Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. The only things I own are the original characters – Ricky, Craig and Alison at the moment; more to come!
Author's Note: A huge thankyou to all my reviewers!! I really appreciate your kind words, encouragement, and advice :-)
This chapter contains spoilers for the Season 1 episodes 'Pilot', and 'Birthday Boy'. I know you've probably all seen these, but I gotta say it!
CHAPTER 3
"Do you want a drink, or something?" Danny asked.
Martin didn't respond; staring absently into space.
Danny sighed. Martin had been out of it for the entire evening. "Martin?"
"What?" He said, looking up. "Oh … sorry."
Danny smiled. "You want a drink?"
"Uh … no thanks." He rubbed at his head furiously as Danny sat on the couch opposite him. "Sorry … guess I'm not being great company, huh …"
"Guess you got a few things on your mind," Danny replied.
Martin grinned. "You could say that."
"You want to talk about it?"
"No … not worth it." His eyes fell.
Danny frowned. "I think it is worth it," he said. "Off the record. Whatever you feel like talking about. I just think you need to talk."
"Danny the psychiatrist, huh?" There was a slight mocking edge to Martin's voice.
Danny raised his hands defensively. "Hey, just trying to help."
Martin sighed. "I know. I'm sorry." He stopped, running his hands through his hair. Danny waited, knowing that Martin was about to start talking.
"I just thought this was over … I thought it was gone – six years ago." He shook his head. "Of all the cases to land on my desk … I had to get the one of my ex-best friend who thinks I betrayed him, didn't I?" he finished sarcastically.
Danny realised that he was going to have to force the matter. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"
"What?" Martin looked up, distracted, and Danny saw the shutters come down. The moment was gone. "No … I'm fine, thanks Danny," Martin said, getting up. "I think I might go to bed now, if that's OK. I'm really tired."
Danny nodded. "You can have the spare room, if you like." He followed Martin in. "You know," he said conversationally, "you're going to have to talk about it. To me, or to Jack. Your choice. Only I don't think he'll be very – understanding if keep up this 'I'm not going to talk about it' attitude."
Martin straightened, and glared at Danny. "Don't you dare …"
"Hey!" Danny said, "someone had to tell you. I'm just the messanger, buddy."
"No you're not," Martin said coldly, "so don't you dare try to pull that one."
"I'm just trying to help, for God's sake," Danny said, beginning to feel angry.
"Then get out!" Martin yelled. Without warning, he lashed out, landing a solid blow on Danny, sending the agent flying backwards into the wall. Danny slumped to the ground, stunned by the force of the impact.
Martin's head cleared, and he stared in horror. "Shit! Danny – are you OK?" He rushed over to his friend, kneeling down beside him. "Danny? Can you hear me? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
Danny's eyes opened. "You know, partner," he said weakly, "you pack a fair punch. You workout?"
Martin grinned a little, partially from relief. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine," Danny replied with a grimace. "Just bruised."
Martin felt a stab of guilt. "I'm sorry, Danny."
"You feel better now?"
The question came out of left field for Martin, and he stared at Danny. "What?"
"You needed to do that," Danny explained, groaning a little as Martin helped him to his feet. Martin quickly checked him over for broken bones. "I'm fine," he repeated. "Could do with a drink though."
Martin helped him out to the kitchen, and got them both a drink. "What did you mean, I needed to do that?" he asked, almost angrily.
Danny shook his head. "I've seen it before. You needed to release it – let it go. Wasn't doing any good sitting inside you, was it?" He shook his head. "Danny the psychiatrist indeed."
Martin laughed, then sobered quickly. "I'm sorry."
"Man, will you quit saying that?" Danny exclaimed. "I know you're sorry." He grinned as an idea occurred to him. "OK Martin. I accept your apology. You are forgiven. There. All over."
"Thanks …" Martin shook his head again, as feelings of guilt and frustration again washed over him.
"Uh-oh," Danny groaned. "What now?"
"I'm –"
"Sorry, I know," Danny said wryly. "What else?"
Martin grinned ruefully. "Nothing …"
"Oh no you don't," Danny exclaimed. "If I'm going to get thrown against the wall, I think I deserve to know what's made you so angry. Spill."
Martin shook his head. "How can I resist?" He paused, and seemed unsure of how to start.
"Start with when you met Ricky," Danny suggested.
Martin nodded. "OK … I met him at a computers class when we were both seventeen. We became friends quickly. You know how sometimes you meet someone, and you just know that you're going to be friends easily? We were like that. Within weeks we were best mates. Hung out together all the time … he was really into computers. Used to spend hours on the damn things." He laughed. "Except when he was watching soccer, of course." He drained the rest of his glass, and refilled it. Danny frowned slightly.
"Don't have too much in one go, there, man," he said easily. "Don't want to turn up with a hangover tomorrow."
Martin rolled his eyes, and drained the glass. "Who are you, my mother?"
Danny took the glass from his hands, and put it on the sink out of Martin's reach. "So what happened next?"
Martin frowned a little, but continued the story. "We went to college … we stayed in touch, of course. I went to work in the FBI, while he was still playing around on computers. He told me he and a friend – Craig Styles – had established a small software company, and they were working on patches for Microsoft. Well … about a year later, I got the shock of my life. I was known as a computer expert, and seeing as all the techs were busy, I was asked to take a quick look at a computer. I started it up and began looking around when I recognised some of the files. There were a collection of photos of Ricky's favourite soccer team, some of us with a few mates on holiday in California." He sighed, and ran his hands through his hair. "Apparently whoever asked me to check the computer didn't know that I was a friend of Ricky's. I asked them the name of the owner of the computer, and he told me – 'Ricky Hunter'.
"Once they realised that I knew him, they instantly banned me from touching the computer. They started doubting me … It's true, the Sun virus was pretty sophisticated, and I was known to be good at all things computers … I tell you, I had a hard time convincing the agents that I wasn't a part of the conspiracy. I had heard of the Sun virus, of course. In fact, my sister's computer was infected by it. I spent twelve hours being interrogated by various agents … after that they were finally convinced that I had had nothing to do with the virus …
"They let me visit Ricky – I was told I could visit him more than once, but … after the debacle that was our first meeting, I wasn't going back. He called me a traitor, and accused me of setting him up and delibrately maintaining our friendship so as to get him arrested. I said some things back that … well, I'm not proud of them. I think we pretty well said everything that day."
"How did he get caught?"
"Craig's girlfriend was a part-time thief. She was caught, and they raided his home. Craig was out at the time, but his neighbour said he was probably at Ricky's. On his computer they found a few traces of the virus, and putting that together with some things the girlfriend had said, they began to wonder if Craig wasn't connected with the virus. They went to Ricky's house; he was out but Craig was there. They accused him of writing the virus and – to their surprise – he said he'd had a part in it, but blamed most of it on Ricky. He was offered a lenient punishment if he spilt the beans on Ricky. He didn't think twice to blame everything on Ricky. Everything had been done from Ricky's home, not Craig's, so it was all there on Ricky's computer. By the time Craig had finished, the trial was a virtual formality. Craig got off with six month's of weekend detention and a five year good behaviour bond. After the six months, he upped and left with Ricky's girlfriend." He made another reach for the glass, but Danny pushed it away.
"What then?"
"What then? Nothing then," Martin shrugged. "Haven't seen Ricky since he went into jail."
"So … did Ricky write the code? Or was it Craig?"
"Mostly Craig, I think. But they did it at Ricky's house, and both Craig, and Ricky's girlfriend testified against him, so … he didn't have a chance, really. The judge didn't impose the maximum sentence because Ricky was a young man, with no previous offences, and from a 'troubled background'. He figured that it wasn't exactly Ricky's fault he'd got into this kind of world." He cleared his throat. "My testimony helped too."
"Your testimony?" Danny exclaimed.
"Yeah. The defence lawyer asked me to testify about Ricky's character."
"What did you say?" Danny asked, realising he would have to force this bit out of Martin.
"What I knew. I said that Ricky was a good guy, a great friend, who had probably just fallen into the wrong company or got the wrong ideas at some point. I said he wasn't a danger." He shrugged. "I said what I knew."
"I thought you two had parted on bad terms."
"Doesn't mean I wanted him behind bars for most of his life," Martin retorted. Danny sensed Martin's anger level rising again. "I'm loyal," Martin said, with a brittle laugh. "No matter what, I didn't want him behind bars for twenty five years, did I?"
"OK, Martin, OK," Danny said, backing away slightly.
Martin noticed, and half-smiled. "What's the matter? Afraid I'll hit you again?"
"There's only so many hits Danny the psychiatrist is prepared to take," Danny said, grinning, and to his relief, Martin smiled too, and relaxed. "You OK now?" Danny asked.
Martin smiled. "Yeah … thanks, Danny. Guess you were right; I did need to talk."
Danny nodded. "Any time." He turned to go. "I'll let you sleep."
"Oh, Danny," Martin said. Danny paused in the doorway. "Sorry about the hit."
Danny laughed. "Don't worry about it. You owe me one."
"Yeah …" He turned away.
Danny closed the door, and walked out to the lounge room. He threw himself down on the sofa, wincing as his back protested. Remind me never to do that again, he thought ruefully.
He was startled by the noise of a phone ringing. "Martin! Your phone," he called, walking towards the bedroom with the phone. Martin appeared, wearing light blue pyjama pants, and took the phone.
"Thanks," he mumbled, and flipped the phone open. "Excuse me." He walked back into his room, and Danny faintly heard him say, "Yeah …"
He couldn't hear any more of the conversation, and let it be. About five minutes later, his own phone rang. He answered, and wasn't surprised to hear Jack.
"How's Martin been?"
Danny decided not to mention the punch. "Fine," he replied. "He talked about it a bit, and I think he's feeling better now."
"Keep an eye on him," Jack ordered.
Danny sighed. "What are you afraid of, Jack? Think he's going to run? Go after the kidnappers on his own?"
"Remember his early exploits? Walking into the Bartholomew Higgins' home, alone, unarmed, and with no backup, looking for Maggie Cartwright? Knocking Darren Oaks into the lake a few days later?"
Danny grimaced. "I see what you mean. He can be a loose cannon, can't he?"
"This isn't a joke, Danny. The last thing we need is Martin going vigilante on us, and possibly disappearing himself. The only reason he's still on the case is that it's a way for us to keep an eye on him. There is something very strange going on here, and I can't shake the feeling that Martin's going to end up in the middle of it. When he does, I want us to be there for back-up."
"OK, Jack," Danny sighed. "I'll keep an eye on him." He put the phone down, and walked towards Martin's room. He knocked gently, but there was no reply. Slowly he opened the door.
Martin lay in the bed, asleep. Danny backed out quietly, but left the door open. He checked his watch – 10:30. Stifling a yawn, he headed off to bed. It had been a long night.
*********************************
"Morning, Martin," Danny said, shaking Martin into wakefulness. "Rise and shine!" He opened the curtins.
"You know," Martin growled, as his eyes struggled to adjust themselves to the sudden glare, "you really didn't have to open those damn curtins."
Danny laughed. "Not much of a morning person, are you? Come on, get up. You can have a shower if you like, and there's coffee if you need the caffeine."
"Caffeine sounds great," Martin muttered, dragging himself out of bed.
"I think you need it. How's your head?"
"Sore," Martin groaned.
Danny laughed. "Well you did down a few last night." He helped Martin to his feet. "Come on; time to get moving."
He showed Martin to the bathroom, then went back to the kitchen. By the time Martin emerged about ten minutes later, Danny had a cup of coffee waiting on the sink. "How do you feel now?" he asked, after Martin drank about half the cup.
Martin paused to think. "Worse," he concluded. Danny placed a glass down in front of him. Martin gazed at it suspiciously. "What's this?"
"Taylor's Cure for Hangovers," Danny annouced with a smile.
"What's in it?"
Danny paused to think. "You don't want to know. Just drink it," he ordered. Martin shot him a suspicious look, but drank it anyway. "Better sit down," Danny advised. "That stuff's strong."
Martin nodded, and sat down heavily on a bar stool. He finished the drink. Danny looked expectantly at him. "You know," Martin began slowly, "I think I feel a little better."
Danny laughed, and clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, we're leaving in five."
*********************************
They arrived at work five minutes early, to be greeted by Viv, who was working through Ricky's phone records. Sam – sitting at her desk – called, "Danny – could you give me a hand with these? I'm going through the bank statements, but I need you to go through the visitor's log from the jail."
"Sure," Danny said, taking the files from her and sitting at his desk. "Martin …"
"I'll try that phone number again," he concluded. "Where's Jack?"
"Going through surveillence photos," Viv answered. "He's been in there for an hour. He's about to explode."
"What surveillence photos?" Martin asked.
"From outside your apartment," Viv told him.
Martin looked down. "Oh."
"He's already had me in there, seeing if I recognise anyone. I don't doubt he'll get the three of you in there too at some point." She grimaced. "Have fun."
Danny grinned. "Thanks."
Martin looked up as a tired Jack entered. "Martin – can you wait in my office? I'll be there in a minute."
Martin nodded, and made his way out of the room. Jack turned to Danny. "What did Martin say last night?"
"He gave me a basic timeline from when he first met Ricky, to Ricky's imprisonment. The basic idea was that he had no idea what Ricky was up to, and they had a huge argument about it when Ricky was waiting to go on trial. Martin still testified in his favour though – gave him a character reference."
Jack nodded. "Thanks." He walked back to his office. "Martin?"
The young agent looked up as Jack entered.
"Could you look through these photos for me?"
"Sure. What am I looking for?"
"These are the surveillence photos taken by the police officers who watched your house last night. I want you to pick out as many of the residents as you can."
Martin shrugged. "OK. But – I don't know all the residents, you know."
Jack nodded. "That's fine. Just pick out as many as you can."
Martin bent his head over the photos, and began setting aside those he recognised as being of his co-residents. Jack watched, gauging his reactions to each photo. After about five minutes, Martin finished. He had set aside about fifteen photos out of the thirty.
"There's another five or six I'm not positive about," he explained, handing a bundle of photos to Jack. "These are the ones I'm certain about."
"Great, thanks. Can you separate the ones you aren't certain about too?"
Martin quickly went through the remaining fifteen photos, pausing over some of them, before coming up with six photos that he handed to Jack.
"Right," Jack said, "we'll run this other lot first." He gestured to the third pile. "Can you …"
"Sure." Martin left quickly with the collection of photos.
*********************************
"What have you got?" Jack asked, as he reviewed the – rather incomplete – timeline.
"Nothing unusual in the bank records," Sam answered. "No large deposits or withdrawals. No periodic withdrawals. They agree with what Alison told us."
"Most of his visits were from his girlfriend, Alison Ward," Danny said, as Jack looked at him. "A few visits from his lawyers, and one visit from a Steven Barker, a month before Ricky was released."
"Suspicious?" Martin asked.
"A little. Steven Barker runs a computer store on 5th Avenue."
"But … Ricky isn't allowed to touch a computer – not for another eight years," Martin protested.
"Well, it's a lead. Sam, Danny, I'll get you to chase it down. Martin – anything from the photos?"
"Nothing – wait." He turned back to the screen. "Something's come up. Alan Mortis. Did ten years for armed robbery, at …" He smiled. "Well would you look at that," he exclaimed. "He was at Ricky's prison. Got out two weeks ago." He turned to Jack. "Back to the prison, I take it?"
"What's his address?"
"Living with a friend, in Brooklyn."
"OK. Viv?"
"Only one strange thing – a call he got after a week after he got out. From Martin Fitzgerald."
Four sets of eyes turned to Martin accusingly. He got to his feet. "I didn't talk to him," he said defensively. "I talked to Alison. The call only lasted about thirty seconds. I asked to talk to Ricky, she asked for my name. I told her, and she disappeared for a few seconds. Then she said Ricky didn't want to talk to me. I gave her my cell phone number in case he changed his mind. End of story." He looked angrily at Jack.
"Why did you want to talk to him?" Danny asked.
"To make sure he was OK … Hell, we were best mates. You don't just walk away from a friendship like that, OK?" He glared at them again. "What are you accusing me of?"
Jack glared back. "Martin, I am sick of having to drag information out of you. This is an investigation, with the possibility of a man's life at stake here. If I have to force information from you one more time, you will be suspended, and will be able to count yourself very lucky if I don't charge you with impeding a federal investigation. Understand?"
Martin's mouth was set in an angry line. Danny watched him, thinking, Please don't do anything stupid, Martin. Please …
His silent prayer was answered as Martin said, "Yes Jack."
Jack nodded grimly. "Right. Change of plans. Danny and Martin, check Martin's apartment for any signs of intruders. Then, go and question this Steven Barker. Sam, you're with me. We're going back to the prison, then out to Brooklyn to visit Alan Mortis. Viv – I want you at Alison Ward's. Ask her about Alan Mortis and Steven Barker. Find out as much as you can about Ricky's friends, and his prison life. Clock's ticking; let's move."
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Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review on your way to the door …
