Chapter Sixteen – Power

Munch and Tutuola were going over printouts of The Morgan Library's patron list.

"Doesn't look like a lot of farmers like to look at old books," Munch said.

"I think I got something," Tutuola said. "Dennis Glaser, he's a lawyer, but he listed his wife as a landscape architect."

"Landscapers spend a lot of time tilling the soil," Munch responded. "Let's check it out."


It was early evening when Munch and Tutuola knocked on the door of Dennis and Patricia Glaser's brownstone. A middle-aged man answered the door.

"Yes," he said.

"Mr. Glaser," Munch held up his badge. "Detectives Munch and Tutuola NYPD."

"How may I help you officers?" Mr. Glaser said.

"Is your wife home tonight?" Munch asked.

"Yes," Mr. Glaser replied. "She's upstairs changing. We have tickets to a late show this evening. What's this about? Why do you want to see Pat?"

"We're just doing some checking," Munch replied. "Your both patrons of The Morgan Library?"

"Yes," Mr. Glaser. "Detectives, I'm a lawyer. What is this about? Are you accusing us of some crime?"

"Hey Munch," Tutuola said. "What kind of car does Cummings drive again?"

"2000 Ford Taurus, blue," Munch replied.

"About a half block down, other side of the street, under a burnt out street light," Tutuola said. "There's a guy sitting in a Taurus."

"Mr. Glaser, close and lock your door please," Munch said.

"What's going on?" Mr. Glaser. "Is there someone out there?"

"Mr. Glaser just close your door and stay inside," Munch gently pulled the door closed.

Munch and Tutuola started down the street, careful not to look at the car. Just looking like two guys walking. As they walked Tutuola pulled out his cell phone and called for backup. When they reached the end of the block they crossed to the other side of the street and approached the Taurus from behind.

As they moved up behind the car Tutuola moved out into the street. He had his gun out and hidden behind his leg. Munch moved up on the other side of the car. The driver's side window was open. Tutuola signaled to Munch and pulled out his gun. He pointed it directly at the man's head.

"Police!" Tutuola shouted. "Keep your hands where I can see them!"

Munch came around the front of the car. He had his gun out. When he reached the driver's side Tutuola pulled the door open dragged the man out onto the street.

"You can not touch me," the man said. "I am protected by a power you can not understand."

"Maybe not," Munch said. "But I do understand this. Alan Cummings, you are under arrest for the murders of Margaret Charney, Thomas Nickles, Emily Gaston and Amanda Peterson. You have the right to remain silent ...."


Buffy and Dawn were looking through the two-way mirror into the interrogation room. Stabler and Tutuola were trying to talk with Alan Cummings who was handcuffed and just sitting there saying nothing.

Buffy studied Cummings. He was maybe five nine, five ten. Looked to be in good shape. Probably worked out some. She recalled Benson mentioning something about exercise equipment at his house. He had dark hair, cut short. He looked just like an ordinary guy. Her senses told her he had no magic, no power. Buffy shook her head.

Benson came up to the sisters. "I've been doing this for a lot of years. Every once and a while I still expect these guys to have horns, fangs, something that makes it obvious they're monsters."

Buffy smirked, "It's never that obvious. Even with the ones who have fangs."

"Excuse me?" Benson said.

"Long story," Buffy responded.

"And you wouldn't believe most of it," Dawn added.

"So what happens now?" Buffy asked.

"He'll be arraigned tomorrow morning," Cabot walked up. "He'll be remanded to custody. No judge is going to grant bail to someone who murdered a child. We've already got enough physical evidence to convict him on all four murders. And that's before we match his DNA to the semen recovered at the crime scenes. Has he asked for a lawyer?"

"Not yet," Benson said. "Hasn't said a word since John and Fin brought him in. The only thing he said to them was that he was protected. Whatever that means."

Dawn looked over at Buffy who just shook her head.

"We don't need a confession," Cabot said. "Stop the interrogation. I don't want to risk this guy saying something without a lawyer present. I'm not taking any chances."

"Alright," Benson went to the door and motioned Stabler and Tutuola out of the room. A uniformed officer took their place in the room to watch Cummings.

"Guy just sits there," Stabler said. "Won't say a word."

"Looks like he's in shook," Tutuola said. "When we grabbed him, he acted like he couldn't believe we found him."

"Maybe he thought his 'magic' would protect him," Stabler said.

"Was he wearing anything?" Dawn asked. "Something like a charm or pendant?"

"Yea," Tutuola said. "He was wearing a necklace with some weird crystal. Got real upset when we took it off him."

"Can I see it?" Dawn asked. "I don't need to touch it or anything. I just want to look at it."

Tutuola looked over at Cabot who nodded her head. "Don't see a problem with that," he said.

He led the two sisters back to his desk where Munch was putting some items into a box.

"Hey Munch," Tutuola said. "You got that necklace we took off Cummings."

"Yea," Munch replied. "Got it right here," he pulled a clear plastic bag out of the box and handed it to Tutuola.

"So what do you make of this?" Tutuola said handing the bag to Dawn.

Dawn smiled and shook her head. "This guy's even dumber and more ignorant of magic then I thought."

"Why?" Benson asked. "What is that?"

"It's a replica of a gypsy charm," Dawn said. "You can tell because it's made from the wrong color crystal."

"So what's funny about it?" Tutuola said.

"It's supposed to protect the righteous from those who would seek to do them harm," Dawn said.

"Cummings is not righteous," Munch said.

"No kidding," Dawn replied. "They say when someone like him tries to use a charm like this, it draws the forces of righteousness directly too him."

"How can you be so certain it's a fake?" Cabot asked.

Dawn smiled. She reached up to the chain of her necklace and pulled out the crystal that was hidden under her shirt out. It was cut into almost the same shape as the one in the bag but was blue instead of red.

"I got this as a gift from the head of one of those gypsy clans I mentioned the other day," Dawn said.

Cragen walked up at that moment. "Since Cabot says we don't need a confession, let's take Cummings down to central booking."

"We're on it," Tutuola said. He and Munch went back to the interrogation room. A couple of minutes later they came back into the squad room escorting a handcuffed Alan Cummings.

"You think you can hold me," Cummings started saying. "I aspire to the power of a god. You can not hope to hold me."

Buffy turned to stare at him. She let the Slayer out. She directed all of her senses at him, all of her power. The people around her took an involuntary step back. Only Dawn held her ground. Cummings stopped talking as Buffy met his eyes. He just froze and a look of terror crossed his face. Buffy pulled the Slayer back. She snorted.

"You're not a god," she said. "You're just man. A very small little man, who's going to spend the rest of his life in a very small cage," she turned her back on him.

Munch and Tutuola jerked Cummings back into motion and continued out of the squad room. Cummings' mouth just hung open as he stared at Buffy.

Cabot blinked. "What the hell was that?"

"He thought he understood power," Buffy smiled. "I thought I would introduce him to the real thing. I think he got the message. It's getting late. Dawn and I should probably head back to our hotel and make arrangements to get back to our lives. We'll swing by tomorrow and say bye on our way to the airport."

Buffy and Dawn left the squad room. Cabot turned to Cragen.

"If we hadn't let them help us, how long would it have taken to catch Cummings?" she asked.

"I don't know," Cragen replied. "We never would have found the link to the ritual or The Morgan Library without them. The magic store he used was listed as a specialty shop in the phone book, so I don't know how we would have found it. And we probably wouldn't have picked up on the stalking behavior until more bodies showed up."

"And what do you think they would have done if we hadn't let them in?" Cabot asked.

"I really don't want to know," Cragen replied. "But I'm pretty sure Alan Cummings is lucky we got to him before Buffy did."