Chapter Thirteen – Connections

Eric e-mailed Dawn a list of occult shops where a smart amateur could pick up the supplies he needed for the ritual. It wasn't the two or three Buffy had been hoping for. The list had fourteen shops. Three sold genuine crystals, the others sold replicas or fakes good enough to fool an amateur.

Buffy, Munch and Tutuola had spent the rest of the afternoon going to occult shops and tracking leads. They started with the shops that sold genuine crystals. Between them seven people had purchased the proper crystal since the beginning of the year.

They were leaving an apartment complex.

"Gift to bless the birth of a new member of the clan, protective charm to keep out evil spirits, anointing a new alter," Munch said. "How many different uses for these crystals are there?"

"There tools Munch," Buffy said. "And like any good tool there are a lot of different uses. Most of them are benign. Some of them, unfortunately, can be bad. What this guy is doing is a perversion."

"If only people would learn to use their crystals for good instead of evil," Munch deadpanned.

"Something like that," Buffy smiled back.

"You a gypsy now?" Tutuola asked.

"No," Buffy replied. "But I've met enough of the real thing to know the difference between what they practice and what this bastard's doing."

"Well," Munch said. "That takes care of the real McCoys. Now we start on the shops that sell knockoffs."

"Getting late," Tutuola looked down at a sheet of paper. "Most are either closed or will be by the time we get there."

"So start again tomorrow morning?" Buffy asked.

"We'll drop you at your hotel," Munch replied.


The next morning as the sisters came into the station house Dawn was talking on her cell phone.

"Right," she said. "You don't know what's in the translations but you're fairly certain he was working with the scrolls ... That sounds about as close as we're going to get ... Tell him I said thanks and he only owes us a couple of hundred favors now ... Just e-mail everything to me then go home and get some sleep ... We'll take it from here Linda. Go home. Get sleep ... Bye."

"So what's up?" Benson asked.

"Linda found a lead on a German scholar who may have worked with the scrolls in the late eighteenth century," Dawn answered. "He's notorious for the poor quality of his translations."

"So how does that help us?"

"The Pierpont Morgan Library has a collection of his works in their archives," Dawn replied. "Linda couldn't find out if it includes a translation of our ritual but it's the closest she could find to a link to New York."

"I'll grab the Captain," Stabler said.

"Give me second, I need to make a quick phone call," Dawn hit the speed dial on her phone, waited for a second and then punched in an extension. She waited another couple of seconds, "Willow, Dawn ... Yes we're still in New York and I'm sorry you've had to bear the brunt of Giles' annoyance ... Willow I need you to go down to research and make sure Linda goes home and gets some sleep ... Because I'm pretty sure she hasn't slept in over thirty six hours ... Nine year old girl murdered ... Exactly. Thanks Willow. Take care of Linda for me and I'll say hi to Buffy for you," she clicked off the phone and looked over at Buffy. "Willow says hi."

"And that was about?" Benson asked.

"Linda has two nieces ages eight and six that she absolutely adores," Dawn said. "I doubt she's slept since she found the scrolls."

"I understand," Benson said.

"Giles is Dr. Rupert Giles?" Munch asked.

"Yep," Dawn replied. She started setting up her laptop.

"Knew him for seven years before I found out he had two doctorate degrees," Buffy said. "I still can't believe he didn't tell us."

"And how do you know he didn't," Dawn said. "You did have a tendency to zone out whenever he went into professor mode."

"I was not that bad," Buffy shot back. "I always paid attention to the important stuff. And Willow was just as surprised as Xander and I were and she loved professor mode."

Cragen walked up at that point. "I just got off the phone with the Chief. Elliot says you may have a lead."

"German scholar, there may be a translation of the ritual in The Morgan Library's archives," Dawn said.

"Benson, Stabler, check it out," Cragen said. "Dawn since you speak Museum, go with them to make sure this translation is what we're looking for."

"Ok," Dawn replied. "I got to warn you, my German's a little rusty."

"You can translate a fifteen hundred year old dead language on the fly and your German's a little rusty?" Benson said.

"I don't use it that often," Dawn shrugged. "I spend most of my time dealing with dead languages."

Cragen shook his head. "Munch, Tutuola, where are we with the magic shops?"

"We've eliminated the spots where he could have gotten a real crystal," Munch said. "Two of the buyers left town, the other five all seem to have legitimate uses for their crystals."

"Legitimate uses for a magic crystal," Cragen shook his head. "I've officially heard everything. Start on the other stores."

"We're on it," Tutuola said.


Three hours later Buffy, Munch and Tutuola were walking up to their fourth magic shop of the day.

"Well the good news is we don't have to chase down a lot of buyers," Munch said. "The bad news is, we don't have any leads."

"People in the know won't buy from these kind of shops," Buffy said. "The customers who come to places like this are wannabes who think they know a lot but really don't know anything."

"Let's hope our perp falls into that category," Tutuola held the door open for Buffy and Munch.

Buffy shook her head as she walked into the shop. It was just like the other three. All the outward trappings of a magic supply store. But far too new age and obviously set up to exploit people's ignorance. Nothing here had any real power. This type of place fed the worst stereotypes about magic. Willow went ballistic over places like this.

A man looked up from the counter. "How may I help you today, a charm for luck, perhaps one to guard you in the dark."

"Already got one of those," Munch said, holding up his badge. "Detectives Munch and Tutuola. We need to find out if anyone has purchased these items in the last three months," he handed a list over to man behind the counter.

He looked the list over for a few seconds, "Yes we sell these items, but I don't recall anyone buying them." Munch noticed that he wouldn't look him in the eyes.

"Maybe you should take a closer look," Munch said. "Perhaps check your sales receipts."

He glimpsed down at the list again and starting shaking his head, "No I'm certain I would remember such a sale."

Tutuola leaned over the counter. "Why do I get the feeling you're not being honest with us."

"I assure you officer. I'm telling the truth," he still wouldn't meet their eyes.

"You know I bet you do a lot of cash business in a place like this," Munch said. "Tell me do you always keep up with your sales taxes?"

The man started getting nervous.

"Maybe I should put a call in," Munch continued. "Have them shut you down for a couple of weeks while they go over your books. While they do that I'll have the DA subpoena your customer list and we'll send officers to talk to each and every one of them. We'll be certain to say you sent them."

"Of course if you tell us who bought this stuff, my partner might forget to make that call," Tutuola said.

"Officer that really won't be necessary," the man said. "I don't understand your hostility."

"This is murder investigation," Munch said. "These items were used to murder four people. Now if we find out you supplied them and then lied to us about it, we can charge you as an accessory to four murders."

"I bet the boys at the cell block could come up with some real interesting uses for one of these crystals." Tutuola waved his hand over the display case holding various crystals and pendants.

"Please," the man was sweating. "I don't know anything. This guy came in at the beginning of the year. Handed me a list that looked almost identical to this one. Said he was going to make a big change in his life. I didn't know he was going to do anything."

"Have you seen him since then?" Munch said.

"Yes. He came in again about three weeks ago. Bought some more herbs, few ceremonial candles, a couple of other things. He said things were going perfectly, he found everyone he needed."

"We need a name," Tutuola said.

"I don't have it. He paid cash for everything. Gave me an extra hundred last time and said to forget I ever saw him."

Tutuola grabbed the man's shoulder and walked him out from behind the counter. "Guess what, you're closing early today."

"Why?"

"You're coming down to the station house to sit with one our sketch artists."

"But my store."

"I can still make that call," Munch said. "Your choice. An afternoon or a couple of weeks."

The man's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Just let me lock up the cash register."