Chapter 4
Lennox-Hill Hospital
Friday, April 20
Olivia and Elliot stood outside Isaiah Jaslow's room in the pediatric intensive care unit. The boy's dark hair contrasted sharply with his deathly-pale skin and the white of the pillow case. Elliot clenched his fists as he watched the boy's parents weep over the corpse of their dead son. It just wasn't right. No parent should have to bury his or her child.
"He just lost too much blood."
The voice behind them startled both of them, and they whipped around to see a doctor in a white lab coat standing behind them. His blue eyes looked weary, and he walked as if he had a heavy weight on his shoulders. He held out his hand to Elliot. "Dr. Bradshaw."
Elliot took it with a half smile. "Detective Stabler, and this is my partner, Detective Benson."
"What happened, Doctor?" Olivia asked.
"He lost too much blood at the scene. We got him into surgery as soon as we could, but the bullet ripped up his spleen and liver. We tried transfusions, but his blood pressure plummeted as soon as we got him on the operating table." The handsome doctor held up a plastic bag with a bullet inside. "I'm assuming you want this."
"This is it?" Elliot reached out and took it from the doctor's outstretched hand. He held it up to the light and frowned. "That's sniper ammo."
"Our guy's a sniper?" Olivia looked at him incredulously.
"A well-trained one, too." Elliot stuffed the bag in his pocket and looked up at the doctor. "Thank you, Doctor."
Bradshaw nodded. "Glad to help." With that, he turned on his heel and disappeared around the corner.
Precinct 16
Friday, April 20
Elliot quickly downed the rest of his sandwich and glanced across the room at Munch and Fin. Munch was talking animatedly on the phone with the ballistics lab, and Fin was entering data in the display computer next to his desk.
"Lab says that the slug was definitely sniper caliber," Munch announced as he replaced his phone on its cradle. "It's in good enough shape for a ballistics match once we find the gun."
"I still think it has something to do with those anti-Semitic groups," Olivia piped up from her desk.
"Could be," Cragen said as he joined his detectives. "But unless we can link that guy to one of those groups, we'll never know."
"So what do we have?" Elliot asked as he leaned on his desk.
Fin jabbed his forefinger at the board. "Male, brown hair, about six feet tall, carrying a big black duffle bag."
Olivia leaned back in her chair. "And we're just assuming he's got the rifle in there?"
"It's certainly big enough to carry it when it's been broken down. Even a standard-caliber rifle is pretty big." Elliot interlaced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his own chair.
"Morales picked him up on one of the red light cameras walking east on Eighty-seventh, past Park Avenue," Munch said as he rested against Olivia's desk.
Cragen sighed. "There's a metro station on Eighty-sixth. If he took the subway, there's no way we can track him down."
"Maybe he didn't. Maybe he hopped a cab, like everyone else in this city," Munch replied.
"Maybe. We know he crossed Park Avenue. Canvass the neighborhood. See if anyone spotted this guy."
EZ Mart
10 E. 87th Street
Friday, April 20
"If we don't find this guy soon, my feet are gonna fall off," Munch grumbled as he pulled open the door to the third bodega on their canvass.
"That's what happens when you get old," Fin retorted. "Your mind goes first, then your joints."
"Few more years and you'll be in the wheelchair right next to me, my friend."
The blonde teenager at the counter didn't even glance up as the two detectives approached him. His head bobbed up and down in time with the beat of the heavy-metal music streaming through his headphones.
"Hey," Fin said loudly.
The teen didn't even look up.
"Hey!" Fin banged on the counter with his fist, and the kid jumped.
"What the hell?" he muttered as he pulled his headphones out of his ears.
Munch flashed his badge at the teen. "I'm Detective Munch, this is Detective Tutuola. We have some questions we want to ask you."
"Dude. Is that real?"
"Yeah, it is," Fin answered, shooting his partner a quick glance.
"How can I help you, Detectives?"
"We're looking for this guy." Munch shoved the picture from the jewelry store security at the kid.
He squinted for a minute, then glanced up at the detectives. "Not exactly the greatest picture in the world."
"Did anyone come in here with big black duffel bag?" Fin asked.
The boy thought for a minute and nodded. "Yeah, I remember him. Came in this morning around eight or so, bought a pack of donuts."
"Cash or credit?"
"Cash."
"Damn," Munch muttered. He sighed and lifted his frustrated eyes toward the ceiling. Suddenly he narrowed his eyes. In the corner facing the counter was a security camera, its red recording light blinking every couple of seconds. "Is there any way we can get those security tapes?"
When Elliot and Olivia returned from canvassing the neighborhood, they found their fellow detectives huddled together in front of the computerized board next to the desks. "Find anything?" Olivia asked as they joined Munch and Fin.
"Only half a dozen teenage kids buying boxes of condoms," Fin answered. "I swear, one of those kids couldn't've been older than fourteen."
"Kids today," Elliot replied with a grin.
"Well, if I have to watch one more security tape, I'm gonna go crazy." Munch rubbed his head.
"Too late," Fin shot back.
"Hey, what was that?" Olivia pointed at the screen, her brow furrowed. "Go back a couple frames."
Munch hit a couple of keys on the keyboard, and the tape whirred as it rewound.
"Stop!" Olivia ordered.
The frame froze.
"Go forward."
Shooting a strange look at his colleague, Munch hit a couple of keys, and the video slowly moved forward. All four detectives leaned forward, intently gazing at the screen.
"There!" Olivia shouted, pointing at the screen.
Munch hit the pause button, and the screen froze again.
"Well I'll be damned," Fin muttered.
A man stood at the counter, a large black duffel bag slung over his shoulder and his head covered by a black baseball cap. Every detail of his thin face could be clearly seen on the tape.
Elliot allowed a slow smile to spread across his face and hit a key. The computer zoomed in on his face. "We got him."
"Yeah, but keep watching." Olivia reached over and hit a key. In slow motion, their suspect handed the cashier some bills, grabbed his bag, and walked out the door. The detectives watched intently as the suspect held up his hand. A bright yellow cab pulled up next to the curb, and their suspect quickly opened the door.
"There goes our suspect," Elliot muttered.
Fin reached over and paused the tape. He hit another couple of keys, and the tape zoomed in to the door of the cab. "And there goes the medallion number. ZL165."
Olivia grabbed her jacket off the back of the desk chair, Elliot close on her heels. "We're on it."
NYC Taxi and Limousine Commission
Friday, April 20
"Can I help you?" The uniformed taxi dispatcher barely looked up as Elliot and Olivia entered her office.
"NYPD," Elliot replied, flashing his badge. "I'm Detective Stabler, and my partner, Detective Benson."
She glanced at the badge and gave him an overly-friendly smile. "How can I help the NYPD?"
"Who's the hack for medallion number ZL165?"
The dispatcher narrowed her eyes slightly. "What's this all about?"
"We just need to ask him a couple of questions," Olivia said smoothly. "His name?"
She stared at the detectives for a moment, then turned to her computer and hit a couple of keys. The machine beeped at her, and she leaned forward a little in her chair. "Mike Kolinsky."
"He workin' today?" Elliot asked.
The dispatcher checked the log in front of her and nodded. "Yep. He's out on a call now."
"Call him back."
Her eyebrows went up nearly to her hairline. "What?"
"You heard him," Olivia said. "Call him back."
"And tell him to bring his log," Elliot added.
Twenty minutes later, a tall, mustached man knocked on the dispatcher's glass door and pushed it open. "You wanted to see me, Boss?" he asked in a deep baritone, shifting the large book from his right hand to his left.
"Actually, these guys wanted to see you," she said as she motioned to Elliot and Olivia, who were leaning against the opposite wall.
"What's going on?" Kolinsky asked.
"You're Mike Kolinsky?" Elliot inquired, ignoring the question.
"Yeah. Who're you?"
Elliot pulled out his badge again. "Detectives Stabler and Benson, Special Victims Unit. You picked up a fare today outside the EZ Mart on East Eighty-Seventh Street?"
Kolinsky flipped open his log and scanned it for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I did."
Olivia showed him the picture they printed from the security video. "This him?"
The cabbie studied the picture and nodded. "Yeah, that's him. Acted kinda strange. I figured it was because he wasn't from around here."
"What makes you say that?" Elliot queried, his interest piqued.
"Had a funny accent. Sounded almost German, but not quite, like there was a little bit of a Spanish accent. I tried asking him about it, but he didn't say a thing for the whole damn ride after he told me where he was goin'."
Elliot and Olivia shared a look. "Where'd you drop him off?" Olivia asked.
"Uh…" Kolinsky checked his log again. "318 Wyckoff Street. Looked like some kind of apartment building or somethin'."
Elliot's phone chirped at him, and he excused himself to answer it.
"Did he have anything with him?" Olivia asked as she scribbled down the address in her notepad.
"A big black bag. I offered to put it in the trunk, but he told me no. He kept it pretty close."
Elliot rejoined his partner and nudged her shoulder. "Cap wants us back at the house," he said quietly. "Something happened."
Olivia nodded and thanked Kolinsky. The cabbie shrugged. "Anything to help the boys in blue. My dad was a cop."
The detectives smiled gratefully and walked out of the dispatcher's office. "What happened?" Olivia asked quietly when they stepped outside into the bright spring sunlight.
"He wouldn't say. But he sure sounded pissed."
"Another attack?"
"Don't think so. But it must be some sort of development."
"Did you tell him we had the address?"
Elliot nodded. "He said this was more important at the moment." He walked around the car to the driver's side door and glanced at his partner over the roof of the vehicle. "Whatever it is, I hope it gets us closer to this son of a bitch."
Joseph Adolphus checked his watch for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. He knew the cops would find him soon. It was only a matter of time. From what he'd heard, the NYPD had their best detectives on the case. It didn't matter. If he stayed free, he would be able to carry out more of his work. If he was caught, he would be a martyr for the cause. Others would stand up and take charge. He knew that some Americans believed the same things he did. He'd seen the video from that school in Colorado, with the two boys. Others would follow.
Gingerly he attached the final piece of his grand masterpiece. This morning had just been a rehearsal. This wouldn't rid the city of all the Jews, but it would certainly be more effective than his sniper rifle. And it would so infuriate the city, he'd be sure to be able to present his views to the world. He would convince others to continue the war.
The day had been busy. After the cabbie dropped him off at his apartment, he walked the four blocks to the subway station back into Manhattan. He was on a strict schedule, so there was no time to stop for anything there. He hopped off the train near One Police Plaza to deliver his note for the detectives working the case. Then he hopped back on the subway to Brooklyn so he could finish before tonight.
He checked his watch one more time. He'd better move it.
Adolphus gently picked it up and carefully placed it into the black duffel bag. He was fairly sure it wouldn't go off before it was time, but there was no need to take any risks.
Again he looked at his watch and smiled. Five minutes ahead of schedule.
Time to take this war to the next level.
Precinct 16
Friday, April 20
"Cap, what's going on?" Elliot practically shouted as soon as he and Olivia entered the squad room. "We've got a perfectly good – "
He trailed off when he saw a familiar scowling face sitting between Cragen and Munch. The Chief of Detectives didn't look amused at Elliot's outburst.
"This can't be good," Olivia whispered to her partner.
Elliot didn't reply. He was too busy studying the faces of his coworkers. Cragen leaned against Munch's desk, his expression solemn. Munch wasn't cracking jokes. In fact, Elliot couldn't remember a time he'd seen the seasoned detective so serious. Fin's face mirrored his partner's.
"What's going on, sir?" he asked.
Cragen sighed and stood. Elliot's eyes traveled to his right hand, which was clutching a piece of white paper. "This was delivered to One PP," Cragen said, waving the paper. "We've got a problem."
Olivia narrowed her coffee-colored eyes. "What?"
Her boss silently handed Elliot the letter.
Olivia watched as her partner's blue eyes widened as they skimmed the typed letter. His jaw was clenched, like it always did when he was angry. "El?" she ventured.
His hand shook with rage as he handed it to her. Confused, she took it from him and immediately gasped. She couldn't believe it.
'This is my formal declaration of war on the Zionist-controlled city of New York and the Christ-killers. This morning was just the beginning. Soon, the city streets will run red with Jewish blood. Fire will consume their women and children.
Heil Hitler.'
A/N: Sorry about the lack of C/E interaction in this chapter. I wanted them to make headway on the case. I promise I'll make up for it later.
On another note, thanks so much for all the positive feedback I've gotten on this story. I really, really, really, really appreciate it. I know it's a little different, and I was worried about the kind of reception I would get. But ya'll have been absolutely wonderful. My goal was to take an episode like "RAW" and take it to the next level, with a little bit of a history lesson in there (which, coincidentally, comes with the next chapter).
Let me know what you think of this chapter!