Disclaimer: I didn't own them yesterday. I don't own them today. I probably won't own them tomorrow.
CHAPTER FOUR
DOINK-DOINK
"Thomas Mayhew?"
Olivia waited before pounding on the door again. There was the sound of a lock being turned and the door opened slowly. An older man gazed warily back at them.
"Are you Thomas Mayhew?" asked Olivia.
"No," said the man. "I am Georges Dozier."
Dozier's accent was thick and guttural. He seemed unnerved at having two strangers at his door.
"Mr. Dozier, we're police officers. Could we come in and talk to you?"
"I did nothing."
"Sir, you're not a suspect. We just need to ask you a few questions," said Elliot.
"Repeat, please?"
"Sir, do you need a translator?" asked Olivia slowly and clearly.
"Translator, yes. French," said Dozier. He shut the door.
Elliot was almost amused. He pulled his cell and dialed Munch.
"Hey, Munch, it's Elliot. You speak French?"
"No…sorry," said Munch, sounding slightly confused. "Hey, Fin, know any French?"
"Bonjour and au revoir," Elliot heard Fin say.
"I speak French," came a female voice.
"Who's that?" asked Elliot.
"Caroline Schmidt," said Munch. "I'll let you talk to her."
A pause, a shuffle, and Caroline's voice sounded once again over the phone.
"Hello? Detective Stabler?"
"Yeah, hi. You speak French?"
'I do. Enough to help, I think."
"Fine," said Elliot.
He gave Caroline the address and she relayed it to Munch. She arrived fifteen minutes later, flanked by Munch and Fin.
"What's the situation?" she asked.
"Man's name is Georges Dozier. He won't talk to us without a translator," Olivia explained.
"Suspect?"
"We're not sure," said Elliot. "We found the card of a Thomas Mayhew at the crime scene. Social worker. This address was written on the back of it."
"Okay. I'll check it out," said Caroline. She smoothed her braid and knocked on the door. "Monsieur Dozier, ouvrez la porte, s'il-vous plait!"
Dozier opened the door and allowed the detectives – all five of them – to enter. The house was very cold and decorated in whites and creams. A large and beautiful painting was leaning against the wall. Caroline began chattering away at Dozier in what sounded like perfect French. Ten minutes later, she was shaking his hand and leading the others out the door.
"What did he say, who's Thomas Mayhew, and where did you learn French?" asked Elliot.
"Thomas Mayhew is an unknown. The only person he's seen since yesterday was an Elena Monceau. She delivered a painting to his house. And my mother spoke French," Caroline relayed. "I got Monceau's address and number. She speaks English fluently."
"Let's go," said Olivia.
"Yeah, we should, in case she's involved and Dozier tips her off," said Caroline.
"We don't need more than two of us, but if she starts raving in French, we'll give you a call," said Olivia.
Caroline looked slightly deflated. "Okay. Let me know if there's anything I can do."
"We will," said Elliot as he and Olivia left.
Munch led the way back to the car. No one spoke. Even though Munch felt less than friendly towards the newcomer, he still thought Olivia had touched a nerve somewhere. Caroline seemed decent and she had already proven herself to be at least capable at investigation. He had just opened the car door for her – just as a gesture of kindness – when she jerked it out of his hands.
"I can do it myself," she said quietly.
