Disclaimer: The characters of LO: CI belong to Dick Wolf and NBC and America, oh so far away.
Author note: Yes it's the holidays and I'm writing lots and my computer's better!! Woo hoo!! Thanks to everyone who reviewed!
Chapter Four: The Questions
No one would ever know he was here. Hands encased in latex gloves, he gripped the steering wheel of his silver Ford Falcon tightly. Peering through the foggy windscreen at the house across the street.
The man was waving goodbye to the woman standing forlornly on the porch.
Suddenly he noticed her eyes float over to his car. Her eyebrow lowered slightly.
But it was enough.
His heart began to beat painfully against his chest. His hands were clammy in the gloves. He forced down the panic.
That she knew; it was impossible.
That she even suspected was beyond reason.
Slowly he calmed down.
She didn't know him, but he knew her.
Oh yes, Leonie Roberts was like a sister, a best friend, a lover. He recalled her darkest fears and her secret habits. He knew her needs.
The man had gone now and she was closing the door, not a second thought about the car across the road.
He opened the door and stepped out into the street.
Pacing the scene, again.
It was the third time he had walked from the dining room in the Stanton house, through the kitchen and out the back door. To where the woman was murdered.
He could see why.
He could see how.
He knew when and where.
But what was puzzling him was the motive of this anonymous man.
Eames was talking to the neighbours, but everyone else, except one CS tech, was long gone.
He stood next to the white chalk outline of the woman's body.
What had she seen?
The cut electrical wires? No, they were underneath the box and she was standing straight up when the perp grabbed her. He could tell by the way she fell.
It was obvious to Goren the events that led to her death. The perp had cut the electrical lines, luring Carla outside. Then he grabbed her around the throat from behind, waited till she passed out then cut the marks into her back.
Guess who.
A thought nagged at him; it had been since Carla's husband mentioned the drugs. He wanted to know why. Why was she so depressed? It was a long shot, but did Ed Stanton know who sold her the drugs?
All these questions, no answers.
He walked back to Eames.
"Anything?" He asked.
"Well, it's probably nothing, but one of the neighbours heard her yelling."
"Only her, not another person too?"
Eames consulted her watch book filled with tiny, neat handwriting. "No, only her. I was thinking, phone call?"
"Probably. I found something over there," he pointed to the side of the house. "Cut electrical wires. I think the perp used that as a lure to draw her outside."
"Well that doesn't help very much..."
"Yeah, I wasn't going to mention it but then you told me about the phone call...perhaps the perp was on the phone? He was going to attack her afterwards but...she got edgy, locked the door. He had to get to her some other way...." The famous Goren pause as something clicked in his brain.
"He had to get to her..." Another pause. "Eames...we're looking for someone with obsessive-compulsive tendencies. Specifically someone who has paranoia..."
"Of course! I'll make the call." She turned away as she rang H.Q.
"Yes, this is Detective Alex Eames...we need records of anyone diagnosed with obsessive compulsive disorder, specifically with paranoid tendencies, in the last..."
she looked at Goren, who whispered, "two years."
"....two years, please."
She rolled her eyes as undoubtedly she was put on hold.
Ten minutes later her eyes lit up again as the person came back on the line.
"Detective Eames?" Asked a young-sounding man. "That's a pretty big field you asked me for...nineteen million people in the U.S. alone have--"
"Can you give me the results please? We're a little short on time with a serial killer on the loose and all..." She snapped angrily. The people at NYPD inquiries were more social than helpful sometimes.
"Uh, sure miss. Here...Umm....there have been two million adults diagnosed this year."
"Can you narrow it down to New York?"
"Okay, about one mill?"
Eames sighed. "And males?"
"Four thousand."
"Oh well at least that eliminates one and a half million! Thanks." She hung up with a snap.
"Well," Bobby said, ever optimistic. "The only thing we can do is start following up those drug leads."
"Mr Stanton!"
The man turned deftly, and for all that Bobby knew the man had already left; his eyes were impassive and cold, his mouth didn't return the detective's smile as he raced up to him.
"Yes?"
"Your wife...did she talk to you about the drugs?"
The man's stare was even colder when he replied, "Yes. She talked everything over with me."
Great, thought Bobby. He's on the defense. "So she told you who sold the coke to her?"
Ed Stanton seemed to be weighing up the answer. Finally he said, "No. She didn't know who it was. The guy gave her the drugs in the mail. They never met face-to-face."
Goren was surprised. How could a vulnerable woman in her mid-forties trust a man she never met to supply her with drugs? To him it seemed strange.
"He did something to gain her trust?" he asked.
"Listen detective; my wife's personal life was her own. I only knew what she told me and she didn't tell me anything about this guy, get it?" Stanton turned and walked heatedly towards his car.
Eames walked over to Goren as he stood staring after Ed Stanton.
"What was that all about?" She asked incredulously.
"He really doesn't know who sold her the drugs...but we know it's a guy. And I think it's our perp."
"Care to share, Bobby?"
"Well, think about it. Our perp doesn't like being seen. He likes anonymity, and he also likes power. The person who sold Carla the drugs never met face to face."
Eames sighed. "Wow, this case just keeps getting easier!"
Next chapter up really soon! Sorry this one took so long. Please review!!