Fin tuned out the conversation going on around him in the squad room. He was just about ready to shove somebody's head through a wall. No, not somebody, he corrected. Healey. He was ready to shove Healey's head through a wall. And she'd only been in the room for ten minutes. He checked his watch. Just after three. The rest of the day wasn't looking good, but at least it would be over soon. He was looking forward to going home and sleeping in his own bed, maybe ordering delivery from the pizzeria around the corner. He could probably do with a couple of beers too, so he'd have to stop off on the way home…
A loud complaint brought his attention back to the present. "Are we just going to sit here doing nothing for the rest of the afternoon?" Fin mentally catalogued the things around the room that could be used to gag Healey. He noted that Elliot was gazing studiously at his desk, while Munch looked as if he were about to have a coronary. "Is anyone going to answer me?"
Munch appeared to count to ten before responding, "You can go wait in the holding cell if you'd like. Or the drunk tank. That one's soundproof."
"I'm getting more than a little tired of your negative attitude, Det. Munch, and I'm going to have a serious talk about it with Capt. Cragen when he gets back from his meeting, because I think you could use some work on your people skills so you don't come off so…"
Fin stifled a laugh as he saw Elliot making faces behind Healey's back as she pontificated. He decided that things could be worse; he could have been stuck with her for the entire day as Munch had been. As it was, he'd had enough to deal with as silent witness to Olivia and Eckerson's painfully obvious sexual tension. He'd felt like a third wheel the entire time he'd spent with the pair the previous day, but hadn't been able to come up with a legitimate excuse to leave them alone without making his awareness known. He doubted Olivia would be quick to forgive him for the insight. If he could call something so easy to spot an insight.
He honestly couldn't see the problem with Eckerson. Elliot clearly hated his guts, but he seemed like a nice enough guy and a pretty good cop. There had to be something else going on that he, Fin, just didn't know about. Not that it was any of his business, but he wished someone would tell him something, share some gossip, anything. For one of the few times in his life, he felt like he was in a place where he wanted relationships that went beyond the surface. The feeling came and went, but had been nagging at him more often lately.
"Is there a problem here?" Cragen was standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. Fin directed his attention to his Captain and decided he would cut an imposing figure if he were taller. At his current height, he conveyed only fatherly disappointment to come home to his kids fighting. The dad analogy seemed like it was never far away any time Fin looked at Cragen. He wondered if it were a symptom of his increasing desire for closeness with the squad or the cause.
The one person in the room he'd like to be further away from, permanently if possible, answered, "We were just having a discussion about the case." Healey appeared miffed that her oration had been interrupted.
"Discussion implies the participation of more than one party," Munch murmured just loud enough for Fin to hear. Fin smirked at his partner.
Cragen, not overhearing, said, "Should I take that to mean you've all had a productive day?"
Fin cleared his throat. He would hardly have called the day 'productive.' After what felt like days of research, they had managed to find Judith Paige's social security number, which led them to her old addresses and employers. Then they'd visited them personally. They'd visited all of them personally. Of the seven people he and Elliot had talked with, five had had only vague recollections, and one had clearly been lying. The final interview had been the only one that had led to some useful information.
Fin listened as Elliot recapped it for Munch, Healey and Cragen. "The only person we found with what we'd consider reliable information was Ida Cohen, the Paiges' neighbor in the Bronx from '67 to '73. She's in her 80's and living in a retirement home now, but she seemed pretty sharp." He looked to Fin for acknowledgement and Fin nodded. The old lady had been more on the ball than most people in their twenties. Elliot continued, "She remembered Judith Paige being pregnant in 1969. That would put the age of our little brother at about 35."
"A 35 year old guy from the Bronx? Well, that certainly blows this case wide open."
"It's more than you found." Surprised by his own outburst, Fin made a conscious effort not to add 'bitch' to the end of his statement.
"That is completely uncalled for, Det. Fin, and it brings up exactly what I wanted to talk to you, Capt. Cragen, about and your squad's utter inability to work with the Marshals and…"
Cragen held his hand up to prevent Fin from rising and spoke to cut off Healey. "I'm sure Det. Tutuola" - Fin almost smiled at the emphasis Cragen put on the correction - "is just eager to get through the details he and Det. Stabler uncovered in light of the little background we have been able to find. Fin, anything other than she was pregnant? Name of the baby? Birthday?"
Fin glanced at Healey, who was staring resolutely at the evidence board, before he answered, "She said the kid was probably born in July or August."
"And how sure was Mrs. Cohen on this?"
"Real sure. Kept tellin' us about how her son graduated high school that year, and how Judy and her son T.J. couldn't come to the party on account of labor settin' in."
"T.J.?" Cragen shook his head. "You never think of serial killers having nicknames."
"Or model childhoods. Mrs. Cohen was all compliments on T.J. and his helpfulness. He carried her groceries, moved furniture around, even helped her bury her cat when some, uh, neighborhood kids cut it up and let it bleed to death in the back alley. Three guesses who did the deed on that one."
Elliot interjected, "I don't think she even knows that T.J. is Terry Paige, because I gotta tell ya, the moment I found out somebody I'd known was a homicidal raping maniac I'd be looking for reasons to put him down rather than build him up."
"I take it you two didn't enlighten her?"
As he walked toward the coffee maker, Elliot replied, "Uh-uh. Who wants to give an old lady news like that? I don't even know if my CPR certs are current."
"Anyway," Fin continued, "she didn't actually know anything beyond Mama Paige being pregnant and the rough dates. Never saw boyfriends; never even saw the baby, in fact. One day she's ready to pop, a week later she's walkin' around with no baby like everything's fine."
"Apparently Judy was a quiet girl…kept to herself mostly…"
"Heh, thanks for the profile, John. Did you and Healey find anything?"
"Not much, Cap. Paige's medical records are spotty, at best. She probably spent more time at anonymous clinics than hospitals. The only birth certificate she's named on is Terry's. No record of a second baby."
"Is there any way we can do a search for foster kids and adopted kids from the Bronx born in July or August of '69?" Cragen asked no one in particular.
"I'm not sure that records going back that far are even computerized, or available to us, and I'm pretty sure they seal adoption records, so I'm not sure how much help that will be."
"It's what we've got for now, Healey. Do what you can. All of you." He glanced around. "Olivia and Eckerson aren't back yet?"
"Haven't heard from them," Elliot said, stirring his coffee.
"They must still be at One PP." Cragen walked into his office, presumably to check on the whereabouts of Olivia and Eckerson. Fin, for one, was glad they'd been away all day. He hoped they'd had a chance to work some things out. They were probably either fighting or making out in the back seat by now. Or both.
Healey suddenly walked purposely toward the door. "What leaving us so soon, Healey?" Munch asked sarcastically.
"I'm going to the ladies' room, Det. Munch, and just because your Captain is willing to put up with your attitude, all of your attitudes, don't think it won't come back to bite you." She stalked off down the hallway.
"She can go ahead and bite me, then."
Fin laughed at Elliot's wisecrack, asking, "What's she threatening us with anyway?"
Munch's eyes peered over the rims of his glasses. "Probably a permanent transfer to SVU. She can be your new partner, Det. Fin."
"What you gonna leave me, John?"
"Let's just say I think I'd prefer Bubonic plague, or burning at the stake, maybe crucifixion, to working with Healey. At least I could look forward to death at the end of those. With her it just goes on and on indefinitely."