Chapter 4

The detectives were at their desks bright and early the next morning preparing the paperwork for their meeting with ADA Casey Novak. Stabler knew their case was shaky right now but Casey had a good heart along with being a tough, no nonsense ADA. If there was any legal way to arrest the dirtbags who had been involved in the assault on David Gallagher and make charges stick, she'd figure out how to do it.

At 9:00 a.m. on the button Novak sailed through the office door in a crisp business suit, her medium length blond hair carefully styled into its usual flip and her makeup subtle and professional. She had a cup of coffee in one hand and an overstuffed briefcase in the other. Benson looked up from her desk and indicated the conference room. Novak nodded and shifted direction as she cheerily greeted some of the other detectives. Captain Cragen came out of his office and headed for the conference room as Stabler and Benson gathered their notes and files and headed in the same direction. Dr. Huang was already in the room reviewing the file on David Gallagher's kidnapping when the others entered.

Once the entire group was gathered around the conference table, Novak began the meeting with her usual directness, "What else have you got for me because I'm not liking what I've seen so far."

Stabler frowned, "You watched the video?"

"I watched the video. I certainly expect it'll fuel some pretty nasty nightmares, but on its own it proves nothing. You've got fifteen men, all over the age of 18, engaging in some pretty disgusting behavior, but there's nothing illegal about that on its face."

Stabler opened his mouth to argue, but Novak held up her hand. "Let me finish, Elliott. I understand David is saying he didn't consent to what was done to him, but he's also saying he has very little memory of what actually did happen. He doesn't remember what he said to the men in that room, but from the statements Dean Jacobs gave you, none of those he interviewed thought anything was wrong. David doesn't appear to be struggling or resisting in any way on the video. We can argue til we're blue in the face that that's only because the Graves kid slipped him drugs, but you only have Dean Jacobs' statement to support that, and as we all know that's hearsay.

"The kid's got a lawyer now - and a pretty good one at that - so I can almost guarantee that once you have him in cuffs and Mirandized, his story is going to change dramatically. Hell, I've been at this long enough, I can probably tell you what the new story's going to be."

"We interviewed him late last night," Stabler said heavily. "The new story is he made the drug thing up to get the Dean to stop yelling at David and to keep him from expelling him. He didn't expect the Dean to call the police about it."

"Great," Novak snorted. "Totally predictable. And it puts a torpedo right through your case."

"What about the alcohol?" Benson suggested. "David said Justin got them both beers when they arrived at the frat house. And the video shows Justin drinking vodka and feeding it to David. Justin's still under 21 even if David isn't."

Novak shrugged, "Another case of needing a corroborating witness. Did Justin admit he got himself a beer or just that he got David one? David has already admitted his memory of that evening is spotty, so everything he says has to be taken with a grain of salt. And as far as the vodka goes, just because the bottle says vodka, that doesn't mean that's what's in it. It could be water for all we know. And even if we can get somebody to admit that it really was vodka, underage drinking is a slap on the hand. It might get you a foot in the door to get a warrant for a full search of the place, but that's only once you have an actual complainant. Has David signed on the dotted line yet? His being of age is working against us on this one. If he were still a minor, we could have started the ball rolling last night without him."

"He's still at the hospital," Stabler responded. "They kept him overnight. We're picking him up around noon and bringing him back here to finish the paperwork."

"You realize time isn't on your side here. The longer you wait, the more the rumor mill churns and the more people hear about what's been going on. This is a big, fat juicy story full of homosexual sex, drugs and alcohol, and once the media catch wind of it, they're going to have a field day. The guys on the video have already been alerted by Dean Jacobs' investigation that their heads are on the chopping block. If they've heard the police are involved, they'll have that house spic and span clean by the time you get there."

"What about the video itself," Cragen suggested. "I got the impression from the way the men were acting that the camera wasn't in plain view. Are we sure they all knew they were being videotaped? And what about distribution of the video? Do the sale and distribution of pornography statutes come into play? It sounds like copies of the thing are all over the campus, and that probably includes the hands of underage students."

Novak shrugged again, "Interview them and find out. Get me a complainant or find me a law that's been broken, ladies and gentlemen. I can't do anything for you without one. The best I can do right now is be ready to push through the paperwork for the search warrant for the frat house once you have David's signature on the dotted line."

After Novak and Huang left, Stabler, Benson and Cragen sat in the conference room staring dejectedly at one another.

"Where do we stand on the vic - David Gallagher. Do you really think we're going to have trouble getting him to file a complaint?" Cragen asked, his eyes boring into those of his two lead detectives.

"No," Stabler said with conviction at the same time Benson said, "Well . . . ."

The detectives looked at each other in surprise as Cragen barked, "Well, which is it?"

"He was in pretty bad shape last night, Captain," Benson said hesitantly. "He practically had a nervous breakdown right in front of our eyes."

"He was better once we got him to the hospital," Stabler rebutted stubbornly. "By the time we left, he was back in control of himself and talking and acting normally."

"I saw the file," Cragen said heavily. "This kid's already been through hell and back once. And you know the other men's lawyers are going to use his past to try and tear him apart. Are we sure he can take the heat?"

"Are you saying we shouldn't even try, Captain?" Stabler asked indignantly. "That we should just let those bastards get away with what they did to him?"

"Of course not, Elliott, and I'm offended you'd suggest such a thing. What I am saying is this kid's been through the wringer on the super speed cycle already. I want to make sure we're not doing him more harm than good by forcing him to go through a process that's going to rip apart what little self-esteem he has left. We've seen vics before in situations that weren't even half as bad as this go over the deep end and try to kill themselves.

"I remember his case - when he disappeared. It was one of the most heart-wrenching things I'd ever heard of. The bastard who was molesting him only beat the police coming to arrest him by ten minutes, but it was enough for him to escape and disappear with the kid for five years. When the report came in from the Phoenix PD that they'd found David alive, and in reasonably good shape, there were grown men crying in the squad room. It seemed like a sign from God that things can turn out all right after all.

"From what you've told me, David seems like he's grown up into a nice, reasonably normal young man despite everything that happened to him. I don't want him to become another sacrifice on the altar of justice."

"You're right, Captain," Stabler said repentently. "I'm sorry for what I said before. I didn't mean to imply you were looking for the easy way out at David's expense."

"Apology accepted," Cragen said. "But if you really want to show me you mean it, go catch me some bad guys."

"So what now?" Benson asked as the two detectives walked out of the station house toward their car. "We can't do much without the signed complaint."

"We can't do much formally," Stabler corrected with a mischievous grin. "I think Casey's right about the frat boys cleaning up the house before we get there. So why don't we pay them an unofficial visit right now and rattle their cages a bit."

Benson's lips curved into an answering grin. "Let's go."

Benson stared out the passenger window, her eyebrow raised, as the three-story victorian home that had been converted into the fraternity's playhouse came into view. "Nice digs."

"If you play your cards right, maybe they'd be willing to give you a deal on a room."

"Hmmf," Benson snorted. "I don't think I have the right plumbing to interest them in making a deal, and even if I did, I doubt I'd like the terms. Aren't you looking for a place?"

"Ha, ha, funny," her partner replied with an easy smile as he parked the car and they got out.

Just as they reached the steps leading to the porch, the front door opened and a tall, broad-shouldered light-skinned man with dark brown hair and piercing brown eyes stepped out onto the porch. He stood in front of the door with thick, muscular arms crossed over his chest as he studied them with unfriendly eyes. "Can I help you?"

Stabler plastered a fake smile on his face and pulled out his I.D. Benson followed suit. "Police. We'd like to ask you a few questions about a party held on these premises last Friday night."

"What about it? It was a private party - fraternity members only. No excessive noise. No one puking in the neighbors' bushes. No cops knocking on the door saying they'd received complaints. We try to be good neighbors."

"I'm sure you're all outstanding citizens of the community and your parents are very proud," Stabler replied in a slightly mocking tone.

"So what's the problem?"

"We're investigating an alleged sexual assault at the party."

"You must be mistaken, Officer. Nothing like that happened here. And I know all the guys at the party, none of them would make an allegation like that."

"You know all of them?" Benson cut in with relief. "Well, that'll make our job a lot easier, won't it, Elliot. What's your name by the way?"

The big man frowned. "Gregg, Gregg Peterson."

"Nice to meet you, Gregg," Stabler said, his faux smile still firmly in place. "I'm Detective Stabler. Elliot Stabler. And this is my partner, Detective Benson. Are you the man in charge around here?"

Something he heard in the tone of the question made Peterson stand up a little straighter and give Stabler an assessing gaze, before finally saying, "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Good," Stabler said, keeping the easy smile in place. "It's always good to deal with the man in charge. Less hassles that way. Don't you agree, Gregg."

"Sure," the man replied a little uncertainly as he turned his gaze from Stabler to Benson then back again.

"Would you mind if we went inside and sat down, Gregg? It's a little cold out here."

"You got a search warrant?"

"Do we really need one, Gregg?" Benson asked with dismay. "And here we thought we would just drop by, sit down for a nice friendly chat and get this mess straightened out in a few minutes without having to deal with all those nasty formalities. But I guess if you need us to go through the hassle of getting a search warrant, we'll have to do it."

She sighed dramatically. "It's really too bad, though, because I don't know about Elliot here, but after wasting my morning wading through all that red tape, I know I'm not going to be in the mood for a nice, friendly chat any more once I get done. In fact, I'll probably have to insist that you and all your buddies come down to the station to talk to us instead while our guys tear this place apart."

Stabler gave a sympathetic nod. "Yeah, Gregg. I really hate wasting my time like that too. I'm sure you'd agree there are a whole lot more pleasant ways I could spend that time," he added flashing Peterson another easy smile.

The big man gazed speculatively at Stabler again then looked nervously toward the door. The detectives noted the slight fluttering of a curtain on a nearby window before Peterson said, "Well, okay. As long as all you want to do is talk, it's not a problem."

"What are you so worried about, Gregg?" Stabler asked as the man led them inside and into a comfortable sitting room filled with cushy armchairs and lined with bookshelves stuffed with books. "You said nothing happened at the party and we have no reason to doubt your veracity at this point. So what's the problem?"

Peterson shrugged. "There've been rumors going around the last week or so about what goes on here. Nasty, ugly rumors that are completely untrue. We deliberately set this house up off campus to get away from all the prying eyes, and we kept ourselves an unofficial fraternity with no affiliation to any national chapter just so we could do what we wanted without a lot of hassle. Everybody who lives here or is invited here by a member is over 18 and anything that happens here is between consenting adults. There are rules and the members all understand why it's absolutely imperative they all live by them. We don't want any outsiders causing trouble for us."

"Well, it seems one of your members didn't follow the rules so good, Gregg. What can you tell me about Justin Graves?"

The man was clearly startled. "Justin? What's Justin got to do with this?"

"Justin brought a friend with him to the party, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Peterson responded, the hint of a smile crossing his face. "Another guy who wanted to join the fraternity. David, David something. I don't remember his last name, but he sure knows how to party."

"Really? Funny thing about that," Benson said casually. "David says he wasn't really in a partying mood Friday night until he went to Justin's room and Justin gave him a beer. He doesn't remember a whole lot after that."

Peterson's eyes narrowed. "The guy can't hold his liquor it ain't our fault. He seemed perfectly fine when I saw him. I ran through the rules with him and asked if he understood and agreed to them. He nodded his head yes. As far as I could tell, he understood exactly what was going to happen. And he never complained or said he wanted to stop."

"And what exactly did you tell him was going to happen?" Stabler asked, sitting back in his chair and forcing himself to keep his body language relaxed and casual.

Peterson let his gaze linger appreciatively as he followed the casual movement, then glanced at Benson. "Look. Like I said, we're all consenting adults here. The parties are about sex, everybody knows that. Sex among consenting adults. I know there are a lot of puritanical people out there who'd have a fit if they knew what went on here, but it's none of their damn business. Nobody's getting hurt. It's just sex."

He let his eyes sweep slowly over Stabler again. "You're a guy. You understand about these things. For guys it's all about sex. Women," he shot a dismissive glance at Benson, "they just don't get it. Guy gets his rocks off and two seconds later he's thinking about the football game, whether he'll make it to the garage in time to get the car inspected or how soon he can get another piece of ass. It ain't that big a deal."

Stabler laughed easily, "Yeah, I know what you mean. It's okay, my partner is pretty hip for a woman. She's not one of those clingy types who wants to know your intentions before the act's even over."

A look of relief passed over Peterson's face. "That's cool. So we got nothing to worry about, this thing is going to go away, right?"

"I'm not so sure about that, Gregg," Benson jumped into the conversation with a touch of regret in her voice. "You see, there's a little complication. Seems Justin didn't just give David a beer; he added something extra special to it, if you know what I mean. The kind of extra special that makes you think anything - say like jumping out a window, running into rush hour traffic on the highway, or even letting fourteen guys you don't know sodomize you - is okay. And, unfortunately for you and your friends, that is a crime, so no, this thing isn't going to just go away."

Peterson's mouth had dropped open in stunned silence. "That stupid little weasel. I'm going to kill him. I knew there was something screwy about him. I wasn't crazy about him joining the group because he's not really my type, but he was so much fun at the parties, I let it slide. I never thought he'd pull anything like that. I mean, I thought it was weird he was giving everybody a shot at his boyfriend, but you've seen that guy David, right -- nobody was turning down a piece of that."

"Justin introduced David as his boyfriend?" Stabler asked.

"Yeah, sure. It was pretty obvious anyway. They were all over each other. Kissing and necking from the minute they walked in the door, their hands all over each other most of the time."

"So it looked mutual to you. It wasn't just Justin kissing and touching David? David was reciprocating?"

"Sure. There wasn't much Justin could do if he wasn't. That David's gotta be around 6 foot and Justin's barely 5'5." He wouldn't have been able to do much if David hadn't been cooperating."

Stabler and Benson exchanged troubled glances.

"You mentioned the rules earlier," Benson said casually. "What exactly are they?"

"New initiates got to let at least five guys do them. They can take more on if they want, but the minimum is five. Everyone's got to use a condom and plenty of lube for the initiation. We don't want anybody getting hurt."

"Why five," Stabler asked shooting Peterson a slow smile.

The man returned the smile and relaxed in his chair. "That's how many guys were in the original group. No fair making the new guys take more than the original group had to."

"Can't argue with that," Benson said. "Do most guys try anyway?"

"Not too many. Justin was the first one in over a year to run the whole gauntlet. It was twelve that night. And he did it like it was nothing. He even wanted to keep partying afterwards. So when he said he was bringing a friend who likes to party as much as he does, well, let's just say we had a full house that night. Anybody with other plans canceled them."

"So the entire group was there last Friday?"

"Yeah. Everybody was there."

"So what if somebody doesn't like using condoms?" Stabler asked, keeping the easy smile in place as he met Peterson's gaze.

Peterson shifted in his seat and his smile got brighter. "No way around that rule unless you come as a couple. If you're already a couple, you don't have to use them with each other but you've got to use them with everybody else."

"So Justin wouldn't have had to use a condom with David if he didn't want to?" Benson asked.

"No, but he did."

"Did he now?" Stabler asked casually.

"That's right, Ell, he did at the beginning," Benson cut in, "I remember that on the video. It was at the end, when he jacked off in David's mouth, that he didn't."

Peterson's face went ash white. "You . . . you've seen the video."

"Sure," Stabler said. "You've got to know it's floating around. You got called into Dean Jacobs' office because of it. Did you really think it hadn't made its way to us yet?"

Peterson rebounded quickly. "Well if you've already seen the video, why are you hassling me? It's all there in full color. It's obvious David wasn't complaining or fighting to get away or nothing. No one was holding him down and forcing him to do anything. It was his choice to run the gauntlet. Nobody made him do it. He could have stopped it any time he wanted. I told him that myself."

"Justin was certainly encouraging him," Stabler said, the easy smile still in place. "At one point he was feeding him vodka to keep him going."

Before Peterson could respond, a medium built man with dark cocoa skin, deep brown eyes, short black hair that lay in small tight curls against his scalp and an athletic build, who the detectives knew from the expression on his face had been eavesdropping the entire time, strode into the room. "You must be mistaken, Officer. We don't allow underage drinking at any of our functions. Justin never had any alcohol."

"Really?" Benson said. "Because there's this one time he's holding the bottle up and you can see the label real clearly. I could have sworn it said vodka. Didn't it say vodka, Ell?"

"That's what I saw," Stabler responded.

"He must have been using an empty filled with water as a prop," the man responded. "Justin is very dramatic. He likes to put on a show."

"Well, he certainly put on quite a show that night, didn't he?" Stabler responded drily.

The man shrugged. "It was a very entertaining evening. All the members seemed to enjoy it. I haven't heard any complaints from anybody."

"If someone were to have a complaint," Benson interjected, "are you the one it would be directed to, Mr. . . . I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Bishop. Peter Bishop," the man responded after a note of hesitation. "And I would be one of the people who'd hear if there were complaints. We don't really have titles because the group isn't an official fraternity, but for all intents and purposes Gregg is our president and I'm vice president. We're the ones people come to with problems, questions or complaints."

"So nobody had any problems, questions or complaints about the party last Friday?" Benson pressed.

"No problems and definitely no complaints. As far as questions, practically everybody asked if they could get David's number or if we knew where he lived. But Justin made it clear when he brought him that David was his, so we just told them sorry, he's already taken."

Stabler shot an amused smile at Bishop. "And everybody was willing to respect that."

Bishop shrugged noncommitally. "They had to respect it at the time. No poaching allowed at group functions. It makes for unpleasantness, and we strongly discourage unpleasantness. It's all about relaxing and having a good time with others who share your interest in that particular type of recreation. If you happen to run into somebody who was off limits at a party some other time, like on campus or at the mall or wherever, and he's open for some extracurricular activity, well, that's a different story."

"Did anybody try for extracurricular activity with David?" Benson asked.

"Man, did they! But he shot . . . ," Peterson burst in gleefully before Bishop cut him off with a withering glare.

"Really, Gregg?" Stabler said directing the easy smile at Peterson again. "Do you know who?"

"Well, um," Gregg hesitated.

"He didn't shoot you down, did he?" Stabler asked in a tone that indicated he couldn't believe that would ever happen.

Peterson's grin widened at the implied compliment and he sat a little straighter in his seat, using the movement to flex his muscles slightly as if to work out a cramp.

"Jesus Christ, Gregg," Bishop snapped with disgust. "Why don't you just ask him up to your room now and get it over with. You can spill your guts as foreplay, but I guarantee when he goes to snap the cuffs on you, he won't be playing."

Peterson's face flamed bright red and Stabler laughed easily. "As interesting as that proposition sounds, I'll have to pass."

"Yeah, I figured that," Bishop said with contempt. "I see you're wearing a wedding ring, Detective. How long you been married? How many kids you got?"

"Almost 20 years. Four beautiful kids who are the joy of my life," Stabler responded keeping the easy grin in place. He didn't think it was necessary to mention that the ink was just about dry on the divorce papers.

Peterson's face flushed a deeper red as he finally realized how completely he'd been played.

"If that's all, Detectives, we have things to do," Bishop said coolly.

"Actually that's not all," Benson cut in. "You haven't answered my question. Who out of the group made a play for David after the party, Gregg?"

Peterson glowered at her, but responded through gritted teeth, "Ben mentioned he saw him on campus a couple of days ago without Justin and decided to give it a go; he was pretty pissed - David didn't just shoot him down, he didn't even seem to remember who he was. Tommy said pretty much the same thing."

The big man flushed again as he admitted, "When I approached him, he was real polite but distant. Thanks, but no thanks."

"Did he seem upset at all?" Benson asked.

"He seemed surprised at first, then preoccupied, like he was thinking about something else entirely. I figured Justin had him on a pretty tight leash. Who'da thought?"

"Who'da thought what?" Stabler chimed in.

Peterson's face started to flush again and he looked at Benson instead of Stabler as he responded. "A stone cold fox like David wanting to be with a scrawny little runt like Justin. I mean, Justin's okay. He's always eager to play and will do whatever you want to do, but as an exclusive? Especially when you've got your choice of any of the guys at the party. You saw the video - we got some hot athletic types and some of the best looking brains on campus to choose from. I just don't get why anybody with options like that would saddle himself to Justin."

"Do Ben and Tommy have last names?" Benson asked.

"Yeah, sure. Ben Chase and Tommy DiNardo."

"Where can we find them?"

"They had class this morning, so probably somewhere on campus," Bishop cut in coolly.

"No way you can narrow that down some?" Stabler asked giving him a pointed stare.

A cold smile spread over the man's face. "Sorry."

"That's okay," Benson said easily. "I'll leave you my card and you can just have them call me when they get back."

"Sure," Bishop said taking the card and, without looking at it, stuffing it into his pocket.

Benson saw Peterson glance quickly at Stabler to see if he would offer his card, and noted the look of disappointment that momentarily crossed the man's face when he realized her partner didn't intend to. She tried to hide the smile twitching at the corners of her mouth, as she said casually, "Guess we better get going, Elliot. It doesn't look like Peter and Gregg know anything else that's useful, and we wouldn't want to keep them from their schoolwork."

"Okay," Stabler responded amenably as he unfolded himself from the chair and straightened his trenchcoat. "Oh, just one more thing, fellas," he added as though it were a simple afterthought. "Is Michael here? We were told he's the group's doctor and we need to speak to him about the treatment he gave David after the party."

Both men froze in surprise for a second then exchanged nervous glances before Bishop said hesitantly, "I don't know what you mean. Michael's not a doctor. He's pre-med, but he's not a doctor yet. He'll sometimes listen to a guy's complaints and tell him whether he should see a doctor or just take an aspirin, but anything more than that would be practicing medicine without a license."

"Hmmm. Let me guess," Stabler said, "you're pre-law, right."

Bishop responded with a glare that clearly communicated his opinion of the detective's sense of humor.

"Okay," Benson interjected. "Michael's pre-med, not a real doctor. We still want to see him. Where is he?"

"I'm right here," came a voice from the stairs in the hallway behind them. What's this about?"

The detectives turned to see the tall, blond man who had been arguing with Justin at the end of the video come down the final step from the second floor and stride purposefully into the room.

"Detective Benson. This is my partner, Detective Stabler. We'd like to speak with you for a few minutes about the party last Friday night."

The man's eyes immediately became wary, but he said with feigned casualness, "What about it?"

"Anything strike you as particularly memorable about that evening?" Stabler asked.

Michael shrugged and with the same forced casualness responded, "It was a pretty memorable evening all around. Everybody seemed to be having a great time."

"What about David Gallagher?" Benson interjected sharply. "Did he have a great time?"

The blond man shrugged again, obviously uncomfortable. "He wanted to run the gauntlet. By the time you're getting near the end, it's gotta be uncomfortable. But it was his choice to keep going. He was pretty wasted by the time it was over."

"Wasted how?" Stabler asked.

"As soon as it was over, Justin helped him lie down and he went right to sleep. Some of the other guys were disappointed because they wanted him to come play some more, but there was no way -- even if Justin would have allowed it, which he said from the very beginning he wouldn't, I wouldn't have. He'd already had enough. Any more could have done some internal damage."

"Nice to know you take the doctor's 'do no harm' mantra so seriously," Stabler said with obvious contempt.

"We were told you cleaned him up afterwards," Benson said, ignoring the unfriendly looks being exchanged by her partner and the blond.

He shrugged again. "I did the basics. There was a little bleeding. I cleaned it up and put on some antibiotic ointment. He might have had a little too much to drink too, but he was exhausted more than anything else -- I think he and Justin did some preliminary partying before the main event -- and he needed to get some sleep. Justin was ready to go all night; he was really pissed when I told him David was done for the night and he needed to leave him alone too."

"So Justin stomped off to console himself partying with the other boys while you took care of David. Did you give him any special treatment while the two of you were alone together?"

The blond's face reddened with anger. "How dare you make an insinuation like that, Detective. That guy was messed up enough as it was. I'm not the kind of person who takes advantage of someone in a situation like that."

"Michael!" Bishop's rebuke was sharp, the look on his face conveying the unspoken, watch what you're saying.

But Benson picked up the ball without a second's hesitation. "Messed up how."

"Like I said, he was really tired and he seemed a little drunk or maybe stoned. He looked okay when they first got there and Justin introduced him to everybody. He was kinda quiet and a little shy, but I think Justin was the only person he really knew and, considering what he was about to do, I figured he was pretty nervous.

"It's part of my job as house medic to keep a close eye on things during the ceremony -- mainly to make sure nobody gets too enthusiastic, if you know what I mean, but also to make sure the initiate is okay through the whole thing. We had a full house that night, so I was keeping an even closer eye out than usual. I started to get a little concerned toward the end because he was looking a little shaky, but Justin was right there with him and gave me a thumbs up when I started to come over, like everything was fine."

"So you thought David was 'shaky' and 'messed up' toward the end, but you let it go on anyway? If you're a doctor, sorry, going to be a doctor, why didn't you stop it when you saw what bad shape he was in?"

Michael was silent for a moment, a war clearly raging over his rugged features.

"Don't say anything, Mike. They're just rattling your cage," Bishop said through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, Mike. Don't say anything," Stabler mocked, the chill in his voice filling the room with ice. "That way we can take you downtown for questioning. But don't worry, we'll make sure you get a cellmate who enjoys partying as much as you do."

"God dammit, why are you trying to make me the bad guy in all this?" the blond exploded. "Justin is his boyfriend, he was right there during the whole thing, and he didn't see any reason to stop it. Why are you trying to lay this on me? I didn't do anything wrong! In fact, I was the only one who did anything to help that guy. I cleaned him up that night, read Justin the riot act to leave him alone, and when I took him home the next day, I made sure he had all the stuff he needed to take care of himself."

Benson and Stabler looked at each other, a raised eyebrow the only visible sign of their surprise.

"You took David home the next day?" Stabler asked.

"Yeah. I woke up early needing to go to the bathroom, and when I came out I saw Justin's door open and David come staggering into the hallway half dressed. He looked really wasted, like he didn't even know where he was. I went over to him and asked him if he was all right. He nodded his head and said he wanted to go home, but the way he was looking around, I didn't think he even knew where he was to get himself home.

"I told him if he'd give me a minute to get some clothes on I'd take him home. He said he needed to go to the bathroom, so I showed him where it was and left him there while I went and got some clothes on. Then I went to Justin's room to get the rest of David's clothes and the bag of medicine and stuff I'd left for him. I tried to wake Justin to let him know what was going on in case he wanted to go with us, but he was totally out of it, so I finally gave up.

"When I got back to the bathroom, David was just standing there. It was obvious he'd thrown up and he was pale and a little shaky. He said he didn't know what had happened to the rest of his clothes and his shoes so I handed them to him. I helped him get cleaned up, checked to make sure there wasn't any fresh bleeding and put some fresh ointment on him, then helped him get into his clothes. He said he was thirsty so I got him a bottle of water.

"Then we went out to the car. He told me where he lived and I took him home. I tried to talk to him a little in the car, but he was really out of it and didn't give me much more than grunts for answers.

"When we got to his place, I walked him up to his apartment, got the door open for him and walked in with him to make sure he got himself settled okay. I gave him the bag with the medicine and stuff in it, told him what he needed to do to take care of himself and left him a card with my number in case he needed any help with it. He nodded like he understood everything I said, but he kept looking around like he didn't recognize the place.

"He was acting like he was seriously hung over, so I told him he should probably go to bed. He said okay then started looking around, really puzzled, like he didn't know where the bed was. So I took him into the bedroom, helped him get his pants and shoes off and helped him into bed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow. I was a little nervous about the way he was acting, so I waited a few minutes to make sure his breathing was normal. It was, so I came back to the house and went back to sleep myself for a couple of hours."

Benson and Stabler were staring at him speculatively, and he squirmed under their steady gazes. "Look, if that's it, I really need to leave for class now."

"That's more than enough for now," Stabler said, "but I'm sure we'll have some follow-up questions later. Your name is Michael, right? Michael what?"

"Jensen, Michael Jensen."

Stabler wrote the name down in his notepad. "And where can we reach you later, Michael? You got a cellphone?"

"Yeah," the blond responded unhappily and rattled off the number.

"Thanks for your cooperation," Benson said as Jensen strode toward the front door and let it slam behind him.

"Hey, don't you need my number too," Peterson directed hopefully at Stabler.

Benson didn't miss Bishop's muttered 'idiot' and suppressed a smile as she said, "Sure Gregg, give us your number. You too, Pete. I'm sure we'll have plenty more questions for both of you later too."

"That certainly put a different spin on things," Benson said when they were back in the car.

"It doesn't change anything, Liv. Even if David seemed to be participating willingly in the make out sessions with Justin -- and everything else -- it's only because of the drugs Justin slipped him. He wouldn't have done it if he'd been in his right mind. And it seems pretty evident he was drugged from what Jenson told us about the way he was acting the following morning."

"How can you be so sure of that, Elliot?" she asked quietly, a frown creasing her forehead. "You hardly know the kid. For all you know, it was the vodka Justin fed him during the party that made him get sick."

"You read the reports of the interviews Munch and Fin did with the administrators. Every one of them says the same thing. David Gallagher is a nice, polite kid, never a hint of trouble, quiet, studious, always doing charitable work like building houses for Habitat for Humanity and tutoring disadvantaged kids, no disciplinary actions, hardly ever misses a class, 3.9 grade point average, natural leadership qualities, although he leads by example from the sidelines inside of being the guy at the front of the room. His being a willing participant in something like this just doesn't make sense."

"This wouldn't be the first time we've seen a supposedly good kid relieving the stress of trying to please the adults around him with sex and drugs."

"Who does he have to please, Liv? He's got no family left. What difference would it make to anybody but himself if he gets straight A's or straight F's. No, this kid is trying to make something out of his life. He wouldn't screw that up by getting involved with those party boys. I can feel it in my gut."

"I hope your gut's right, Ell, because mine is a little queasy right now. It's not liking what it's hearing at all. There are too many inconsistencies."

"We've got two hours before we're supposed to pick David up at the hospital. Let's see what else we can find out at the school. David mentioned he and Justin had a class together. I want to talk to the professor, see what kind of vibe he was getting from the two of them, maybe find out who David's friends are, get the dish from them on what they thought of the relationship."

Benson shrugged, "Sounds like as good a place to start as any."