Ch. 21

End Game

It was like observing a specimen in a jar, or a waxwork statue through a window. Hangman one, identified by his driver license as Adrian Wallace, was stone still with his cuffed hands clasped neatly on the table top of the interrogation room. He hardly even blinked, and when he did it came as a surprise to those watching him both outside the room and inside.

Mac was one of the ones observing from the outside. Two Federal agents were handling the interview, and getting no where. Adrian hadn't asked for a lawyer. In fact he hadn't asked for anything, let alone said anything. He had not even winced or cried out when the doctors had removed the bullet from his leg. Mavin had remarked that they should have just left the bullet in to use as a bargaining chip for some info, and Mac couldn't help a silent, sarcastic agreement with him.

" Either he's regressed into himself," Farrone said, " going catatonic, or it's just all part of a strategy."

There was a rather large audience gathered about the window. Stella, Flack, Aiden, and Mavin of course, as well as several others involved in the case. Others were hovering within the halls, as close as they could be, waiting for word of mouth to be passed along. This was a big day for law enforcement. Even those not on the case were all ears to any news that might leak out.

The only one not present was, in Mac's opinion, the one who deserved to be at the front row listening in. But Danny needed rest, and was probably too numbed-up on painkillers to even care what was going down.

One of the agents was sitting across from Adrian, and the other pacing behind. The one at the table asked why he had done it, if there were other bodies, and where his brother was. The one pacing demanded he give them the location of the brother. They shouted, they offered a deal, they tried everything they could and Adrian did not so much as bat an eye.

" Wow," Aiden said, wide-eyed. " This guy's good."

" They're probably going to have to get nasty with him," Farrone said. " Sleep deprivation, meager diet. The kind of stuff that cults are said to use to brain wash people. It's been known to make even hard A-- open up."

Mac narrowed his eyes. The look on Adrian's face was not so much blank as resigned. The man was practicing pure patience, almost as though he was waiting for something.

The agent who had been pacing, a tall man in his fifties with gray along the edges of his dark hair, stepped from the room.

" It's like talking to a rock. He's not going to say anything." He looked at Farrone. " Any ideas?"

Anita chewed her lip for a moment, then sighed. " We must be going about this wrong. Adrian should be talking a storm. Bragging about his killings - or complaining that he was caught, something like that. I wouldn't expect him to give up his brother any time soon, though. Still, I think there's more to his being silent than we realize."

" What'd you suggest?"

" Well, we could ask him what he would have us do."

" Why?" Mavin said. " So he can spout a bunch of crap that'll end up getting him back out on the streets? You give him an inch; he'll screw you faster than you can blink. You can't give him what he wants."

Anita turned to Mavin. " Got a better idea?"

" Yeah, beat his A--."

Rather than giving Mavin a response, Farrone looked back at the agent. " Let me talk to him."

" Talk away." The agent led Farrone into the room. The presence of a woman still got no response from Adrian as Mac had assumed. The agent sitting stood and handed his seat over to Anita. She sat, setting her folder on the table and folding her hands on top of it.

" Adrian Wallace? My name is Anita Farrone and I'm with the FBI. I would like to ask you a few questions. First off, is there anything you need?"

Adrian remained mute.

" O-kay. Maybe… I should rephrase that." She cleared her throat, shifting slightly. She was obviously uncomfortable at what she was about to do; taking into consideration Mavin's words of Adrian manipulating them, because her next words came hesitantly. " Um - what is it… that you want us to do? What would you have us do?"

Still nothing.

" Wouldn't you like to tell us about all the things you did? About the women you killed? About the women your brother killed…"

Suddenly, Adrian closed his eyes as though suddenly weary.

" Not you."

Anita straightened. " What?"

" I have things to say… but not to you. I've lost, I've failed. My brother has won. You want my brother, you want me to tell you where he is. But I can't, not to you. The thing is, you'll never catch him. He won, so he can never be caught. I can, however, tell you where to find him. I must, it was what was agreed upon. But I can't tell you."

Anita leaned forward slightly. " Why not?"

" I can only talk to the one who caught me."

" Why?"

" Because he won. By that it is his right and duty to hear what I have to say. If you want to find my brother than I have to talk to the one who caught me."

" He's a little incapacitated at the moment."

" I'll only talk to him, no one else."

" He can't talk, not right now. I'm surprised you didn't know that since you're the one who did it to him."

" I just need him to listen. But only him." Adrian then fell silent.

Mac was uneasy about this. They needed to find the second killer, but for all any of them knew this was just some plot for Adrian to get at Danny. Adrian had already shown himself to be the vengeful type, and likely wished to finish what he had started with Danny.

Farrone stood and left the room. She gave Mac an apologetic look on coming out. " I think this one's your call since it's one of your guys we're talking about."

" Actually, it would be Danny's call. I'm not going to make him face the guy who tried to cut out his heart, not if he doesn't want to. However, knowing Danny, he'll probably agree to it."

Mac then looked over his shoulder at Flack. " Go to the hospital. If Danny's willing, bring him in. But only when he's ready, and if he's coherent."

Flack nodded. " Got it." Then walked quickly away.

Mac looked back at Farrone. " He said that his brother could never be caught, but he's willing to tell us where to find him. What's that supposed to mean?"

Anita shrugged. " I'm not sure, not yet. We'll have to wait and see if he says more to Danny."

CSINY

There was no saying how long it would be until Danny arrived. It was like an intermission to a movie, with everyone departing to set about some menial busy work, or downing a quick lunch, passing the time until the show resumed.

Mac grabbed some coffee from the break room and took it to his office. He sat at his desk and began looking through a stack of papers. They were the reports on what was found at Danny's apartment after the attack. Adrian had hidden in a closet, where a jar of blood was found that would have been used for the snake. The majority of the blood found on the floor in the kitchen belonged to Danny and outside the kitchen to Adrian. Adrian's hands had been covered in some of Danny's blood as well, leaving distinct fingerprints on the knife.

The evidence was dead-set against this guy. There was no way that Adrian was going to walk.

There came a knock on the glass of the office, and Mac snapped his head up to see Flack standing outside. He nodded once to Mac then pointed back over his shoulder. Mac stood and left the office to follow Flack.

" He's willing," Flack said. " But he doesn't look too up to it. I would say he looks like hell but it would be an understatement."

Danny was found sitting at a desk that wasn't his. Flack hadn't been kidding when he said that Danny looked like hell. The usually professionally dressed CSI had his arm in a blue sling, his shirt untucked and slightly wrinkled, and no jacket. His face was turned down, resting in his upraised palm.

" Hey, Danny!" Flack said. Danny lowered his arm and raised his head to reveal a pale face with dark shadows under his eyes. There was a bandage wrapped around the middle of his throat like a bad dog collar, and his glasses were missing from his face. He also looked ready to drop his head on the desk and fall asleep.

Mac grabbed the nearest unoccupied chair and pulled it over in front of the desk to sit down. " Flack explain the situation?"

Danny swallowed, wincing and shuddering when he did, and nodded.

" This guy insists on talking to you, but I don't want you to feel like you have to do this. He might say things, try things, meant to upset you, I'm warning you now."

Danny lifted a shaking hand to run it through his hair. He didn't just look tired he also looked sick, most likely because of the drugs.

" You with me, Danny?"

Danny nodded again, swallowing with another wince.

" All you have to do is listen. But you'll be in there alone. He won't talk if anyone else is in there."

Again, Danny nodded.

" Let's do this, then."

CSINY

Danny could only stare at the dark-haired man sitting across from him. It was said of serial killers that they never looked the part of the ideal bad-guy. If anything they always looked innocent, everyday, a face easily lost in the masses, trustable and plain. This guy was one of those. There was nothing sinister or murderous in his expression. If anything he looked sad, and if Danny hadn't known any better he would have felt somewhat sorry for the man.

So Danny felt no fear around Adrian, but he was wary, and the sleep-fog that had refused to clear up finally vanished with rising trepidation.

They sat in silence for a moment with locked gazes. Danny wanted desperately to say something, anything - biting, sarcastic, questioning. But trying to talk caused as much agony as trying to swallow.

" You look terrible," Adrian finally said. Danny grinned bitterly, then raised his middle finger at the guy.

" Were these different circumstances, I would have taken that as rude and not told you anything. But I have to. I lost. As the loser, I have to tell you everything. Your co-workers want me to tell you about the deaths, but you already know about those. I would like to point at that they all came to us. It had been their choice."

Danny clenched his fist furiously and swallowed. When he did, a burning pain pulsed within his throat. He wanted to ask why they had killed them at all, why this all happened. The answer would probably involve some sob story about how they were abused or molested as children. Maybe they had been neglected and didn't like being ignored, or had terrible love lives. More than likely it was all because of some superiority complex. The game had been about proving themselves, according to Farrone. So much for trying to prove anything.

" You won't catch my brother," he said. " You never will, I'm warning you now. So why am I telling you where to find him?" Adrian grinned a cold, humorless smile. " You'll find out."

He then leaned forward. " Listen closely now."

He lowered his voice as he told Danny of an address and even how to find it. He repeated the address three times, then sat back, folding his hands back onto the table and falling into silence.

" And next time someone comes into your home to put a knife to you, don't go back. I know it was hard, especially for you. You shouldn't have said anything in the park. You shouldn't have gone home."

Danny wanted to laugh, and the urge to speak made the muscles of his throat tense up, burning until he coughed. Adrian grinned at this, aggravating Danny further. Finally, Danny pushed himself to his feet with painful slowness. He moved around the table, then gripped the chain between the cuffs and leaned in toward Adrian.

" You shouldn't…" he rasped in so low a whisper that he did not even know if he had spoken at all. His throat practically screamed with pain, but he swallowed and forced the words out. " Have come… to… my house."

To drive home his point, he lifted the cuffs by the connecting chain, then released it to let Adrian's hands drop to the table with a loud thump. Danny straightened as much as his own body would allow, coughing and clenching his hands to resist rubbing his throat. He left the room, still coughing though it was only making things worse. Still, it had been worth it. Adrian was no longer smiling.

" We didn't hear the address," Mac said, looking at Danny oddly. " Write it down."

Farrone handed Danny a pen and held out her notepad as Danny wrote down the address.

" Will you be all right waiting here until we check this out?" Mac asked. Danny nodded. He wanted to go and see this brother for himself, but the adrenaline rush that had cleared his head in the interrogation room had been short lived, and was leaving him fast. All he wanted to do was lie down, but not here and not back at the hospital.

Mac handed the address to one of the Feds, and he began giving orders of who should come and how they needed to go about this. Danny was still holding the pen, so nudged Farrone in the arm with his elbow and gestured to note pad. She held it as he wrote down a question, then tore the paper off and handed it to Mac.

When you get this guy, then can I go home?

Mac grinned. " Yeah. Then you can go home."

CSINY

The address took them to an apartment in Brooklyn; a small building crammed between two others in a quiet, old fashioned kind of neighborhood. It was full of sound and life with screaming kids at play, barking dogs, someone blasting a stereo, and adults gathered on stoops or around cars talking.

The wail of police sirens and the sight of cop cars caused the everyday activity of the neighborhood to cease, and all eyes turned in the direction of the action. Law enforcement entered the building, making their way to the third floor and the room at the very end of the green-carpeted corridor.

Mavin was the one who reached the place first. He pulled out his gun and pounded on the door.

" Mr. Wallace? This is the NYPD. Open up."

They all waited several seconds, but heard no sound. Finally, Mavin and another cop kicked in the door and they all rushed in, only to stop before even entering the living room.

The spitting image of Adrian Wallace was hanging from a fan half-torn from the ceiling by the man's weight. The noose was formed from a wire that had cut into his neck, spilling his blood down his clothes and into a bucket below his feet. A chair lay toppled on its back behind the corpse. A note pinned to his gray cover-alls read - I win.

" So that's what he meant," Flack said, " when he said we wouldn't catch him."

Mac nodded then maneuvered through the gaping police, with Stella and Farrone following behind. Mac set his kit down by the chair, then pulled out his cell.

" Who're you calling?" Stella asked, setting her own kit down.

" Danny."

" Why?"

" To let him know he can go home."