KENWOOD POLICE STATION

OCTOBER 22ND, 1997

8.51PM

'I'm sorry to wake you, but I thought you'd want to know that I've just spoken with your father over the phone. Aside from being very surprised at hearing from me, of all people, that you'd been arrested, he did confirm your story. He said he'll be here as soon as he can to see you, but he couldn't vouch for your whereabouts the night the Reverend died, so you're still in trouble, Samuel.'

He had been trying to get some sleep on the thin mattress in his cell when he was woken by Mulder. He sat up, rubbing at his eyes and yawning.

'I guess I should thank you, but of course he confirmed what I told you. I hope you're not surprised, I've never lied to you,' he replied, meeting Mulder's eyes.

'That's open to debate,' he muttered, leaning tiredly against the side wall, 'Anyway, Detective Pryce is beginning to feel the pressure from above about this, and until we find some new evidence, it's not looking promising. I have to be honest with you, Samuel, I don't know what else to do.'

Samuel shook his head and sighed. 'I prayed for Agent Scully. She's awake now?'

'Yes. She regained consciousness a while ago.'

'I'm pleased. Really I am. It shows the Lord is listening.'

'I'm not so sure He is,' he muttered absently. 'You're saying she's awake because of you?'

Samuel shrugged. 'That's not for me to say. That kind of thing is ultimately God's choice. I've learned not to question His plans. All I can do is ask Him. "Ask and it shall be given unto you", Matthew 7:7. Don't you read the scriptures at all?'

'Not my usual bedtime reading, no.'

'Agent Mulder!' The shout broke the heavy silence that was beginning to descend in the cell, and a part of Mulder was glad for the interruption.

'Be right there!' he yelled back. 'Listen, Samuel, I'll be taking Agent Scully home soon, but I'll still try and do whatever I can for you. I'll come see you before we leave, okay?'

'Sure,' he sighed, 'I guess you did your best. It's a pity no-one ever believes you, hey? If everyone knew what was going on in your head…'

Mulder wasn't really listening as he started to pull the cell door behind him.

'Hey! What about a lawyer? Don't you think I'd better get one if I'm going to be charged with murder?'

'You're not being charged yet,' Mulder replied.

He smiled knowingly. 'You'd better go see what they want,' he finished, lying back down on the bed and closing his eyes.

Mulder looked at him, puzzled, then went outside to join Pryce and Callahan, who had obviously recovered from whatever had ailed him.

'We're off for the day now. I just wanted to let you know before we went that Samuel is being charged with murder,' said Callahan.

No, Samuel is not psychic. He can't be, thought Mulder. This was just the logical conclusion to the case, surely. But still…

'But you haven't even found the needle yet, how can you charge him without even establishing if he even had access to medical supplies?'

'According to the DA, we already have enough to set the ball rolling. We're starting on the murder weapon tomorrow; a search warrant is being arranged for Samuel's hotel room and the crime lab are going through the trash tomorrow, too. We're lucky they don't pick it up 'till next week. We're confident that a conviction will be obtained.'

Mulder felt the delicate bloom of hope that had been starting to grow in his heart slowly withering. What could Samuel ever do for Scully if he was in prison? Anyway, he was innocent, and young. His whole life ahead of him…

'Can't you buy me just a while longer? Delay things? I'm going home soon anyway. Let's just establish means first, at least. It's a huge potential hole in your case. I really don't believe Samuel did this.'

Pryce broke his silence thus far. 'Look, Agent Mulder, I'm sorry, but we have other important cases pending, too. We've explained how overstretched we are. This case has already taken up way too much of our time.'

'I appreciate your problems, but don't you think it would be more of a waste of time if you were to build a case only to have it thrown out in the first hearing?'

Callahan blew out an angry breath. 'You just don't get it, do you? This is a local police matter, Agent Mulder. With respect, I suggest that you and Agent Scully leave now and let us handle it from here. If you don't, I'm afraid we may need to lodge a complaint with your superiors.'

'Don't threaten me, Detective. We are well within our rights to be here.'

'Look, you call it whatever you like. Just make sure you're on the next plane.'

Callahan had clearly said all he was going to on the subject. He buttoned his coat and stalked off toward the door.

'Come on, this is ridiculous. You have circumstantial claptrap, at best, and you must know that. I don't understand why you can't hold off a little longer. I don't even understand how you managed to convince the DA to prosecute this based on what you have so far,' said Mulder.

Pryce hunched his shoulders and rolled his eyes impatiently. 'Look, Agent Mulder, although I think Callahan is a touch…sensitive…right now, I do agree with what he said. This is our case now, and we're charging him. At the end of the day, if he's innocent, he'll be acquitted and at least we've got the pressure off our department. Besides, I believe he's guilty. You've provided no other evidence, and we certainly haven't found anything to lead us in another direction. A little work will no doubt uncover the needle and even if it doesn't, we still have everything we need - including a confirmation of his being at the crime scene around the time of death from his own mouth. You can't prosecute a case on theories. We need you to turn over a copy of Samuel's case file and the autopsy reports to the DA before you leave. I'm sorry.'

Mulder sighed in defeat. Maybe if Scully were here right now, she'd be encouraging him not to give up, giving him the support and advice that he hadn't realized he depended on so much. He doubted whether he'd have fought for so long against all the obstacles put up against him in the past if she hadn't been with him. Keeping that promise was going to be a lot tougher than she could ever imagine.

'Sure. I'll bring them by tomorrow.' He hoped Callahan wouldn't be here, he'd seen enough of the man to last a lifetime. Anger at his behavior flashed through him again, especially as he saw him as being the main block to freeing Samuel and ultimately saving Scully. 'Do me a favor though, make sure Callahan isn't around. I can do without another confrontation right now.'

'Yeah, sure. Look, I really am sorry about him,' said Pryce with a glance at the door through which Callahan had just left. 'His little girl died a couple of months back. He'd kill me for telling you, so please don't let on you know, okay? He's a good guy, and a great cop, but he hasn't been the same since he came back to work after the funeral. You really haven't caught him at his best.'

As if Mulder didn't feel like shit as it was. 'Oh Jeez, I'm sorry. I had no idea.'

Pryce shrugged. 'Why would you? He doesn't like to talk about it. I just don't want you to leave here thinking badly of him. His judgment may be a little screwed right now, but I'm still backing him on this.'

'Yeah, I understand. I guess maybe I'd feel the same way if I were in your shoes,' he admitted, though it cost him something to do so. 'What happened to her?'

'Leukemia. She had it for a long time. The doctors did all they could, but Callahan still blames himself. Reckons he didn't do enough, you know how it is.'

'There's nothing you can do, except pray and hope that everything turns out okay,' said Mulder, thinking of Scully. 'How old was she?'

'Marlena? Six. Lovely kid. Always smiling, always cheerful, right up to the end. You know, for a while she was starting to improve and everyone thought she'd really turned a corner. Then she just deteriorated again, really quickly. She died soon after. You know, it's funny,' Pryce said with a vague, nostalgic kind of smile, 'his wife really believed in all this healing crap. Course he thought she was out of her tree, but she convinced him to take Marly to a faith healer, and no-one was more surprised than him when the kid actually showed some improvement. That's some kind of irony, huh? Though I guess it was just a coincidence, what with her still having the chemo too, you know.'

'He took her to see a healer? You mean crystals, auras, chakras, that kind of thing?'

'No, it was a minister, I think,' he answered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. 'He used to take her to the meetings. I'm not sure who he saw though, he never really talked about it much. He's kind of a private guy. It must have been someone local though. There's a hell of a lot of them around here.'

'Why local?'

Pryce turned up his collar and started towards the door. Mulder went with him. 'He hasn't been having much luck with his car, keeps saying he's going to trade it in for a mule one of these days. Besides, she wasn't well enough to fly anywhere, and he never stayed away with her, so...'

A thought shifted deep in Mulder's mind, a dark thought that grew in strength and rationality as it moved closer to the surface, creating ripples of consequences that he needed time to consider. He couldn't believe it hadn't occurred to him before.

Trust your instincts.

'I'm sorry,' Mulder muttered, staring into thin air, his thoughts elsewhere.

'I think you need to tell him that, hey?' said Pryce, pushing the door open and stepping into the frigid, but beautiful moonlit night. The tail-lights from a car waiting to pull out into the street were dimmed through the cloud of oily-grey fumes pouring from the exhaust. It was Callahan's. Mulder stared at it distractedly as Pryce continued. 'By the way, how is Agent Scully?' His breath condensed and curled away as he hunched his shoulders and shivered.

Callahan's engine squealed in protest as he pulled off in a shower of gravel. Mulder watched him go.

'She's awake now, feeling better, thanks for asking.'

'Good. Tell her I was asking. I'll see you with those files tomorrow.'

Mulder had forgotten the last time he'd had a good night's rest. He couldn't wait to get back to the hotel room, not just to take Scully's advice and have a shower, but also just to crawl into bed. He made it back in record time. Locking the door behind him and engaging the chain, he undressed and put his suit into the laundry hamper before taking a long, hot shower.

He groaned with pleasure as the heat and pressure of the water massaged his aching shoulders and warmed his bone-cold muscles. As he stood there, closing his eyes and letting the water and steam cleanse and relax him, his thoughts turned to his conversation with Pryce. Something about Callahan's whole attitude since they had arrived had bothered him, and the reason for it was now becoming clearer.

Callahan had wanted this case open and shut as quickly as possible right from the start, but maybe not because of some jurisdictional problem, but to be rid of himself and Scully. What if Reverend Cork had been the minister who had conducted the healing meetings for his daughter? If the Reverend had failed him, just at the time when he thought his daughter's health was improving, he could be glad he was dead and so wanted the kind of closure to his pain that a speedy arrest and conviction could bring. Whether or not the suspect was actually guilty may not be a consideration.

But there was also another explanation. What if Callahan's sense of justice ran in a deeper vein?

Mulder shivered, maybe from the cooling water. He stepped out of the shower and wrapped himself in a towel. Standing on the ice-cold white tiles of the bathroom floor, he wiped the condensation from the mirror. Scully was right, he did look terrible. And he was going to look a lot worse before long, if he lost her. He had images of himself sitting alone in his apartment or at Casey's drinking himself into stupors, trying to avoid facing a life that no longer held any meaning for him.

But what of his promise to Scully? What would she say if she knew the dark nature of the thoughts swimming through his mind, scavenging for the last few pieces of hope, devouring them as if they meant nothing? She'd probably tell him to stop feeling sorry for himself and pull himself together; that there were still people who needed him, who were depending on him finding the truth - his mom, Samantha, Skinner; and he owed a hell of a lot more to Byers, Frohike and Langly. He still had a chance to make a difference, if for no-one else's sake then for her's. He owed her that much, surely.

An awful nausea suddenly arose within him, a sickening emptiness that sucked the strength from his legs and he had to lean onto the washbasin for support as he fought to breathe. The room was so small, so cloying, the air so heavy.

'Please…please God,' he whispered, 'please don't take her away from me.'

He reached for the cold water tap, turned it on full, and splashed his face until it stung, then opened the cabinet to get his razor to shave. He thought that maybe if he did something normal, something routine, then that hollow feeling would go and he'd be able to concentrate on the new avenues that had opened up to him about Callahan. Maybe he could even get Samuel released, and maybe there would still be hope for her.

After ordering some sandwiches from room service and curling himself up on the bed, he dialled the hospital and asked to speak to Scully. Whoever answered didn't seem happy about it – he hadn't noticed how late it was – but Mulder didn't care. He needed her. As long as she was already awake, which he knew she would be.

'Hello?'

'Hey, it's me. How you doing?'

'I'm okay. You won't be though if you ring this late again. The nurse looked homicidal when she brought the phone in.'

'As long as I didn't wake you.'

'No, I couldn't sleep. I was just sitting here watching an old movie, which wasn't any good anyway. I'd rather talk to you.'

'I've got some news on the case for you. Samuel is being charged with the Reverend's murder, and there's not much we can do about it. Believe me, I've tried. It's been turned over to local police.'

She sighed. 'You must have known it was coming, Mulder. They have a fairly good case, albeit a circumstantial one. I know it's not what you wanted, but you have to accept the possibility that Samuel is guilty.'

'I don't know. Maybe things aren't so black and white, Scully. I found out why Callahan seems to hate my guts so much.'

'Really? This should be worth hearing.'

'It's nothing personal, it might surprise you to know.'

'Yeah, it does.' He could almost hear her smiling. 'Go on.'

'Well, it's to do with his daughter, Marlena. She died two months ago of leukemia. But get this, Scully: Callahan started to take her to see a healer and shortly afterwards, she began to deteriorate rapidly. She died soon afterward. What if this case is touching a nerve with him because he sees us as defending the type of person who he sees as responsible for his daughter's death? I guess he feels betrayed because the healer he took his daughter to couldn't do anything for her.'

'Now I see where you're coming from. You think that healer was Reverend Cork, don't you?' She was curious rather than cynical.

'It's certainly plausible, it's something we can easily check out. Just hear me out a second. Two months ago, Marlena died. Two months ago Reverend Cork started receiving those letters. No-one else was present the night that Reverend died. There's no evidence that anyone else was there, and nothing to prove Samuel did it. No-one thought to search the two detectives though, did they?'

Scully considered it for a second. 'Alright, Mulder, if Callahan murdered the Reverend, when did he have the opportunity? Pryce said he didn't leave his post all night.'

'If he trusts his partner as much as I trust you, he could have left him just for a second to get something to eat, or to go to the bathroom and when he returned, Callahan would have said that nothing happened and Pryce would have believed him.'

'This theory is based on the fact that Pryce is lying, Mulder. Surely he would have said something by now?'

'Not if he thinks it was irrelevant. And his instinct would be to protect his partner. The only way we'll know for sure is to speak to him.'

'I still think that he would have had suspicions when the person they're supposed to be guarding ends up dead. Especially under such strange circumstances.'

'Maybe he does, but he doesn't want to acknowledge them. Callahan has been through a lot lately, Pryce's probably trying to protect him. He must have thought it was his lucky day when Samuel turned up, Scully, which is why he's so anxious to charge him, to lay blame elsewhere and redirect attention from himself. The more I think about it, the more plausible it gets.'

She sighed. 'I don't know, I can't advise you anymore, Mulder. I'm not there to see things the way you do. You know what my thoughts are, but if you believe there's something there, go for it. It has to be worth a try.'

Mulder smiled. Just a few words of encouragement were all he needed. 'Look, you're sounding tired, and it's late. I'll come and see you in the morning. Try and get some rest, okay?'

'Yeah, I will. Thanks for calling, Mulder. Don't let them frighten you off, by the way. Call me whenever you want to. I could use a friendly voice in this place.'

He laughed softly. 'I may just do that. Goodnight, Dana.'