Disclaimer: You know the routine. I don't own the show or the characters and I also don't know why we do these disclaimers. But hey! If it makes lawyers happy then okay, sure. It's just a waste of two minutes of your life and mine.
However, I do own the original characters and basic idea created and used herein this story. So yay for that.
This is going to be your standard SVU fare, therefore there's no foreseeable relationship stuff between the detectives of the unit in the future of this fic. Chapters will generally be one scene long, unless the scene is really short. All comments, suggestions and corrections are most welcome (if you give me a lot of those, more reviews, right? XD). I don't live in New York so I dunno if there's an actual abbey there. But, humor me about that, okay? Also, I have no idea of the mechanics of abbeys and nuns and stuff 'cept by what I've seen in The Sound of Music so, forgive me about any errors I might make.
The title of this fic was inspired by the Acid Bath song Scream of the Butterfly. Just kinda replaced the last word of the title. o.o;; Yup.
And lastly, I have a livejournal (link's on my profile) that I keep updated on how my progress on my fics is going. Check it out if you ever want to know what I'm up to and when the next update will be.
[ Sisters of the Savior Abbey
Sunday, July 18th ]
"What do you got?" Elliot Stabler asked the medical examiner as he and his partner, Olivia Benson, arrived on the scene.
"Time of death looks like after midnight but no later than three and from my cursory examination, what killed her is pretty much what it looks like," Warner answered, sighing as she stared at the disfigured body in front of them. She pulled her plastic gloves off her hands and they snapped loudly. "After he tied her to the bed, he made an incision under her rib cage here," Warner gestured across her own belly to illustrate, "then reached in and up, grabbed hold of the heart with one hand and with the other, which was still holding the knife, severed the major arteries and pulled it out." Warner looked firmly at Olivia who was grimacing. "Hold onto your breakfast, detective. It gets worse.
"After he was done with that, he took a small electric saw and cut out portions of her lower rib cage. He then used those pieces to nail her to the bed in a position indicative of crucifixion. This, however, is where it gets interesting." She turned back to the bed and pointed to the body's unharmed hands. "He put the rib pieces through her lower arms, between the radius and the ulna."
"Wait! But that's not how it went," Elliot protested. "Jesus was crucified through his palms."
Warner shook her head. "Actually, it's been proved that if someone was crucified that way, the palms could not support the body's weight. This way," she gestured toward the rib piece through the area under the wrist, "was how it was done. Using nails instead, of course." She smiled grimly. "The only reason the Church continues to portray Jesus being crucified through the palms is because it's an almost impossible task to change hundreds of years of tradition."
"What about that?" Olivia pointed to a phrase written on the wall above the dead nun's bed. "Is it written in the victim's blood?"
Warner nodded. "We're pretty sure it is."
"'If thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee'," Olivia murmured, reading the words aloud. "What's that from? The Bible?"
"Yup, and here's the victim's, open to that exact page. The Book of Matthew, chapter five, verse twenty-nine: 'And if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell.' King James Version." Elliot handed it to a man with CSU. "Have that dusted for prints."
"You think he was referring to her heart?" Olivia asked.
"Makes sense," Elliot turned back to face Warner. "Anything else?"
"We're gonna run a tox screen on the victim. Just in case. I think she was probably drugged because neither of the sisters sleeping to either side of her room heard anything. And on the subject of that heart, the perp took it with him."
Olivia looked troubled. "SVU was called on this but from what you've described so far, there's nothing that calls for our presence."
Warner grimaced. "Well, it seems your perp had a fetish for the dead."
"A necrophiliac? Oh, that's just beautiful." Olivia and Elliot's faces reflected their disgust.
"Yup. Have fun." Warner smiled, taking the bite out of the verbal irony.
"Right," Elliot nodded and then moved toward the door, saying to Olivia, "Let's go talk to the woman who found the victim."
Olivia followed him out. "This is insane. Who would want to kill a nun?"
"I have no idea," Elliot replied honestly. They walked silently down the cloister hall, passing doors leading to the living quarters of other nuns on their way to the Mother Superior's private office.
They arrived in the waiting room to find an older woman sitting on a couch, drying her wet eyes with a tissue. "Sister Margaret?" Olivia asked, looking inquiringly at the woman.
The sister looked up and smoothed out her habit with unsteady hands as she replied, "Yes, that's me."
"I'm Detective Benson and this is my partner, Detective Stabler. Is it all right if we ask you a few questions?"
"Oh, it's quite all right. Please sit down." Olivia took the offered seat but Elliot remained standing.
"About what time did you discover the body?"
"8:07 exactly. I remember looking at my watch."
"Do you know anyone who would want to hurt Sister Abigail?" Elliot asked in a gentle tone.
"I don't. Who would want to hurt any of us sisters?" Sister Margaret asked with tears in her eyes, unknowingly echoing Olivia's own question. "We clothe the poor, take care of the sick, and feed the hungry. We think of only others and harm no one. Especially Sister Abigail. She was still young, only twenty-three, and filled with all the exuberance accompanying such an age. Everyone loved her. At least, we thought they did…"
Olivia stood up from where she had been sitting as Elliot added, "Well, if you do think of anyone, Sister, be sure to give us a call, okay?" He handed her a card with their number on it.
Sister Margaret nodded and picked up another tissue, gently wiping her eyes with it. "Do not worry, detectives," she said with a quiet authority. "Even if you do not catch whoever did this horrible deed, he cannot hide from the Lord our God. This man will pay for his crimes in the end."
"Amen," a strong voice exclaimed from behind Olivia and Elliot. They turned to face a short woman, round but with a bullish look to her. Elliot studied the woman while she returned the look, the crow's feet at the corner of her eyes bunching tightly as she scrutinized the two detectives.
"You are?" Elliot asked the question although he already had figured out the answer.
"The Mother Superior, Caitlin Bates. And you?" She had an air of command around her that was almost electric and a face that promised dire consequences should anyone challenge her authority.
"Detectives Stabler and Benson. We're here investigating the murder of one of your sisters."
"Ah, yes. Come." She turned and walked into her office. Olivia looked to Elliot and said with a shrug, Why not? They followed after her quickly.
Her office was Spartan, the only decoration on the wall being a large crucifix with Jesus hanging from it and a painting of the same individual surrounded by a group of little children.
"Sit." The Mother Superior was already seated behind a large desk and Olivia and Elliot quickly made themselves comfortable in two plush seats in front of the desk... or at least tried to. Although the chairs looked extremely soft and agreeable, Olivia discovered that there was no position short of standing up that did not leave one unpleasantly placed. Elliot ignored this fact immediately and focused on the figure behind the desk. It took a moment before Olivia noticed hidden amusement dwelling in the Mother Superior's steely eyes and figured the chairs had been bought because of that reason. She immediately stopped fidgeting, refusing to show her discomfort for the crotchety old woman.
She debated for a moment whether to address the woman by her title or as "Ms. Bates" and decided to go with the title just to be safe. "Mother Superior, can you think of anyone who would have wanted to harm Sister Abigail?"
The woman looked at them, her expression almost mocking. "Of course not."
Olivia gritted her teeth at the woman's condescending tone. "Is there anything you can tell us to help us with our investigation?"
"Yes, actually. I thought that since you are most likely going to concentrate your suspicions on our male staff, it would be wise for you to know that our grounds are open to the public. I believe that expands your suspect pool somewhat." The Mother Superior smiled thinly.
Yeah, to just about all of New York, Olivia thought, irritated. "Thank you for telling us that. We appreciate any and all information concerning this case."
The woman nodded. "Of course."
"Speaking of your staff, we're going to need a list of their names, phone numbers, and addresses," Elliot said.
"I anticipated this." The Mother Superior picked up small packet of paper off her desk and handed it to him. "I believe you will find the information you need there."
"Thanks." Elliot stood up and exited the office, Olivia following him.
"Well, she was really helpful," Olivia murmured with more than a little spite.
"She's just disconcerted because of the way Sister Abigail died. She probably wants to get this over with as quickly as possible."
Olivia sighed, imagining the investigation ahead. "Don't we all."