St. Patrick's Hospital, 11th Avenue. Thursday, March 4th.

Fin stared at the tiled floor, with a cup of horrible tasting coffee in his hand. He knew he should really get back the precinct, but he felt responsible for making sure Karen was okay. The only time Fin ever let a case get personal was if someone used drugs or sold drugs. Karen had no record of drug abuse, so why was he letting her case get personal?

Hannah stormed by him, and walked in Karen's room before Fin could stop her. She didn't shut the door all the way, so Fin eavesdropped from outside the room.

Karen was asleep when Hannah walked in. Hannah threw her purse at Karen and said, "Get up."

Karen woke with a jolt as the purse hit her. She glanced around the room hurriedly and let out a sigh of relief when she recognized Hannah. "Jesus Hannah, somehow I knew Lucifer's angel would be you."

"How can you do this? Do you know what Ron is going through?" Hannah asked frustrated.

Karen shrugged. "Is he going through menopause?" she asked innocently.

"What are you talking about?" Hannah asked, confused.

"What are you talking about?" Karen asked.

"Ron and the hell the police are putting him through," Hannah told Karen.

"What's going on?" Karen asked.

"Like you don't know?"

"No, I don't Hannah, I've been here!" Karen told her, her voice cracking.

"They arrested him. They think Ron tried to kill you," Hannah told her.

Karen stared at her, wide eyed. "I'm sorry, Hannah. Ron didn't do this and I'll testify to that in court."

"Why?"

"The same reason it was eleven years ago," Karen told her. "Only this time, I let it get out of hand."

"It just happened is a reason for a kiss, not sex," Hannah spat.

"I'm sorry, Hannah, but if I find out you are taking your anger out on Krystal instead of me, I will be the one visiting you in the hospital," Karen warned her.

Hannah shook her head in disbelief. "Can you ever give a normal apology?"

"No, but I am sorry," Karen told her.

"Just stay away from Ron," Hannah warned as she turned on her heel and stormed off.

Karen nodded and whispered, "I have no intention to ever see him again."

As Hannah stalked down the hospital corridor, Fin's cell phone rang. "Tutuola."

"I'll be right there," Fin said.

Fin walked into the squad room to find that Cragen, Casey, Olivia and Elliot were waiting for him. Cragen looked up at him and said, "Well Detective Tutuola, we're so pleased you could stop by and take time out of your busy schedule."

Fin nodded and sat down at his desk. Olivia stared at him and asked, "Where's Munch?"

"On special assignment," Cragen explained. He turned to Casey and asked, "How did the arraignment go?"

"Fine, bail was set at five hundred thousand dollars," Casey said. "I do have a question about your investigation."

"Shoot," Cragen told her.

"Did anyone question Jonathan Marcelo?" Casey asked.

"Munch and I did," Fin answered. "His alibi cleared, and there's no motive for him to kill her."

"Well except for the fact that his wife and Karen had a huge argument," Olivia reminded him.

"It was twelve years ago," Fin objected. "No one holds on to a grudge for that long and it was between his wife and Karen, not him."

"Why did you ask, Casey?"

"I figured the defense would bring him up after I witnessed that fight between Mrs. Weston and him, and I wanted to be prepared," Casey said.

"Can I say something?" Elliot asked.

"Go right ahead Elliot," Cragen said.

"I've been checking out Marcelo's background and he's clean," Elliot said. Everyone stared at him, wondering where he was going with this. "But after talking with Karen's friend, I found out that people were scared of him. No one wanted to upset him, and anyone who did, if they were lucky, would end up in the hospital for the night. Another interesting tidbit, no one ever tried to press charges after they had a chat with Jonathan's father, Cletus."

"What exactly are you trying to get at?" Cragen asked.

"Just that Marcelo had the means if he wanted to attack Karen and then cover it up," Elliot clarified.

"You're beginning to sound like Munch," Olivia muttered.

"Maybe Munch finally has something," Elliot defended.

Cragen sighed and said, "All right, everyone call it a night. And for the last time, Jonathan Marcelo's alibi checks out."

As everyone started to leave, Fin lingered behind. "Captain, what if Ron somehow made bail and wants to make sure he doesn't leave any loose ends behind?" Fin asked.

Cragen gazed at Fin, bewildered. "You really think a reporter could make a five hundred thousand dollar bail?" Cragen asked.

Fin shrugged and said, "Never mind."

Cragen let out a desperate sigh and wondered why he let his detectives get this way. Then he asked, reluctantly, "Do you truly think she is in immediate danger from Ron?"

Fin thought about it and answered quietly, "No. Thanks anyway Capt."

As Fin headed towards the door, Cragen called after him, "Fin, try and get some rest. You look like a mess."

Fin had gone back to his apartment and fell into a restless sleep. He was awoken by a phone ring at nine till four.

"Tutuola, what the hell you want?" he asked grumpily into the phone, looking over at his clock and groaning.

"How about a friendly 'good morning'?" Munch asked on the other end. Fin knew he had a pompous grin on his face.

"Four AM is not morning, morning comes after the dawn," Fin told him. "What do you want, Munch?"

"I figured out how Marcelo got out of his apartment without going through the front lobby," Munch told him.

"Great, tell the press they have their headline for today. I'm going back to bed," Fin told him and hung up.

As Fin rested his head back on his pillow and drifted back to sleep, a terrorizing thought snapped in to total consciousness. Fin picked up the phone and dialed Munch.

"I knew you found my dazzling voice irresistible," Munch greeted Fin.

"What the hell do you mean you found something out about Marcelo?" Fin asked frantically.

"Exactly like I said."

"What was your bony ass doing investigating Marcelo?" Fin questioned.

"Well, Captain said take the day off, so I waited till midnight, because that was a start of a new day, when I started my investigation," Munch answered him.

"You're a crazy son of a bitch, you know that right?"

"So you want to hear what I got now or what?"

Fin sighed and asked, "Where are you now?"

"In the squad room," Munch answered him.

"I'll meet you there."

Munch was sitting on his desk, looking at paper in a folder. The squad room was practically deserted except for a couple of uniformed officers and Munch. Fin walked in and went straight for the coffee. Fin took a sip and quickly spit it back out. No one had made a fresh pot yet.

"Good morning sunshine," Munch greeted him. "And how are you this morning?"

"Wondering what was so important I had to come in three hours early," Fin snarled.

Munch gave him the folder and told him, "Look at this."

Fin grumbled and grabbed the folder. As Fin read the containments of the folder, he smiled and said to Munch, "You really are a crazy son of a bitch. Have you called the Captain yet?"

"He's on his way."

As soon as Donald Cragen entered the squad he was greeted by Munch and Fin saying, "Marcelo is lying."

"Ok, too early for you both to be talking," Cragen told him. "Munch, tell me why you called me so early."

"Okay, first off, Marcelo has an apartment with a balcony that is attached to a fire escape. I did some research and found that in his building they record if the doors out to the balcony are open," Munch explained, and handed Cragen his folder. "I checked with the lobby, and found out that Marcelo had his door open for a few hours during the night of March 2nd to the 3rd, and during that time Karen Barley was attack."

"Did it ever occur to you that his apartment was warm and he wanted to cool it off?" Cragen asked even though he didn't believe it.

"It was in the low forties that night, there no way he would have left it open for that long," Munch defended.

"He could have fallen asleep."

"Or tried to kill Karen Barley," Fin quipped.

"We have an unknown fingerprint, which probably would match with Marcelo and an ultra blond hair. Also, Marcelo did have those bruises on his face, he could have made up the excuse about being mugged," Munch chimed in.

"There is no way the DA is going to give us an arrest warrant on that," Cragen told them.

"What if we get Karen's statement?" Munch suggested.

"Then the DA might bite," Cragen answered. "So get over to the hospital, and get try to get her to talk."

St. Patrick's Hospital, 11th Avenue. Friday, March 5th.

"Listen detectives, I don't think talking to her is a good idea," the doctor told Fin and Munch, "especially after what some of your detectives did last night."

"What detectives?" Fin asked.

"They said they were from the three six precinct, and the sure gave her hell," the doctor explained. "We had to drag them out of the room after she broke into tears and started screaming, 'Get out. Leave me alone.'"

"Did you get names from these two detectives?" Munch inquired.

"Smith and Johnson I think."

Munch nodded and said, "Still, we would really appreciate if we could talk to her."

The doctor sighed and said, "Only one of you can go in, but only after she wakes up."

They nodded and the doctor headed off. Fin frowned and asked, "Since when as the three six stopped being Narcotics, and became Special Victims Unit?"

"Something's going on; I smell conspiracy," Munch mumbled.

"Or an attempt at a cover-up," Fin responded.

"I think I should question her," Munch said.

Fin leered at him and asked, "Why you?"

"I look most like a cop," Munch told him.

"You look like you're here to whack her," Fin retorted.

"You look like you going to shoot her in a drive by," Munch quipped.

Munch looked into the hospital room, and saw Karen was awake. Before Fin could respond, Munch entered.

Karen looked up and sighed when she saw Munch. "Let me guess, you're a detective," she said dryly.

"Yes, I am," Munch told her. He noticed she wasn't dressed in the hospital gown anymore. "Who brought you clothes?" he asked.

"Does it really matter?" Karen asked.

"Yes."

"Can I see some ID?" Karen asked sweetly.

Munch pulled out his badge and showed it to her. Karen grabbed it out of his hand and inspected it. While she was looking at it she thought, I really wish I knew what a real badge looks like.

Karen tossed the badge across the room and said, "You can buy more realistic badges at any joke store."

"Well, this one is real," Munch reassured her as he picked up his badge.

"And I'm the real Queen of England."

"Well, Your Highness, mind telling me what happen on the night of March 2nd?" Munch asked.

Karen gave him an icy glare and asked, with a sarcastic note, "Mind if I ask a question, Detective?"

"What?"

"How much are you making on this job? How much is your boss paying you to do this?" Karen asked, her angry blue eyes never leaving Munch's.

"Police officers don't make that much," Munch answered her

"But how much is he paying you?"

"I don't know who you mean," Munch told her.

"Let me put it in terms you'll understand," Karen said. "How much dough do you get for whacking me as a job for Godfather's son?"

"Aw, that's cute," Munch said sarcastically, "acting like I'm in the Italian mob."

"Oh I'm sorry, is it German mob or something?" Karen asked innocently.

"Russian," Munch said dryly. He regretted it the second the words fell out of his mouth. He didn't need another reason for Karen not to trust him. Sometimes he hated being a wise-ass.

Karen giggled, but stopped shortly and muffled a moan of pain. "Are you all right?" Munch asked.

"It hurts to laugh, Mobster," Karen told him, wincing in pain. "Be sure to thank your boss for me."

"Just who do you think my boss is?"

"The Godfather's son," Karen answered wryly.

Munch moved closer to Karen and said, "Listen, I really want to help you, but you have to tell me what happened."

Karen shook her head and yelled, "If I didn't talk to the other four supposed cops, why should I talk to you?"

"Quiet," Munch told her quickly. "Don't start yelling."

"Why?" Karen stared at him blankly, her eyes sizing him up. "You don't want me attracting attention before killing me?"

"I'm not going to kill you," Munch exclaimed. "I'm trying to help. Listen, an innocent man might go to jail if you don't comply."

Karen shook her head frantically and said, "No, no. Ron didn't hurt me; he couldn't even hurt a spider."

"Then tell me who did hurt you, Karen," Munch said kindly.

Karen closed her eyes, and shook her head. She felt some tears escape her eyes and roll down her cheek. Munch touched her shoulder compassionately, which made Karen jerk away and yell, "Leave me alone."

Munch let out a heavy sigh and left the room. Fin was waiting for him. "How did it go?"

Munch shook his head and said, "Called me a mobster and told me to leave, not before saying Ron didn't hurt her."

Karen's doctor came over to them and asked, "Is that going to be all, detectives?"

"For now," Munch told him.

"Well, she going to be released now, so is there anything else?" the doctor asked again.

"No," Munch answered him.

The doctor nodded and walked into Karen's room.

"You know if she leaves this hospital, there is no way she will talk to use again," Fin told Munch.

"I think she really wants to tell someone what happened, she just doesn't know who she can trust," Munch said.

Fin nodded and asked, "Do you have any suggestions on how we get her to trust us before she is released?"

Munch looked at his partner, and shook his head. "We don't exactly look like we're a trustworthy pair," Munch reminded him. He shrugged and suggested, "Maybe if we dress you up like a priest she'd trust you."

Fin face lit up and he said, "You're right."

"How am I right?" Munch asked, shocked.

Fin saw the doctor leave Karen's room, give Fin the opportunity. "I'll be right back."

"What are you doing?" Munch asked, as Fin entered Karen's room.