Chapter 5
Maura bent over Sean Murphy's body carefully extricating his stomach in order to examine the organ closer. This was a part of the autopsy process that Maura liked the most. It simply was a puzzle to her; the stomach contents of her victims helped Maura piece together their activities before they fell victim to whatever crime had taken their lives. Sean Murphy was no exception. Despite the fact that she knew more about his life than most of her victims, Maura acted with the same precision as she normally did, meticulously reviewing the body for clues and following through with all of her procedures.
The elevator dinged and she heard hard footsteps signaling a visitor to her morgue. Maura remained focused, ignoring the cramping in her lower back having spent the night stooped over Sean Murphy's body. She knew instantly, based on the familiar sound of the footsteps, that Jane had arrived at work and was paying her an early morning visit.
"Have you been here all night?" Jane's husky voice seemed to echo through the morgue and Maura smiled despite her fatigue. The goose bumps on Maura's arms had no medical explanation other than that Jane's voice did things to Maura that she refused to even admit to herself. "I thought you were calling in Dr. Pike?"
"I never said that."
"You never said you weren't," Jane pointed out setting her cup of coffee down. "The last time we went against Doyle you made a point to call in Dr. OCD so that we had an airtight case against him."
"And we both rushed to judgment on that case; science proved Paddy's innocence and you found the real perpetrator."
"Why are you doing this, Maura?"
"Isn't this what I'm paid to do?" Maura stood up straight and winced. She placed her hands on her lower back and leaned, trying to stretch the overworked muscles. She knew she was deflecting; it was the only way she could skirt around the issue with Jane without lying. It certainly would be difficult for Maura, knowing Jane knew her inability to lie and her physical reaction to its practice, to explain why she would ultimately end up face first on the floor.
"Solitaire back?" Jane's voice was laced with sympathy for Maura as she worked to stretch out her muscles.
"What?"
"You have solitaire back." Jane handed Maura her own cup of coffee to revitalize her.
"I'm quite certain you're making that terminology up."
"It's when you lean over a deck of cards playing solitaire too long, your muscles freeze up."
"Now I'm 100% certain you've made that up," Maura chuckled as she sipped Jane's coffee. "COD is puncture of the heart's left ventricle. He died in minutes, bleeding out with the heart unable to function. Murder weapon, obviously, the ice pick."
"Right, so Doyle's MO. Which is why I'm wondering why you are doing this autopsy and not Pike?" Jane leaned back onto Maura's sink area, but not before checking to ensure no stray body fluids or organs were nearby. She folded her arms over her chest and arched an eyebrow waiting for Maura's answer.
"Because this isn't completely the MO of Paddy Doyle," Maura answered simply as she put the coffee down and turned back to face the body. "My initial examination at the beach led me to believe that this isn't going to be the case that brings my biological father to justice. It's similar, but not the same."
"Because everyone kills with an ice pick and pins a message to a dead body with it?"
"Because whatever message Paddy Doyle sends when he murders someone gets delivered. This one, whatever was on that paper, wasn't delivered. It's imperfect; Paddy Doyle has never been this disorganized or frantic."
"That's the reason you're doing this autopsy? Because you think Paddy Doyle never makes a mistake so it can't possibly be him?" Jane's voice raised an octave.
"I'm doing this because you need the best possible chance to find out who killed this young man and that's my job, Jane. My job is to help you, which is what I'm doing."
Jane looked astounded, mouth agape, watching as Maura placed Sean Murphy's heart on her scale to weigh it. She stared at Maura, taking in how tired she seemed, yet tense at the same time. Jane walked up behind Maura placing her hands on Maura's shoulders and, leaning closer, she whispered in her ear.
"You never wanted to risk losing a chance to get Paddy Doyle before," Jane whispered, unaware of Maura closing her eyes and relishing in the closeness between her and Jane. "You can't blame me for questioning things when our lead suspect is your sperm donor."
Maura paused, allowing her body to relax into Jane's as she took a deep breath. She bit on her lower lip, daring not to say anything to Jane that would tip her dependable 'gut instinct' that this case was different. Maura knew with certainty that her biological father couldn't possibly be the source of this latest murder, but couldn't reveal that to Jane.
"Let me know when you have the time of death and try not to develop permanent solitaire back over this case," Jane chuckled as she squeezed Maura's shoulders and passed through the morgue and back toward the elevator.
Maura snickered as she realized that she had been holding her breath. For reasons that she didn't want to address nor understand, Maura simply felt safest and adored when she was near Jane. She knew that she had never been great at close interpersonal relationships; much of her life had been spent alone. There had been co-workers and associates, but few who got close. But Jane was different. She had never trusted anyone the way she trusted Jane and she believed that Jane felt similarly. Maura's jaw clenched. She was keeping from Jane that she was helping her father and she began to wonder just how Jane would react if she ever found out. Would Jane forgive her? Maura closed her eyes, trying to stretch out the tension that was quickly settling in her shoulders. She needed to find a way to handle this with Jane; she couldn't bear the thought of Jane walking out of her life. Maura shook her head to gain her composure once more, reminding herself that, right now, she had a job to do.
Jane leaned against the wall down the hall from the morgue, waiting for the elevator to arrive. Something odd was going on with Maura, Jane's gut told her that for sure. She squinted slightly, her detective's mind sorting through the last few days for anything that might help her understand. If Maura was just helping a 'sick friend' why hadn't she told Jane? They were so close and spent so much time together, she told Jane everything. Or did she? The elevator doors opened and Jane wandered in, still deep in thought. Maybe they weren't as close as she thought. Maybe Maura had gotten tired of Jane's 'abuse' as she called it. Maybe Maura was seeing someone. Jane's stomach clenched at that last thought. 'Why does that bother me so much,' she wondered. Her handed drifted to her face as she thought and her eyes closed as she caught the scent of Maura's perfume. How was it that the scent was so familiar and comforting? The elevator dinged and Jane's eyes flew open as she recognized what she was feeling.
"Hey, there you are," Korsak said, passing her as she stepped out of the elevator. "Frost is looking for you. Something about that paper that was pinned to Sean Murphy's chest. I think he's got something."
"Yeah, thanks," Jane mumbled, trying to push away her earlier thoughts and re-focus on the case as she headed toward the bullpen.
Maura finished suturing the Y incision closed and laid the instruments aside. She leaned heavily against the autopsy table, exhaustion weighing on her. Pulling a deep breath, she removed her gloves with a snap and turned to throw them in a biohazard bin. She gasped loudly upon finding Michael, her father's trusted employee, standing near the autopsy table.
"You scared me," Maura placed her palm over her rapidly beating heart. "What are you doing here?"
"I've come to see my brother," Michael said sadly as he touched Sean's cold hand. "It's been hard, knowing I'm not going to see him again."
"Your brother?"
"Not literally, obviously, but Sean was the closest thing I'll ever have."
"I'm sorry for your loss." Maura was genuinely surprised at the look of sorrow in Michael's eyes. "Maybe you should have asked Mr. Doyle not to kill your friend."
"You think Paddy Doyle did this to Sean?" Michael looked angry, his voice uneasy as he stared at Maura. "I can assure you that he didn't. Even if he could, he wouldn't kill Sean."
"I have to agree with you this one time," Maura conceded. "This doesn't fit Paddy Doyle's standard MO. But that isn't to say that he hasn't killed many other young men just like Sean Murphy or that Sean wasn't killed because of Mr. Doyle."
"Paddy Doyle isn't a vicious murderer, Dr. Isles, and Sean was one of the good guys. Paddy knows this too."
"Good guys?" Maura allowed her mouth to fall open in shock. Her arms defensively folded across her chest and she shifted her weight to one foot and cocked her hip in anger. "You can't be serious?"
"I've learned there is a fine and sometimes blurry line between the good guys and the bad ones, Doctor."
Michael walked around to the other side of the table and placed his hand on Sean's shoulder. He whispered what Maura thought was a prayer and then made the sign of the cross muttering 'amen' as he stepped back from the body.
"Paddy Doyle has killed, Dr. Isles; neither of us would deny that. But do you know who he has killed?"
Maura remained silent formulating her argument, but never getting a chance to voice it once Michael started talking once more.
"Drug dealers," Michael wiped a stray tear that had fallen from his eyes and hardened his stance to hide his grief. "Last year Paddy ordered a hit on a known drug dealer who was trying to push pounds of crack into the local school systems. When Paddy found out it was coming from the docks that we run, he put a stop to it. Does that sound like an evil man to you?"
Maura stepped to the side and fidgeted with a file on the autopsy table before turning to face Michael once more.
"What about Sutton? He killed Melissa Black and some of our men before Paddy put a stop to it. Did you think Sutton was such an upstanding citizen that he didn't have a punishment coming? You knew Paddy didn't kill that woman when the case was pending, but he gets accused of a lot of things that he's not responsible for."
Maura nodded and cleared her throat before speaking, "I knew he didn't kill MJ Black when science, unbiased and true, proved it to me. But that doesn't make him a good guy, Michael. The reason Paddy Doyle gets accused of a lot of bad things is because he's done many of them multiple times. Where there's smoke there's most often fire."
"Let me ask you something, Dr. Isles," Michael moved closer and leaned against the table, holding Maura's gaze as he spoke. "When the big drug bust in 2001 went down and three drug dealers were shot in the chest and died, did you praise the officers who shot them or condemn them for their deaths?"
Maura looked at him inquisitively. "I wasn't here in 2001; I was in Europe doing some volunteer work and backpacking through the countryside so I'm not sure who you…."
"Detective Rizzoli was praised for that drug bust and it's what ultimately led her to homicide where she received yet another medal for killing the cop that was running a drug cartel out of Boston."
"This isn't about Jane!" Maura snapped back through clenched teeth. She would always passionately defend her best friend.
"She's killed bad people too, the only difference is that we don't run into the same red tape she does. She finds the bad guys and at times, has had to kill them to bring them justice. She's very good at what she does, Dr. Isles, and you find that honorable, respectable."
"I admire Jane for the woman that she is, inside and out. However, I fail to see what Jane being good at her job has to do with this!"
"I saw you earlier, before you knew I was here. You love her, and yet she has killed bad people too but you approve when she does it. Praise it even."
"It's her job and she's damn good at it."
"The only difference is that she runs into red tape and has her hands tied, causing Boston more money than it's worth, to give bad people a life in jail where they get three square meals a day and sometimes a better life than a lot of people have on the outside."
"I'm sorry….."
"Do you think I had three square meals a day before Paddy Doyle took me in? Do you think that I had cable, a warm bed, or rights on the streets? I didn't get that until Paddy helped me get off the street. But commit a murder, a robbery; any crime that gets you in the joint and you'll get a great life with rights and everything."
"I fail to see what this has to do with Jane?" Maura was irritated; she began twirling her ring around to control her anger and frustration with the situation.
"I'm just saying that Paddy Doyle and Detective Rizzoli aren't as different as you think they are, Doctor." Michael reached into his inside coat pocket and handed Maura a business card. "My cell phone is on there. When you get more information from your autopsy of Sean can you please let me know what you find?"
"I'll be informing Detective Rizzoli of my findings." Maura stood her ground against Michael. "I knew helping him was a mistake…I won't do my father's bidding, Michael."
Michael turned and left the morgue, just as quietly as he came, leaving Maura in a state of confusion. First Jane had set her senses ablaze and now her anger matched the same level after Michael had paid her a visit. She grabbed the file from the table and stormed into her office to take a much-needed break.
"What's up, Frost." Jane weaved through the desks in the bullpen, finally planting herself on the corner of Frost's desk.
"I took the photo paper that was pinned to Sean Murphy's chest and ran it through the MX3000 scanner at 720dpi. Then I put it—"
Jane held up her hand, stopping him in the middle of his sentence. "Spare me the geek speak. Can we cut to the chase?"
"An image," Frost offered, somewhat deflated by Jane's attitude. "I managed to pull an image and clear it up enough to run it through facial recognition. It came up with fifteen potential matches."
"Fifteen!" Jane shouted, hopping up from the desk and beginning to pace the small pathway between the desks. "We can't narrow that down a bit? I mean we can't possibly put protection on fifteen potential vics."
"Already done," Frost smiled, "Of the fifteen, only one is a known associate of Doyle's."
"Nice!" Jane smacked Frost so hard on the back he nearly pitched forward. "Let's see it."
Frost switched screens on his computer and angled the monitor to give Jane a better look.
"Michael Byrne. Started out as a petty thug and worked his way up to Doyle's lieutenant," Jane paused to take in the info. "Let's call over to organized crime and see what else they can tell us about Mr. Byrne. And we'll get word out to patrol to bring him in if he crawls out into the sun."
In South Boston, the air was cold. The breeze kicked up, blowing orange and yellow leaves across the ground as Paddy Doyle fingered the envelope that had been delivered during the night to one of Doyle's warehouses. It had been passed through the chain of command and had been handed to him after his brief nap. That was the worst part of it; the constant need to sleep that he fought off to try to retain control over one of the largest crime organizations in the country.
Paddy slid his finger into the envelope and ran it across the seal to break it open. He slid the pictures inside partway out before dropping the envelope to his lap. "We got pictures of Sean too?" Paddy Doyle's voice was coarse; he felt his outrage at someone attacking his organization while he was ill and couldn't protect them in his usual manner.
"Yes, Sir."
"Sean was first and two days later he ended up dead." Paddy sighed as he took the contents out of the envelope and began to lay it out on his lap to look at it. "Did Michael check in yet?"
"He called to say he was going to take some time and say goodbye to Sean in his own way."
Paddy felt his heart beating erratically as looked over the contents of the latest package. His hands began to shake as he looked at the black and white photos lying in his lap. His daughter, Dr. Maura Isles, was staring back at him. His eyes struggled to maintain focus on her picture, but to no avail, he surrendered to the dark with Maura's photo still clutched in his hands.