A/N: I figured, realistically, sleep deprivation would not be a common factor in MCS interrogation methods…so, I began the interrogation in the morning. If someone thinks that would be inaccurate, please say so.
Sorry so long for an update, but things have been insane. I am simultaneously doing two to three hours of homework a night, and working on three different theatrical projects with my school's drama group. Forgive me.
Most of this chapter is an interrogation, so I have a lot of dialogue. Usually I try to avoid huge amounts of it, but I feel if it tells a story, all the better. Thoughts?
Spoilers: 'To The Bone'
Warning: Graphic/mature nature and content
OPP (Major Case)
Tuesday, July 18th, 8:10 AM
"Ms. Andrews." Alex said, forcing her voice to be controlled, "I'm Detective Eames. I see you haven't invoked your right to counsel."
"I've done nothing wrong."
"You left your daughter locked in a closet for four days, before leaving her in the same locked closet once you left for the last eight days. I happen to find that wrong."
"Becca…" Leona said, "When they arrested me they told me she was in ICU. Did she survive?"
Alex decided to play her cards; to test this woman's maternal emotion towards her daughter.
"I'm sorry, Leona," Alex said stiffly, "I'm afraid she didn't. The doctors did all they could for the malnourishment and dehydration, but…"
Leona simply sat there.
"My life has no purpose now," She whispered, her eyes remaining dry.
"Oh, don't worry," Alex said, her voice turning cold, "She'll be with you everytime you shoot up using the money you earned when you and Martin whored her out."
Suddenly, Leona began to cry.
"I didn't want to do that part of it. He told me it would teach her respect."
"Leona," Alex said, "You locked her in the closet, you beat her to a bloody pulp. There were untreated cuts and burns all over her, bruises in various stages of healing. All that was to teach her respect?"
"Martin told me it would," Leona whispered, "And I believed him."
Alex had found it; the smallest hint of true maternal feelings; a miniscule amount, but enough that it was worth a shot.
"I'm sorry, Leona. I lied to you," Alex said, "Rebecca is alive. She's been out of the hospital for five days now, she's in foster care. And you know what? She told my partner and I that the abuse never really got bad until you met Martin three years ago. She told me that before that, it was just the odd slap. What did Martin do? What made you change your philosophies of raising Rebecca?"
"He told me that children needed discipline," Leona said, "He showed me how to do it. She complained about dinner one night-"
"What did she say?" Alex asked, hoping her theory was right.
"That she had a huge test the next day and wanted to know if we could switch nights for who cooked. Martin explained to me…that she needed discipline; that was what she wanted. So he got me to burn her hand, on the frying pan for that time, and with greater intensity each time. He had to help me. So often I didn't know that she was complaining. I was surprised, because he was right. She didn't complain anymore after a while. She became so compliant around me, she seemed happy."
Alex hadn't expected this. She hadn't thought she would feel the slightest lenient or merciful thought towards the woman who could inflict such horrible suffering upon her own child- and yet, she could see it. She could see how clearly this woman had been manipulated.
"You started to trust his judgment. I understand. It makes sense. What other recommendations did he make?"
"He told me I should make her sleep with blankets on the floor when she wasn't thankful for her bed or other luxuries. He taught me to limit the amount of food and water Becca was given so she would learn gratitude."
Alex closed her eyes for a moment. That bastard. That bastard.
"Did Martin always have to help you identify Becca's complaining?"
"At first, but then I started to see it the way he did. How when she said she wasn't hungry or couldn't eat, she was really complaining about the food, and shouldn't get as much of it. How when she couldn't sleep she was really just not appreciating the luxury and comfort we provided her with."
"What else did he tell you to do to her?"
"That when she disobeyed in any other way, I should use a leather belt on her."
Alex nodded again, wanting to walk into the adjacent interrogation room where Bobby was trying to break Martin Sechens, and make him die a long, slow painful death, after which experiencing, he could suffer a long, painful eternity in hell for all she cared.
"So," Alex said, "When did the soliciting start?"
"I started dating Martin," Leona said, "When Rebecca was starting seventh grade. For the first year, he just taught me to discipline her. On occasion, he would do it himself. Then, right after Becca finished seventh grade, Martin moved in."
Bracing herself for the worst, Alex asked the next question
"And then what?"
"I thought I'd been doing good enough at disciplining her to improve her qualities, but Martin told me I wasn't. That there was improvement, but not enough. He started an immediate program with her- a reversal program to get rid of the evil left within her."
"And you agreed to this?" Alex asked.
"Of course!" Leona said, "I was amazed by how much time he spent- and spends- with her. He loves her so much!"
It was all Alex could do to not get sick in the middle of the interrogation room, not to release her disgust in several choking heaves. That…that…thing of a man had taken this woman and made her see evil in her child; had convinced Leona that he was doing unbelievably heinous things to her daughter out of love.
"Well, what did he do with this…reversal program?"
"He made me promise to stay out of it," Leona said, an expression of motherly love on her face, "But he'd permit me to come in once a day to see the transformation so long as I didn't speak to her."
"Come in to where?" Alex said, forcing back her disgust with all she had.
"The closet, of course," Leona said, "He kept her in there for the entire two months; it took that long to take away the evil. It was a little sad, we did have to lock her in, and at times bind her to force her not to stop the goodness we were trying to give her."
"What was in the closet?"
"The four walls and a bucket. When she did well with the day's activities, Martin would bring her food, and water. But she had to be good to get it, if she failed, she had to go without."
"What were the activities?"
She was going to be sick, and she knew it. She hated it. That beautiful little girl- that sweet, strong, amazing child…how? How could that have gone on? She didn't understand.
"He was preparing her for September. It was when we began to make her…what was the word you used? Whore her out? Anyways. She had to do whatever he said to do sexually. Let him touch her, touch him. He'd discipline her daily, too."
She couldn't do it. Alex couldn't let herself ask any more. It was too much, too much. But Leona was continuing, each word stabbing Alex through the heart.
"He loves her so much, Detective. He loved her enough to hurt her to show her what was good."
"Leona," Alex said, her voice breaking, her intonation similar to the one she used with her nephew, "Do you really believe that? He's hurt her, Leona. Rebecca's hurting. Can't you see? Look at this picture. Doesn't she look like she's hurting? Do you see any goodness in that?"
Alex slid across a photo taken in ICU for evidence; a picture of Rebecca that pulled at her heartstrings.
"She looks beautiful," Leona said, smiling, "See, Martin and I did it. She understands. We won't have to discipline her anymore. Now, please. Enough of this chitchat. I want to take my daughter home."
For the first time, Alex felt a moment of unquestionable compassion for the woman sitting across from her. She was so confused; she didn't even realize she'd hurt her daughter. How could Alex explain to her in a way Leona would understand?
"I'm sorry," Alex said, "Rebecca can't go home with you and Martin. You two are going to live somewhere else. But, I promise you, Rebecca's guardian is a wonderful man. He loves her very much."
Alex then shouted for medical assistance when Leona began to convulse.
Merchie's Coffee Shop
Tuesday, July 18th, 3:20 PM
Mike and Carolyn sat across from each other, in the café across from Elizabeth's office, waiting for the teen to finish her appointment with the psychologist."Mike," Carolyn said, "I'm transferring."
"What?" Mike said, praying she was joking; not believing.
"I'm transferring. I got the approval this morning."
"Where?"
"Brooklyn SVU."
"Why?"
"Because I try to work homicide investigations; high-profile cases, and I can't. From the moment I laid eyes on Rebecca, I had no passion for it anymore. I'm going to SVU so I can try to stop this; so I can get justice for people like Rebecca. I just…Mike…I'm sorry…"
"Damn it, Barek!" Mike said, angry now, "So, what, you're just leaving? Without even considering the effect this might have on me?"
"I'm leaving the squad, Mike. Who said anything about you? I made a promise to you that I would be a mother figure to Becky. And the more I'm around her, the more I want to do that. I'll be around, Mike. Just not on the job."
With that, Mike found himself unable to fight. That was true.
"And because of you," Carolyn whispered, her eyes tearing up, "Because I love you too much. Because I care too much."
Mike looked up.
"What the bloody hell did you just say?"
"I care too much,"
"Before that."
"I said I…lo…love you." Carolyn whispered, her voice breaking, before she started to laugh, "I never wanted to admit it to myself. I hated you at first. I thought you were a pompous jackass who didn't give a damn about anyone but himself. But I was wrong. Very wrong. And the more I tried to hate you, I guess the more I found myself falling for you…"
Carolyn blushed, taking a sip of her tea before she continued.
"And you don't have to feel the same, Mike. I completely understand if you don't. I'm not the kind of girl you'd fall for, and I know it. I can handle the fact that you don't feel the same. But I can't handle you thinking that I'm leaving because of you."
Mike laughed.
"Carrie," He said softly, taking her hand, "You think I haven't felt the same way? I liked you from the first time you started muttering to yourself at crime scenes. When do you start at SVU?"
"A week."
"This transfer…" Mike said, smiling, "Could be a good thing."
"How so?"
"I get to do this."
Later on, when Mike and Carolyn looked back on their first kiss, neither one knew who truthfully initiated it. All they remembered was that it was passionate.
And well worth a transfer.
Residence of Mike Logan
Tuesday, July 18th, 7:31 PM
Mike Logan's POV
Alex had left me a message on my voicemail; a message that would go on to haunt me.
Leona was awaiting trial in a mental institution; her trial pending on whether or not, after medicated, she was fit.
I sit across from Rebecca, watching her. I don't know how to tell her. Don't know how to explain to her how or why a woman who watched her child suffer years of abuse, just gets off with a "mentally unstable".
"Becky," I say, forcing myself to be strong, "Before Martin was around, your mom didn't do anything other than hit you, right?"
"Right." She responds, looking at me.
God, the pain in her eyes. Always, the pain.
"Do you think she started doing these things because of Martin?"
"I think it was more the drugs Martin made her do than Martin himself."
If she's repressed the beginning, I'm going to have to tread lightly around it. If she's repressed it, she's not ready to deal with it.
"At the beginning, did Martin ever tell her to do things to you?"
"He told her that the drugs he was giving her would help her obtain wisdom and goodness in raising me. The more she took them, combined with what he…brainwashed her into believing…the…more violent she got."
Rebecca's voice cracks, and her eyes lock onto mine, tears filling them, praying for any sign of comfort, or reassurance. Something that will remind her that it's okay.
"Keep going, honey."
"She let him do things to me. First he'd ask, then he'd just do it. And she'd let him…she just let him…why would she…?"
"I don't know, Becky. But I won't let it happen to you anymore. Listen, your mother, and Martin…are in custody. Sweetheart…"
God, what do I tell her? What do I say? What do I say? What do I say?
"Your mother…is very sick. She's been put into a mental institution."
Rebecca tears up; in pain, yet dignified. Hurt, yet understanding. God, I hate that part. Because she's a child, yet she's an adult.
"Martin?" She whispers through the tears.
"He's being kept in prison until the trial is finished."
She nods again, numb, the tears welling, and welling. Never released.
"Go on," I whisper, looking her in the eyes, "It's okay."
And finally, the silence is shattered. Finally, a sob. Finally…
