Disclaimer: Only $999,985 more until I own John Munch…but until then, I don't own anything from SVU.
Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to the individual who requested Catherine Schmidt's entrance
CHAPTER SIX
DOINK-DOINK
"Well, we've narrowed down the suspect pool from 467 to 129," said Elliot.
"Oh, great. That should make it so much easier," said Munch dryly.
"You started it."
"Got a partial print from that piece of plastic found at the crime scene. No matches, but we'll keep trying," said Fin.
"Has anyone bothered to interview the employees at the hall?" asked Cragen, chewing a piece of licorice ponderingly.
"Olivia and I are on it," said Elliot. "As soon as she's back from court."
"Talk to Phillip Cornell, too. He had a sort of reception afterwards, didn't he? Maybe he saw something."
"No problem."
"Caroline?"
Caroline, who had been at her desk quietly, squinting over some paperwork, looked up when she heard her name. Standing there was a girl was a few inches taller than Caroline and thinner, but she had the same dark wavy hair (worn in a chin-length bob rather than braids), the same faint spattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and the same naturally rosy cheeks. Her eyes were more almond-shaped than Caroline's and instead of bright brown, they were a dark blue color. However, it was her clothes that attracted the eye more than anything. She wore baggy orange pants, a tight white wife beater that said "La Vie Bohéme", and a bright green jacket. Everyone exchanged glances as they realized that this had to be Caroline's sister.
"Hey!" said Caroline, hopping up and giving her a hug. "Everyone, this is my sister, Catherine. Catherine, this is Odafin Tutuola, or just Fin, Elliot Stabler, Don Cragen, and John Munch. Olivia Benson's in court today, but you'd love her."
"Hey," said Catherine, giving a little wave.
"Hi, Catherine," said Munch, shaking her hand, since he was closest. "How are you?"
"I'm good. Are you the conspiracy guy?" she said. Her voice was lower than her sister's and she seemed more laidback.
Munch smiled. "Yes, I am."
"Are you all JFK or are you more of an 'All Your Base' kind of guy?"
"JFK."
"And where do you stand on the 2000 election?"
"Never happened."
"UFOs?"
"Probably arrested a few."
"We'll get along fine," said Catherine, grinning widely. "Listen, Caroline, what time do you think you'll be home tonight?"
"I have no idea. Why?" said Caroline.
"I just have to get some more stuff, but if you'll be very late, I can get it myself."
"Okay. I'll call you. When's your interview?"
"In an hour."
"It's all the way across town. You'd better get going."
"Okay. Oh, did you get the thing?"
"What thing?"
"The thing. The thing I left…the thing…"
"Oh, yeah, the thing. Yeah, I got that."
"Okay. Well…I should be going. See you later. Nice meeting you all."
Catherine waved to everyone once more and left. Caroline turned back to everyone proudly.
"She seems nice," said Elliot.
"Isn't she wild?" said Caroline. "I only wish I could be as chill as her. I got the neuroses of our mother."
"You're fine," said Munch. "Now then…I've got an appointment I can't miss."
"Need a ride?" Caroline offered, holding up her keys. "I'm out, too. I'm talking to Maria today."
"Sure."
DOINK-DOINK
"So, what was the thing?" asked Munch once they'd gotten into Caroline's car.
"What do you mean?"
"The thing. You know, the thing that Catherine left for you."
"Cathy was just joking around," said Caroline evasively. "And you're being nosy."
"I'm just worried."
"Why?"
"You seem like something's wrong. I don't know, it's just…something. You're not yourself."
"You haven't known me long enough to determine what 'myself' is and what isn't."
"See, that right there. That's what I'm talking about. You're getting defensive."
"I'm not getting defensive."
"Yes, you are. Can't I just show concern for you without you freaking out?"
"I'm not freaking out and I'm not getting defensive!"
"If this is you not freaking out or getting defensive, then you're terrible at it."
"Shut up, Munch."
Munch shut up. He contented himself with looking out the window. Caroline flicked on the radio in a moody way and turned it to a talk station. Munch bristled when he heard the person being interviewed.
"So, Tobey, you're very adamant in your beliefs that sexual assault is something that shouldn't be addressed in public schools, aren't you?" said the radio host.
"Yes, Randall, I am. Public schools are already filled with enough troubles. School shootings, drug usage, sexual promiscuity, girls trying to dress like junior Paris Hiltons…talking about sexual assault only gives the boys ideas and gives the girls an excuse to cover up their own mistakes."
"What crack is this guy on?" said Caroline, turning the volume up. Munch wanted to smack her hand away and turn it off, but he resisted the urge.
"If a girl claims to be raped, she is almost always showing buyer's remorse. It's her own problem if she wants to strut around in a miniskirt and act like a little prostitute. If she regrets a decision she makes, that's her own problem. Women these days have been given too much power. The moment they say 'rape', the entire country comes to a screeching halt just to save them from a false enemy," Tobey Marks raved on.
"What sort of jackass says that?" said Caroline, outraged.
"That jackass," said Munch, pointing at her radio. "You haven't heard him yet?"
"No."
The radio host, Randall, was continuing. "Now, Tobey, you've received some negative press for some things you said about a teenage girl in Virginia who started her own foundation advocating victim's right. In one interview, you were quoted to have said, 'This young lady is only adding to the trouble. She says it's all right to sleep around and blame some innocent man for a false rape. If this is what our country is coming to, then people like her should be deported to wherever her mother came from'. They've said that's a very racist comment as well as an attack on a young girl who's trying to do good in the world. What's your response to that?"
"This should be good," said Caroline grimly.
"Well, Randall," said Tobey. "The young lady in question – I believe her name is Elizabeth Terri – is spending her time and energy promoting this organization. All she's done is shout and scream about how teenage girls get raped all the time and how nothing's being done in public schools about it. But we parents aren't sending our kids to school to learn about sex. We're sending them to get an education. They shouldn't waste their time listening to meaningless stories about some girl claiming to have been raped when they could use that time learning things they'll actually need. This Elizabeth girl is nothing but a troublemaking slut who's using this organization to hide her indiscretion."
"Bastard," Munch mumbled.
"You haven't answered the question of the racist nature of your comment," said Randall.
"It's not racist," said Tobey simply.
"But you did know that Elizabeth Terri is half black when you made the comment, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did. But that only goes to prove my point further. It's a known fact that black women –"
"Okay, that's enough," said Caroline, flipping off the radio in disgust before she could hear another word. "What went wrong in his childhood that makes him think it's okay to let kids be totally ignorant about rape? I mean, seriously! Women are being assaulted every day and he says they're making it up?"
"Caroline, calm down. When you're mad, you swerve," said Munch, eyeing the road.
"No, but does he think it's always made up? Does he think that every woman and tiny little child who's raped is lying? What sort of bastard says that?"
"That bastard!" said Munch, pointing to the radio again. "Tobey Marks is an idiot. Don't take him too seriously while you're driving. Once you park, feel free to scream at the top of your lungs."
"Sorry," said Caroline. "I'm just a little on edge."
"Yeah, I noticed. Ready to talk yet?"
Caroline started to say something, then stopped and took a left. They ended up right in the middle of a hellish gridlock.
"Perfect time to let it out," said Munch. "I'm all ears if you need me to be."
"I…I just…" Caroline trailed off.
She looked at Munch with eyes shining with tears that threatened to fall. Munch put a hand on her shoulder. Caroline sniffled and took a deep breath. Not looking at Munch, she started to speak quietly.
"There's nothing to talk about," she said simply, and she fell silent after that.
