Disclaimer: SVU does not belong to me in any way, shape, or form. Boo.
CHAPTER THREE
DOINK-DOINK
"You Lewis Moore?"
The somewhat scrawny, nerdy-looking young man turned to face whoever had hailed him. When he saw Elliot holding out his badge, he looked nervous.
"Yeah," said Moore. "What do you want?"
"We just wanted to ask you a couple of questions. Why don't you come with us?" said Olivia.
DOINK-DOINK
"I told you already, I never touched Catherine Schmidt! She's making it up because she didn't like the way I drew her."
Moore wasn't giving an inch in his story, and Elliot felt his patience being strained.
"Well, to tell you the truth, it was pretty…graphic," said Elliot, slapping the sketchbook down on the table and flipping through the dozens of sketches of women being tortured.
"I know that being in the job you are, it must seem inappropriate, but I have to draw what I feel," said Moore in an annoyingly artsy manner.
"So you feel women should be objects to maim?" said Olivia.
"Not at all, Detective. These pictures scared you, right? They disturbed you. That's the whole point. These are supposed to offend, to show how horrible the crimes really are."
Olivia turned to a particularly upsetting sketch and pointed to the girl portrayed in it.
"How old is she supposed to be?" she asked. "She looks like a kid."
"She is," said Moore. "That's called Little Miss Laura, like that doll. My neice has one."
Something stirred in Elliot, and Olivia noticed his fidget. She caught his eye and they communicated silently that they both needed to leave the room.
"Would you excuse us for a minute?" said Elliot, and Olivia gathered the sketchbook and followed him out the door.
"What's going on?" asked Olivia as soon as they were out of earshot of anyone else.
"Hand me that picture," said Elliot.
Olivia leafed through the book until she arrived at Little Miss Laura. Elliot stared at it, brought it closer to his face, and furrowed his brow.
"What?" prompted Olivia.
"Laura Jenkins," said Elliot. "Look at her. That's got to be Laura Jenkins."
"The girl from the Upper West Side? That was a huge case, what with her father running for Senator and all," said Olivia. "Are you sure?"
"Look at her," repeated Elliot.
Olivia looked, and she could certainly see a resemblance…more than a resemblance. The picture showed the young teenager being pinned down by a shirtless man, and they could see a tattoo on the sketched man's shoulder.
"Talk about artistic license," said Olivia.
"Might not be. We never did find the guy. For all we know, Moore knows him and got the idea from there."
"That's kind of far-fetched, don't you think? Anyone could have read her story in the newspaper and gotten the idea from there."
"Maybe," said Elliot thoughtfully. "Still, I'd like to see why he chose this particular take on it."
DOINK-DOINK
Catherine Schmidt came bounding over to Cragen in the hospital waiting room.
"I got your message. What happened?" she said, peeling off her jacket.
"Caroline's okay. She got a little woozy at the office and we both thought it would be best if she got checked out. They're looking at her right now," said Cragen. "Have a seat, I'll stay with you."
"Thanks," said Catherine gratefully, and she flopped into the nearest chair.
"How are you holding up?" asked Cragen.
"I've been better. It was so weird…I came out of the interview room and Elliot said you'd gone to the hospital with Caroline. I thought…I don't know what I thought. I freaked out because I knew I couldn't handle anything happening to her, especially with…"
Catherine trailed off and toyed with a string on her jeans.
"It's Passover soon. I think she said we're inviting everyone for our seder, if you're interested," said Catherine. "I'll probably burn everything we're cooking, but most of it's supposed to be bitter anyway."
Cragen managed a hint of a smile when Caroline came walking toward them, accompanied by a nurse.
"Carrie!" said Catherine, immediately going to her and giving her a tight hug. "You scared the hell out of me. Don't ever do that again!"
"I'll do my best," said Caroline weakly.
"I already told your captain about the seder, so I hope we were inviting him," said Catherine, still hugging Caroline.
Caroline let out a loud laugh and the nurse smiled and walked away. Catherine finally let go of her sister and Cragen approached, shaking Caroline's hand.
"Everything okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm doing fine. The doctor said I just need to take a day or two off and rest, but then I'll be ready for work again, no problem," said Caroline.
"Go home," said Cragen firmly. "Go home now. Take a break, for God's sake."
"I will, I promise. I'll be back on Monday."
Catherine looked as though she wanted to say something, but held her tongue. Instead, she contented herself with steering her older sister out the door and to her waiting car.
DOINK-DOINK
"According to the ME's report, Laura Jenkins was beaten, raped, and strangled with a scarf. When they found her, she had already been dead for a day," said Olivia, reading from the file.
"Yeah, but look at this here," said Elliot, showing Olivia a crime scene photo, a closeup of Laura's forearm. "The bruising pattern."
"Looks like she was held down by her forearms," said Olivia, examining the pattern.
"Yeah," said Elliot, taking Olivia's arm in his hand and demonstrating gently. "Just like this…like the picture."
And as both detectives looked once more at Moore's sketch, Little Miss Laura, they saw the similarities. Even more chilling was what Olivia noticed was lying on a table in the lower left-hand corner of the paper.
"Elliot…there's a scarf," she said, pointing.
Elliot peered into the corner of the sketch and noted the image of the scarf.
"Look at how he drew himself, though," said Elliot, lightly tracing the outline of the sketched rapist. "Tall…muscular…some tough-looking tattoo…this is his sicko fantasy."
"We don't know it's him, El," said Olivia. "That could be –"
"Artistic license? Yeah, it could, but I don't care. I want to find out how he knew so much about the crime."