental car," Tutuola remarked. "So what's the big deal about this Smallville?"
"In the mid-to-late eighties," Munch began, "a massive meteor shower flattened the town. Lionel Luthor's son, Lex, was exposed to inter-galactic radiation. That's why he's bald. Throw in a father who's more interested in building empires than parenting ..."
"... and you've got yourself a template for psychopathic tendencies," Tutuola concluded.
"Then again," Munch stopped, "a lot of inexplicable things happened in the county in the years after the meteor shower ... strange deaths ... unusual accidents ..."
Tutuola shook his head. "I think the psychopath theory makes more sense. 'Alien radiation' won't exactly hold up as a defense for Murder One."
"Ah, ye of little faith. There's more to quaint, homey Smallville than meets the eye," Munch mumbled, as he turned on the car ignition.