Chapter 11

Detective Andrew Burton had been working homicide in New York City for twenty years. He had seen it all. Even more so than any long time New Yorker, he was accustomed to violent death, from the bizarre to the mundane. Eric Dane's death hadn't been a spectacular one.

"It was a robbery, that's what it looked like and that's what it was. Two shoots at close range, his pockets were turned inside out, his wallet, cash, keys, everything gone."

Danny turned the pages of the forensics report. There wasn't much to go on. Eric Dane had been found in an abandoned lot in Brooklyn, shot between midnight and one a.m. the previous night. Over one hundred items had been picked up from the lot amongst the empty soda cans, food wrappers, scrap metal and several vodka bottles. Even if the forensic analysis had begun, the results would still take a while. This was not a rush case.

"Were there any witnesses?" Danny asked and flipped forwards in the file to find the witness's statements. The section was considerably shorter than the evidence inventory.

"The usual. No one heard or saw anything. He was found by a guy wanting to take a leak. We passed his picture around the neighbourhood, but you know how it is, freaks from all over the world come here and get killed. Not that anyone needed to give him much help. You can read the pathology report. He was as good as dead."

Danny nodded. He had read the pathology report. It didn't help them very much. Who would risk killing a dying man when simply waiting another month would solve the problem? Unless the killer hadn't known that Eric was terminally ill. "Did you look into other crimes in the area?"

"What do you think we did? Sit on our hands because he was a junkie?" This was something Andrew Burton wasn't going to stand for. Not from a fed.

"Eric Dane was a user?" Danny heard this first the first time.

"You read the autopsy report. He had needle marks on his arms and legs, liver damage. The doc said he must have been using heavily for several years," Burton told Danny with a trace of satisfaction in his voice. Danny flipped back to the autopsy report. Indeed, the ME had found scarring, indicating past drug use, but the toxicological test had come back negative. He had just picked up the file on his way down to meet Detective Burton. Reading and walking at the same time, Danny hadn't had a chance to grasp all the details. Now he took a look at the toxicology report. The standard tests had come back negative, but no detailed investigation had been undertaken, the cause of death clearly being the gunshot wounds to his torso.

oOo

Martin's eyes were burning from a combination of lack of sleep and strain. He had been staring at a computer screen for three hours, scanning through hundreds of cases of unidentified corpses that had turned up within the tri-state area. If they were lucky, his body had been found close to New York, but it was possible that they would have to widen their search all over the country. Not knowing exact time or manner of death forced him to work with a very large number of possible matches. Martin had tried to narrow it down to victims whose time of death had been estimated between early 1995 and late 1993. There were still too many, and they hadn't been able to locate Ryan's dental records yet. They had his maternal DNA through his mother, but if the bones were too old or had been exposed for too long, they could forget about a DNA comparison.

"Martin." Danny walked up to his desk. "I think I might know why they robbed the bank in the first place. Drugs. The ME found that Eric Dane was a serious user. Drugs would explain the overkill in the bank," Danny considered. Slowly the pieces were coming together as they were gathering more and more information. At the moment, they only had circumstantial evidence. They had yet to find any physical links, such as DNA or a bullet, between their suspect and the robbery. But every piece of circumstantial evidence was piling on the next, building up a solid wall. Only the blood test would confirm that at last one of the Dane brothers had been in the bank at the time of the robbery.

"Are the DNA results back yet on Eric Dane?" Danny asked while he started to look for the forensic reports in one of the many boxes of files from the original robbery investigation.

"The lab said we'd get them today. What are you looking for?"

"All the reports from forensics. Do you recall if the robbery squad had any test done on the blood from the scene?" Danny sifted through the myriad of folders.

"I don't recall reading about that," Martin said and shook his head. "We finally got a reply from Customs. Ryan Kensington has never left the US. I'm going through unidentified murder victims right now, assuming he was murdered and his body was found." Martin pinched the bridge of his nose. "I think I'm getting to old for spending the nights chasing bad guys," Martin laughed. "I'm getting a cup of coffee. Do you want one?"

"No, thanks, I had enough caffeine in the last twenty-four hours to last me all week." Danny was only-half listening, his attention still on the files. He found what he had been looking for a few minutes later. The blood found at the crime scene in the bank had been subjected to tests and it had come back positive for heroin, as well as traces of cocaine.

oOo

If Rodnina Villeroy was upset, her appearance hadn't suffered for it. Her copper hair was done up in a sleek bun and she wore a form-fitting black dress, She had clearly had other plans for the day.

"Ms. Villeroy, where did you say you met Ryan Kensington?" Vivian asked.

"You never asked where I met Ryan. If I had, I would have told you. We met at Haven House, upstate." Rodnina was a little uncomfortable with the question.

"Haven House. You were both there during June of '93."

"What are you trying to imply?" Rodnina asked, obviously having decided on the offensive strategy.

"I believe you can tell us who else was at Haven House that summer?"

"I don't know. I haven't stayed in contact with anyone from that time."

"Your scrapbook proves otherwise. Eric Dane? Does the name ring any bells? You even invited him to your New Year's party?" Vivian listed the facts, trying to get Rodnina to admit that she had known the robbers, if not known of their criminal acts.

But Rodnina was not easily impressed. "Ryan wanted to invite his friends. I might have recognized someone from the clinic, but I don't think this is relevant to the disappearance of my fiancé. Or are you saying that this man, Eric Dane, had something to do with it?"

"I don't think this is going to work. Even if she knows about the robbery," Danny said to Martin. They were watching the interrogation from outside. After Danny had uncovered the link between Rodnina and Eric in the drug treatment program at Haven House a year before the robbery, Vivian had decided to take another crack at Rodnina. For a woman grieving over the loss of her fiancé, she had left suspiciously many details out when talking to the FBI. Vivian was convinced that even if she hadn't been an accomplice, she had at least known about the plan, if not helped to fund it.

"She knows we can't prove anything," Danny agreed. "Ten years is a long time. Sometimes I hate this job."

"Danny, there is something I wanted to talk to you about," Martin said.

Danny was a bit surprised, but he agreed. "Sure, let's walk." The interview was being recorded anyways and it didn't look like Vivian was making any progress.

"So, what is it?" Danny asked, as they had walked down the corridor and arrived in a waiting area at some vending machines. Martin was counting quarters for yet another cup of coffee.

"It's about Sam," Martin admitted, now inserting the quarters into the vending machine dispensing hot drinks.

"I'm not sure I'm qualified to speak on that subject," Danny said jokingly, but he sensed Martin was serious.

"I haven't been able to reach Sam since yesterday and she's been pretty preoccupied ever since we got on this case. I was wondering whether she has been talking to you. I'm worried about her," Martin asked, waiting for his coffee to drip into the plastic cup.

"She still isn't in?" Danny was stalling for time. He would hate to betray Sam's confidence, but he too was worried for her.

"No, and I can't reach her on her cell or her home phone," Martin said and frowned. "Something's wrong."

"She has had a though time. Jack sent her home yesterday," Danny told him.

"She hasn't called you since then, has she?"

"No, I haven't heard from her. That's odd."

"I'm going to drive over and check in on her, just to make sure that everything is all right," Martin decided. "It's not like we are buried in leads at the moment. Has Jack called from Washington yet?" Martin quickly downed the rest of his coffee.

"No, but he should be on his way back by now. It is probably another dead end," Danny mused. Without any specific leads at the moment, he would go back to the pile. Although the theft of the squad car had not been published, the alert had been given out to all police stations. So far, with no results. Meanwhile, there were still reports of the odd sightings of Richard Dane and the missing Christine. Every lead had to be chased down or discredited.

oOo

"Richard, do you want to tell me what really happened?" Richard had been silent for several minutes, since he had agreed to let Christine go unharmed.

"Clyde, he killed Eric. He killed my brother!" Richard screamed. "He killed my brother and he is going to get away with it!"

"No, he isn't. I'm going to see to it that he is punished for what he did to Eric." Sam put as much confidence in her voice as she could. "Why did Eric have to die?"

"Eric didn't deserve to die, but he could never forget. He tried so hard. He had a wife, a son, a real family. He tried to get away from it all, but in reality, he couldn't forget." Richard sounded close to tears, desperate. Sam prayed that he wasn't disintegrating to the point of suicide. She needed him rational, if she had any chance of getting out of this alive and saving Megan.

"Eric was the shooter in the bank. That was what he couldn't forget."

A gunshot exploded seconds after Sam had finished speaking. A muted thump followed, then silence. Sam held her breath, cold fear holding her hostage, when suddenly heavy footfalls came from the corridor, slow and plodding. Megan staggered into the room, gun into her left hand, the right side of her jacket and blouse soaked in blood. Blood was dripping off her right hand.

"Megan, are you all right?" Sam realised how stupid the question was the moment she had spoken the words. "Megan, come on, sit down." Sam reached for her mobile phone. "I'm going to call for help."

"You can't." Megan raised the gun. Her arm was shaking, but she was pointing it straight at Sam. "If you call them now, it will all be over. The last ten years, it will have been for nothing. A copper and a fed in prison, have you thought about that? Do you have any idea what they'll do to us in there?" Megan was swaying slightly.

"Megan," Sam pleaded. "You need a doctor. Please, let me call an ambulance."

"No." Megan shook her head emphatically.

"You shot Richard in self-defence. We'll sort it out." Sam promised. "Let's get to the car, then. We can drive to a hospital." Sam improvised. Megan wasn't going to remain on her feet much longer, but she was had a gun and not much to lose.

"Gunshot wounds have to be reported," Megan laughed almost hysterically. "We'll be old women when we get out."

"Do you want to die instead?" Sam challenged her, hoping the provoke her just enough to get her to see that there was no way out.

"No," Megan replied in a small voice. "I'm tired." As if in slow motion, Megan starting to crumble.

Sam rushed towards her, catching her before she hit the ground. She safely put away Megan's pistol, before she dialled 911.

oOo

Vivian was almost relieved when Danny pulled her out of her interrogation with Rodnina. Any news of progress now would be good news. She was getting nowhere with her. All the circumstantial evidence they had found so far pointed towards Ryan having been murdered, but there was absolutely no convincing proof that he was dead, much less that Rodnina had been involved.

"Danny, what is it?" Vivian asked.

"Sam just called. You won't believe it. She has talked to Megan Tanner, a cop with NYPD and Ryan Kensington's secret lover in 1994. They were having an affair."

"And, did Rodnina know about it?"

"According to her, she did. They used to sneak up together to a cabin in New Jersey, and on the day Ryan disappeared Rodnina followed them." Danny relayed what Sam had told him in a hasty phone call.

"Well, let's see what Rodnina has to say about the other woman in her fiancé's life," Vivian replied. "Is Sam all right?" She turned around before going back into the interrogation room.

"I'm not sure. She sounded pretty upset on the phone. Apparently, she is in New Jersey at the moment. I don't know what's going on, so I contacted the local field office." There was worry on Danny's face. Sam had sounded upset and confused on the phone, but she had assured him that she was all right. Jack wouldn't be happy when he heard that Sam hadn't gone out on her own, but maybe that was what she had needed to do.

oOo

Vivian put down a can of diet soda in front of Rodnina. They had taken a break while Vivian had talked to Danny, but now, they had enough to arrest Rodnina.

"What happened on August 5th 1994?" Vivian asked.

"Ryan packed his suitcase and walked out the door. He was planning to take a flight to Singapore," Rodnina repeated her earlier statement.

"We know, Rodnina. Ryan wasn't faithful. He was having an affair with a woman called Megan Tanner. He met her the night he disappeared. Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"I wanted to know what he was doing with her that he couldn't do with me. I wanted Ryan to be happy. I would have done anything for him, but apparently I was never enough for him." Rodnina was bitter.

"You knew she was an old girlfriend of his," Vivian said. "They grew up in the same town."

"I didn't know at first, not until I made the scrapbook after Ryan was gone. I found his high school yearbook in his room. Her name was in there."

"How did you know her name?" Vivian asked. Rodnina had woven a web of lies for the past ten years, but now she was starting to trip.

"I listened to Ryan talk to her on the phone. I called her from our apartment when he thought I was still asleep. I realised he only wanted me for my money."

"You bought an apartment together. Did you think Ryan would stay with you if you shared a home?" Vivian wanted to understand Rodnina. The first time she had talked to her, she had been completely convinced of her genuine grief. Maybe part of her really was grieving for Ryan.

"There was a time when we were talking about getting married. That's when we got engaged. It was right after a visit to my parents. I hoped he was going to realise how much better his life would be with me. But I could never tell. When he still had a job, he was always working overtime and on the weekends he was working on his projects. It didn't take me long to realise that he was meeting her at the cabin. I followed them a few times."

"What was different the night Ryan was supposed to leave for Singapore?" Vivian asked gently.

"He didn't even pretend he was going to Singapore. He returned the tickets for part of the cash. The airline called me about it. I knew he wasn't going to take the job, but I didn't think he'd dare to go to the cabin." The anger was still visible on Rodnina's face, breaking her calm facade for the first time during the interview.

"You followed Ryan and you found him and Megan at the cabin that night. You waited until Megan left and confronted Ryan. Is that what happened?" Vivian asked.

"Ryan was going to leave me. He told me that he loved her, not me."

oOo

The blood kept clinging to her fingers and nails. She couldn't quite seem to get rid of it. Her clothes were ruined anyways. They were smeared where she had wiped her bloody hands, and she had used her blouse in attempt to staunch the flow of blood from Megan's wound.

The ambulance had taken almost twenty minutes to arrive. Sam had thought Megan wouldn't last that long when she had slipped into unconsciousness fast after collapsing. But Megan was still alive when help had arrived. Now Sam could only wait. The paramedics had insisted on taking her to the hospital as well, but a cursory exam had revealed that she was fine and none of the blood on her clothes and hands was her own. After two cups of coffee, Sam had even started to feel warm again. It was only the numbness she couldn't shake. It was all out now, but she couldn't quite grasp that yet. Sam shook her head. She needed some fresh air, but she wanted to be there when there was news about Megan. She felt sorry for Megan. She had always thought they were a lot alike. They had both come from similar backgrounds and worked their way up in law enforcement. Sam knew Megan, not that well, but she wasn't a bad person. Megan didn't deserve to go down for this alone. Sam longed to talk to someone--someone who wasn't holding a gun to her head. She fished in her wallet for a few quarters and went to the public telephone down the hallway.

oOo

Jack finally reached the hospital. Sam's call had reached him shortly after he had landed in New York.

Jack, I need to see you.

He had heard in her voice that something was very wrong. He still didn't know the full story of what had happened, but Sam had reassured him that she was all right. While Jack was relieved, he wasn't convinced. She might be all right physically; he hadn't heard her sound this scared since the bookstore.

Can you come to get me? Please.

Sam had sounded wounded, hurt. Jack hated to see her hurt and he hated how it tore at him. He had a wife and two wonderful daughters, but he couldn't stop caring about Sam.

Jack took the stairs two at a time, not bothering to wait for the elevator, which was stopped seven stories further up. He spotted Sam in a waiting area from the other end of a hallway, head lowered, looking much smaller than she really was. Only when he came closer, he saw how much blood was on her clothes. It had already tried to a brown-red, copper colour.

"Sam," Jack said softly.

Sam looked up. Jack could tell she had cried.

"Thanks, thanks for coming." Sam got up and gave him a quick hug. Jack could feel her tremble as they touched.

"Sam." Jack held her shoulders softly. "Are you all right? You are shaking."

Sam shook her head. "No, I'm not all right. I just want this to be over."

TBC