A/N: Please refer to notes and disclaimers in chapter one.

Chapter 3

Goren and Eames sat at their desks when Deakins approached, looking for a status report.

"We talked to the whole band," Eames explained. "They all have alibis. We checked with Bigelow's credit card company, they confirm a purchase of an LIRR ticket at Hicksville at 1am, a few beers at a dive off of 42nd St, another LIRR purchase from Penn Station to Hicksville at 4am, and a cab ride at five. Cab driver picked his photo from an array. Mitchell, Masterson, and Castinelli were seen at the Empress Diner on the Hempstead Turnpike in East Meadow from three until five, and Woodwater was on the phone with his girlfriend at 3:30 for an hour, confirmed by both the girlfriend and the phone company."

"So it wasn't any of these kids," Deakins concluded. He looked down at Goren, who was looking through a file. "What do you have?"

"File on Jerry Barone," Goren answered, looking up at his boss. "He has priors for possession and larceny."

"Bring him in," Deakins answered.

Major Case Squad

Interrogation Room A

Friday, March 11, 2005

"That was just a misunderstanding," Jerry explained nervously. "The larceny… my boss at another job didn't like me, so when money started coming up missing he just blamed me outta nowhere, and I mean nowhere. The possession…well that I'll admit. I was coming home from a party and I had a little pot in my pocket. I haven't touched the stuff since. I'm telling you, that Eric kid, he's the one with the drug problem."

"We're looking into that," Eames said. "Where were you this morning between midnight and four?"

"Me? I punched out at two and went home and went to sleep."

"Alone?" Eames asked.

He seemed to be searching for something. Goren caught his eyes and brought them down from the corner of the ceiling.

"Were you alone, Jerry?"

"Yes," he said. "I was alone."

"We have a problem, Jerry," Goren informed him. "You were seen coming out of the club closer to three. How is that possible?"

He tried to stay tough, but Jerry finally caved. "Joey and I were lovers. It ended a few months ago, but this morning when I walked in and Joey was arguing with that kid… he left and it was just me and Joey in the club and… I don't know what happened, we just picked up where we left off. Afterwards there was no small talk, I just left to go home. He was fine when I left. He was putting his pants back on and said 'See ya tomorrow, Jer.' That's what he called me, he called me Jer."

"Who ended it?" Eames asked.

"I did. His wife found out about us so I ended it. She filed for divorce anyway. I felt-I still feel horrible. I feel like it was my fault, even though Joey told me dozens of times it wasn't. I still care about him, even after he's dead. I would never hurt him. Never."

He gasped out the last word before collapsing into a sobbing heap on the table.

There was a knock on the door before an officer opened it and stepped in to hand a file to Eames, who was closer. Both detectives looked it over while Jerry took his time.

"Jerry," Goren said. "Were there any instruments kept around the club?"

Jerry sat up and wiped his eyes. "There was one. A Fender autographed by Aerosmith. Joey kept it on a display stand in his office."

A tap from behind the large mirror caused Goren and Eames to stand and gather up papers.

"Thanks Jerry," Goren said. "We'll be right back."

In the viewing room, Goren handed the autopsy report to Deakins.

"Guitar strings," Goren said. "The six ligature marks, all different sizes… He was strangled with the strings from the Fender."

ADA Carver spoke up. "So Jerry Barone is no longer a suspect?"

Goren looked through the glass at the little man. "I don't see it. He genuinely cares for Sutiani."

"Who then?" Deakins asked. "The wife?"

"She has an alibi," Eames answered. "Locked up tight in her high-security home."

Goren cocked his head. "The only people I can see having a viable motive are the kids in the band."

"Who, as I understand it, all have alibis as well," Carver answered. "Detectives…"

"Why don't we find the murder weapon," Goren said. "Maybe that will give us some answers."

Office of the Medical Examiner

Monday, March 14, 2005

"After you called I had a search team go through the dumpsters behind the club," ME Warner explained, leading the detectives to a table with some sort of mass piled on top of it. "They found it at the bottom. It's been waiting for you since Friday night. A Tie-Dye Strat HS, hippie blue with a polyurethane finish, complete with Aerosmith autographs."

They arrived at the table and stared down at the once guitar. It was in pieces. Someone had really given it a beating. The strings lay in straight lines next to the heap.

"This is definitely your murder weapon," Warner continued. "I found DNA on the strings and compared it to Sutiani's. They matched. The strings fit perfectly in the impression on his neck."

"Did you get any prints?" Eames asked.

"Oh did I," Warner answered. "Every person who walked into that office probably touched the guitar. Only one got a hit. Right forefinger of Eric Bigelow. Know him?"

"Yeah, we know him," Eames confirmed.

Major Case Squad

Interrogation Room A

Monday, March 14, 2005

"Why are you guys stuck on me?" Eric paced angrily around the interrogation room. "I told you what happened! I left when Jerry walked in! Didn't you check with my credit card?"

"We did," Eames said, matter of fact. "But we still have a problem. Your fingerprint came up on the murder weapon."

"What murder weapon?" Eric exploded.

"The Fender Strat you ripped the strings off of and used to strangle Joey Sutiani," Goren answered.

"The-The Strat? The tie-dye one? No way! Look, everyone…everyone who goes into that office touches that thing. It's like the holy grail!"

"No, see, you're the only one who touched it who has a criminal record," Eames said. "A few possessions, burglary…"

"No, I told you guys, I'm straight! I went to rehab last year! I've been out and clean for six months!"

"Money's tight now," Goren said. "Maybe you needed a fix…"

"No!" Eric said firmly. "I didn't." Eric paced around some more, grabbing hair and muttering to himself. He looked back up at the detectives. "I want a lawyer," he said. He pulled a chair out and sat down.

Goren and Eames walked out of the interrogation room to be met by Deakins.

"Still suspect number one?" he asked.

Goren shrugged and gave a look that said 'square one.'

"There's a young woman here to see you two about Mr. Bigelow," Deakins said in response. He pointed to one of the visiting rooms across the squad where a young dark-haired woman sat waiting. Even from there the detectives could tell it was Alexis Mitchell.

Alexis sat in the glass room anxiously bouncing her leg and chewing her thumbnail. Sure, she'd come in without an appointment, but how long could it possibly take to find the two detectives? She'd been told they were both here. She thought about finding someone to complain to until she looked at her watch and realized it had only been seven minutes and then felt completely foolish. Finally, the glass door opened, causing the blinds to swing around, and Goren and Eames walked in, Goren closing the door behind them.

Alexis jumped from her chair, words spilling out of her mouth at once. "This is totally unfair! Why are you harassing Eric? He didn't do anything! Didn't you check his credit card? He wouldn't hurt a fly! We've got serious record labels looking at us. We should be thanking Sutiani, not killing him!"

"Ms. Mitchell, please have a seat," Goren said, holding his hand out to the chair that had almost toppled over in Alexis' verbal attack.

Alexis sat down again, obviously frustrated. "Eric didn't do it. What do we need to do to prove that to you?" She looked from Goren to Eames as they took seats across the table from her. She was being genuine, as far as Goren could tell.

"Well, the evidence is telling us that he did do it," Goren said.

Alexis shook her head. "What evidence? DNA? Fingerprints? What?"

"We can't discuss-"

"Oh, don't feed me that bullshit," Alexis interrupted. "You got nothing."

Goren cocked his head.

Eames decided to take over. "Eric is the only suspect that came up with a recent criminal record," she said. "Criminals tend to repeat themselves."

"Eric is not a criminal!" Alexis insisted vehemently. "He had problems, yeah, but had is the key word here. He hasn't been arrested since last year. He got into rehab and he's been clean ever since. What did your records show? Because as I recall, he was never arrested for a violent crime. They were all possession busts, except a burglary, and that-" Alexis sat back in her chair, catching her breath. "That wasn't even really a burglary as much as a misunderstanding."

"Well, who in your band makes a better suspect than Eric?" Goren asked. "Because, right now? He's the best one we've got."
"Why does it have to have been anyone in my band?"

Goren shrugged. "Give us someone better," he said.

"Sutiani and his assistant were fuck-buddies, why don't you try him? He was going through a divorce, you could try his wife." Alexis stood, ready to leave. "Although, I know you're not getting investigation tips from a college junior. I'm telling you, you got the wrong guy."

Goren stood and opened the door. "We'll keep that in mind," he said. He waved an officer over. "The officer will show you out."

He closed the door behind her and turned to Eames.

"She really thinks he didn't do it," Eames said.

Goren nodded. "I don't think he did… But they know who did. At least, she does."

Alexis wiped her eyes before the tears fell as she stepped out into the sunlight. Eric had been through so much in his life and he had just finally started to get things together. She couldn't let those cops destroy all that progress, especially for something he didn't do.

She headed toward the corner of Centre and Chambers Street and waited for the walk signal. She normally loved walking around downtown, looking at the old architecture, walking through City Hall Park, grabbing a bite at the McDonald's a couple blocks down on Broadway. Today all she wanted to do was hop a train back to Long Island and sleep the rest of the day away.

As she crossed Centre Street, she felt a vibration from her jacket pocket and pulled her phone out, fumbling a little as she tried to open it. She realized she was really shaken.

"Hello?"

"Lex! It's Justin! Guess who just called?"

"I don't know, who?"

"Arista!"

Alexis stopped in the middle of the sidewalk in front of City Hall, absently staring at the digital screens on the stairs that featured a man on one and a woman on the other, both walking in place. "Get out."

"I'm serious! They said they called you but you didn't answer so then they called me! They're signing us! They want us in as soon as possible! I'm on the shuttle on my way to the LIRR now!"

Alexis' heart jumped, but almost immediately her stomach dropped. "The cops aren't letting Eric go," she said numbly. She began walking again. "They say there's too much evidence against him."

"Relax, Lex, he'll be fine."

"I hope you're happy, Justin." Alexis pulled the phone away from her ear and closed it, heading down the stairs of the City Hall subway station.