"Kevin Mitchell, sometime employee at Hollywood North, friend of Martin's apparently, recently fired for skimming the till. Real low-budget stuff, like at other jobs he'd had. Not a hardcore druggie, but he liked to party and didn't much like to work. Seems he'd been trying to get Martin to help him rip off the store to get even with the boss, when that didn't work he wanted to bootleg videos and DVD's to sell. Martin wasn't interested, and last Friday Mitchell tried to hit Martin up for some company money. Owed his rent or something. Maura's right, Martin didn't usually work on Fridays and Mitchell figured whoever filled in would be easy to intimidate. Anyway according to Mitchell, who I swear Nick makes most of our perps look like Mensa members, he showed up on Friday when Martin was locking up. When Martin told him to get lost Mitchell pulled out a knife to try to 'impress' him, and they mixed it up. He says he didn't mean to stab Martin, claims he was dead when he left him. But Natalie says it took Martin at least an hour to bleed out, that he probably was knocked out when his head hit the sidewalk and shock and blood loss took over from there." He followed with details of the collar, blood from Mitchell's clothing that matched Christopher's DNA, etc.
"So what you're telling me is what should have been a fistfight wound up a murder because our man wanted to 'impress' his friend?"
"Or maybe it's what he'd like us to believe. Thing is, Martin was supposed to have just locked up but no keys were found on the body or anywhere in the area; you saw how we went over the place with a fine-tooth comb the night of the murder, so after we heard Mitchell's story we went back again. Like magic, shazam, the keys had turned up, wiped clean, conveniently lying in the gutter by the front door of the store. The gutter we'd already searched twice, and come up empty. Owner found the keys on Wednesday, between the time we first questioned Mitchell and when we arrested him next day."
Wheels turned in Nick's head. "So what put you onto Mitchell in the first place?"
"Store owner, told us he'd been in Martin's face. Darren Brown's his name, he's pretty broken up over this. Really fond of Martin, saying over and over he should've had it out with Mitchell himself, called the cops, anything."
"Could he have been in this with Mitchell, insurance or something?"
"I don't think so partner, you didn't talk to him. It's like he's lost his son or something."
"Okay. But if Mitchell is making it sound like a stupid accident, what about the keys?"
Schanke snorted on the other end of the phone. "Like I said, this guy ain't exactly the Einstein of crime. I figure, and I'm not the only one, he took the keys off Martin after the fight and thought he'd wait a few days to maybe go back and clean the place out, maybe Martin's apartment too . Figured he was dead anyway, why not come out ahead? You know how this type is. Guess he didn't figure on Brown telling us about him harassing Martin. Maybe he didn't know Martin had told the boss."
"So why didn't Brown get involved sooner? It was his store Mitchell wanted to rob, after all."
"Martin told him he'd handle it, Mitchell was his 'fucked up loser friend' and he'd straighten him out." Nick could fairly hear his partner shaking his head sadly. "Woulda, shoulda, coulda. So how's Maura holding up?"
"The funeral was more of a social gathering of Christopher's friends and family. Nice people, they took Maura in like one of their own. And me too. She was wound pretty tight until the trip back, but I think she managed to drain some of the poison out last night. We'll see."
"We're gonna have to talk to her, officially and all, to see if she knew this guy Mitchell."
"I know. I'll talk to her, we can arrange for her to be interviewed at the precinct. I'll be back at work tomorrow, anyway."
"Okay, man. Look, about Maura," Schanke sounded awkward.
"What is it Schank?"
"Give her a hug for Myra and me, okay? Just, well, you know,…"
"Yeah, I know. Thanks for both of us. See you tomorrow."
When he joined Maura in the bedroom she'd finished unpacking. It had taken a huge effort for her not to eavesdrop on his phone conversation. "Thanks for the privacy. I know it wasn't easy."
Now she stood still, waiting. "Tell me."
So he did, as much as was certain. Her expression registered disbelief, then disgust.
"Kevin? Kevin killed Christopher? That fucking loser?" She went on to describe how he'd hung around a few times while she was visiting at the store, always with some filthy stupid comment or other. "Too stupid to even pretend to play, you know? Yeah, Christopher told me how Kevin was after him like they'd pull off the crime of the century to 'show Brown who's the real boss'. Shit, Kevin was busted cold, he practically emptied the till one night and Brown called him on it. He'd known for awhile some was missing here and there but let it slide." She sat down heavily on the bed. "Fucking bloody mother of hell. Kevin. Y'know he probably told the truth, he was fucking around and flashing his blade and trying to be a man, you know, and something went wrong. And it's definitely not beyond him to take advantage even with Christopher lying there, to 'find the upside' like he always said. 'Everything has an upside'. Fucking cannibal, killing his own friend and then using him to try and steal!"
"Well according to Schanke Mitchell is so stupid this should be a slam dunk. He'll be going away."
"But not for life. It wasn't premeditated."
"So he says."
"You'll believe him when you meet him. He couldn't premeditate a trip to the bathroom after a case of beer." Maura seemed to be staring intently at a fixed point in middle space. Nick went to her and stroked a hand through her hair.
"Well we have him, anyway. You should call his family tomorrow and tell them."
"Yeah. Hey guys, good news, the guy that Chris brought home for Thanksgiving last year cut him up and left him to bleed to death. They'll be so relieved it was someone he trusted, someone they'd welcomed into their home," the bitterness was spewing out of her and Nick stepped back as she sprang to her feet.
"Where are you going?" he asked, "it's late."
She stopped short and looked hard at him for a moment. Then her expression gentled, she touched his cheek with a sad smile. "Need some air, Bats. Don't worry. Maybe I'll go to the club and decompress with some music."
"I'll drive you."
"Uh-uh. You've done enough. Plan your stuff for tomorrow, I know how you work. You'll want all sorts of shit in precise order on paper before you go in. I'll get a cab, Vash or Miklos can bring me home. Okay?"
Something felt uneasy, but then nothing had been "easy" for the past week. "Okay. You call if you change your mind, right?"
She kissed him, wrapped him up in a close hug. "Right. Love you."
"You too."
She was halfway down the stairs when he called to her. "Maura?" He stood by the gallery railing to look down at her.
"Yeah?" She looked interrupted in a serious venture.
He puzzled a moment, staring. "Nothing. Keep a clear mind."
She shook her head with a "huh?" expression. "Always." The cab arrived in minutes.
"CERK studios," she told the driver.
It was only the second time she'd gone there to see him. The first time was when she and Nick had mended their separation, and she and LaCroix had agreed to their standoff. As before, he wasn't surprised to see her.
"I got your message," she told him as she sat in the interview chair. He was through for the night, the automated broadcast switched on.
"And you have discovered who dispatched your friend."
"A pretty word for a stupid, useless death."
LaCroix relaxed back in his seat, not quite in the mood for his usual fencing match. "Most mortals can't conceive of a 'useful' death."
"We both know I'm not 'most mortals', LaCroix." She wasn't in a game playing mood, either.
"So... what brings you here?"
"I've been thinking about your offer."
"I don't recall making an 'offer'." But he understood the reference.
"Your suggestion, then." She took a breath, gathering her thoughts. And her rage, pain, and hatred. "Oh yeah, it's still in my mind. I don't know that it ever left, really. All the time on the way to New Hampshire, at the gathering, the way back… you could say it's been my constant companion. I can't say I knew what you meant, until Nick talked to Schanke when we got back tonight, and then told me about it. You were right of course, it was someone he trusted. And right also that 'never' is a long time."
"So you've come to ask what you would 'never' ask."
"Right again. A favor only you can grant, and you only think you know what it is." LaCroix's inquisitive expression invited her to continue. "You know I want him dead. You think I want you to do it, a perfect crime that nobody would dare investigate, that could never make trouble for Nick's job. You could even make the asshole disappear, so far gone nobody would find him even if they looked far and long. And really, who would miss him enough to do that?"
"If I'm wrong in my assumption, what did you have in mind? I confess I'm intrigued."
"Bring him across." The words were as firm as they were casual. LaCroix's stunned expression was one Maura was sure he hadn't worn in decades, perhaps centuries. "Well at least I've lived long enough to see that. I truly believed you'd lost your capacity for surprise, LaCroix."
"So did I," he admitted, casting aside his usual grand demeanor. He paused, considering the possibility. "I can't say I'd find such an… inferior creature to be a welcome addition to the Community, though it's true if abandoned upon creation his torment would be immediate. And, of course, eternal."
Maura shook her head. "Not quite what I had in mind. The Community doesn't need another carouche, anyway. I was thinking more in terms of… lex talionis?"
"An eye for an eye, but in what sense? Now I am intrigued. How do you propose to evenly balance your friend's murder with his murderer's death?" He didn't fail to notice the coldness in her eyes as she leaned forward.
"By his suffering. I want you to bring him across, and shut him out. More to the point, I want to shut him out." He still appeared puzzled. "Jesus, do I have to draw you a map? You bring him across, it will be a cinch to appeal to his idiot ego with promises of eternal life, power, money. And women. Especially women. If it weren't for his undoubtedly microscopic dick he wouldn't have a brain at all."
Unable to suppress a smile, LaCroix observed, "You do enjoy a colorful turn of phrase" He pasted on a serious expression and waited for her to continue..
"Gee thanks. So he gets one night, just one, under your dark tutelage, endless promises of his eternal life to come, then just before sunrise we meet somewhere where I can look him in the eye as I trap him out in the sunlight and watch him roast."
LaCroix experienced a very genuine shudder. "My dear, much as I hate to admit it, your formula for vengeance exceeds my wildest imagination. Perhaps the Enforcers are wrong about you…"
Maura sat up straighter and smirked. "Come on, you know that's bullshit. I harbor no ill intent toward the Community, not even you, LaCroix, after all of your creative torments. Let's just say I've been extraordinarily inspired to break from character."
LaCroix's gaze narrowed. "You can't possibly believe you can keep this from Nicholas. The smallest drop of your blood will tell him everything. Would you really endanger all you hold so dear to do away with some inconsequential creature? Someone who would undoubtedly spend the rest of his life in prison, even when left to the devices of this feeble mortal 'law'?"
"Not good enough." Maura could feel her face harden with her voice. "He's not 'inconsequential' to me. Think, LaCroix, what punishments could you devise for anyone who destroyed Janette? Or Nick?" Suddenly LaCroix seemed to go dark all over, shut up in his own visions. Maura continued, "So. Understand now? Don't bother to answer. And given my string of rather profound 'disappointments' at Nick's hands, this one thing might just break us even don't you think? I can keep my blood from Nick until we get the job done, in any case. 'Not tonight dear' doesn't only work on mortals."
LaCroix seemed to be warming to Maura's proposal. "How do you propose I seduce our target across when he is in police custody?" he wanted to know.
"They gotta bring him to court, don't they? Help him 'escape', do your little hypno thing on the guards, convince them he overwhelmed them or whatever. Then you can tell him, I dunno, you were impressed to read about him, he'd be such an asset to the realm of the undead, blah, blah."
LaCroix looked as if he smelled something bad. "Really, Maura."
"Well shit, you'll think of something. You've had over 2000 years of nefarious pursuits to draw on! One thing is essential though… you can't let him kill."
Raised eyebrows. "And precisely how am I to seduce him without allowing him to experience a kill? He must feed soon after I bring him across or he'll simply die. Oh, no, I refuse to feed Nicholas's bovine vintage even to this one!"
She was shaking her head, the picture of disappointment. "LaCroix, LaCroix, you're really beginning to look more like an ancient amateur every time you open your mouth."
This annoyed him. "Well then, whose blood shall I feed to him?"
"Mine." Not surprised this time, rather LaCroix betrayed an expression of undisguised admiration.
"And the new moon is in two days…"
"Dawn breaks, you should pardon the expression. Yeah, I'll get Natalie Lambert to bottle up a pint of mine, tell her it's for reserve for Nick for special occasions or something else suitably kinky that she'll believe right away. Even if she tells Nick, I'll be covered, but my guess is she wouldn't mention something so intimate. You just feed my 'vintage' to Kevin, and he'll be a goner. Stupid, and stoned, and ready for me by sunrise."
LaCroix was shaking his head slowly. "Poor Nicholas. He truly has no idea who it is that shares his existence, does he?"
"Oh, I think he does. He just won't admit it to himself. Look, you folks did all your dirty deeds for sport. I don't pretend to be noble, but I believe this will serve a larger purpose. Because if Kevin would do this to Christopher, he'd do it to anyone else too. Not to talk you out of it, but I see it as doing my part to clean up humanity."
LaCroix hesitated a moment, then spoke against his better judgment and darker nature. "This all sounds perfectly engaging and logical. It would of course exact a fitting revenge upon the one who killed your friend. But how will you consider it later, when your passion for revenge has cooled? Will you weep for Nicholas's forgiveness, as he has wept for yours, having broken a sacred trust between you?" Maura could hear the satiric edge returning to LaCroix's voice but she wasn't playing. The levelness in her own voice surprised even her.
"I'll burn that bridge when I come to it."
And LaCroix never doubted for a moment that she would.
It was nearly 3:30am by the time Maura got home. She expected to find Nick waiting up, but he'd left a candle burning for her at the foot of the stairs in the darkened loft. She got changed quietly and slipped into bed; Nick was still awake and she jumped a mile when he asked, "Everything okay, Sweet?" then apologized profusely for startling her.
"Yeah, everything's fine." She snuggled into his arms, head on his shoulder, feet tangled with his. "I skipped the club, had the cab drop me at the beach and told him to come back and get me. I was gonna walk, but just sat there on a bench listening to the waves." It should have disturbed her how easily the lies came (she'd abandoned the original lie as too easy to disprove) but some inner switch seemed to have been turned off. A lie was a lie; if she was going to sink that low it might as well be one that stood a snowball's chance of surviving a few days. She felt his kiss against her forehead.
"How you doing, huh? It couldn't have been easy hearing what happened, what's going on in your head?"
"I don't wanna get into it just yet. I'm still sorting it out." Liar. She had it sorted out just fine, down to the last moment of Kevin Mitchell's miserable excuse for a life.
"Okay. Will you come with me to work tomorrow? We have to take a statement about Mitchell, find out what you knew about it."
"Okay. When do you think he'll be arraigned?"
"Once we get your statement… day after tomorrow I guess. Why?"
"No reason. Sooner this gets over the better." Finally she was telling the truth.