Goren found Rainy Jay leaning against the cement wall that divided police headquarters from the rest of the plaza, near the guardhouse and the building's main entrance.
"Those are gonna kill you," Goren offered while entering her field of vision.
Rainy nodded and blew smoke out her nose. She dropped the butt to the ground and squished it with her toe, while shaking loose a fresh cigarette from the olive-green package. Goren frowned while she lit it, inhaled, and handed it to him.
He accepted, taking a tentative puff before grimacing, "That's horrible."
She retrieved the smoke from his fingers and nodded. "So is the desert." She looked to her shoes and turned away. "Thought you'd be after your boy?"
"I still need your help, Jay."
Rainy scowled and focused on smoking to avoid eye contact. After another pensive moment, she flicked the cigarette towards a puddle and shrugged. "Let's go."
Goren, Rainy Jay and Eames met at the SUV nearly simultaneously.
Eames navigated the traffic into Queens while Goren reviewed his notes. Rainy sat behind him, gazing at the passing city while chewing on her thumb. The minutes passed silently.
Gebelawi's House centered on a street marked with Middle Eastern cuisine and culture.
"Good place to blend in," Eames commented while pulling alongside the curb.
A set of uniformed officers met them a building before their destination. Eames directed one of them to pass through the alley and identify alternative exits, and the other to accompany them to watch the front door.
Three young adults sat on the steps leading up to the hostel's main entrance. They spoke in jumbled English, clearly not native to the country. The youths smiled cordially but made no effort to move as the trio ascended the steps and into the inside.
Goren approached the front desk first, providing a gentle smile and nod of the head. "Excuse me," he began as the dark haired desk attendant shifted his attention, "I'm looking for this gentleman, I believe he might have checked in early this morning?" Goren produced a photo of Bakr Okaly, courtesy of the Hudson's admissions office.
The attendant hesitated, examining the photo with interest. "Is he in trouble?"
Goren leaned on the desk nonchalantly. "We just need to talk to him."
Eames took a step towards him, reinforcing their urgency and authority.
Rainy Jay appeared generally disinterested, instead taking in the lobby's art and furnishings.
The clerk pushed the photo towards Goren. "I don't know. We have privacy requirements. I cannot say."
Eames approached the desk outright. "Look," she paused, reading his nametag, "Hasad, he's not in trouble, but he is a witness to a crime. He's probably afraid. We just want to help him. If he is here, you'd be doing him and us a favor. Let us help him."
Hasad touched the photo again contemplatively. Finally, he nodded. "He was, but he left."
"Did he check out?" Goren asked.
Hasad stepped back and pulled out the handwritten ledger. "No, he paid cash when he got here this morning. He could come back, or he might not. He paid for 24 hours, so until tomorrow morning."
"How did he check in, with an ID, what?" Rainy asked, still a few feet behind the group.
"He had a passport," Hasad ran a finger across the ledger.
Rainy rushed the counter while Goren and Eames straightened in surprise. "From where?" She reached behind the counter and tugged the book out from beneath Hasad's hands.
"Hey!" he protested.
Goren held up a hand for him to be quiet.
"It will not say there!" Hasad protested as Rainy skimmed the list of names with her finger while Goren and Eames read over her shoulders.
Rainy paused. "This says is al-Bakr, is that him?"
"Yes, he was the first I checked in today." Hasad nodded, eyes wide.
Rainy stepped back from the counter while Goren rubbed the back of his neck.
"Did he leave any luggage, personal belongings?" Goren asked.
Hasad shook his head. "No, he did not rent a locker, just paid for a bed. He did not have anything with him this morning."
"Give me one of your cards." Rainy mumbled to Goren, who complied. She stepped back to the counter, placing the card on top of the photo. "Listen," she spoke in a firm whisper, "when al-Bakr comes back, you will call this number and you will tell us. You will not tell al-Bakr that we are looking for him. If you do, I will come back here with a dozen guys bigger than him," she gestured to Goren with a flinch, "and we will tear this place apart. Do you understand?"
Hasad's brown face paled and he nodded. "Yes ma'am. As soon as he returns, I will call. I will not leave until he is here if I must and I will call."
Rainy nodded, turned sharply and exited. Goren looked to Eames, who gave him the same bad idea glare as she had earlier in the day. He nodded at Hasad and followed Eames out of the building.
At the bottom of the stairs, Eames instructed the uniformed officer to get back with his partner and sit on the location. Goren provided him with a headshot of Bakr.
They found Rainy pacing outside the SUV, furiously typing on her Blackberry while drawing heavily on a nearly consumed cigarette.
"Was that really necessary?" Goren asked, his tone serious.
Rainy shook loose a fresh cigarette without meeting his gaze. "You asked for my help. This is me helping."
Goren looked to Eames and quickly away after meeting her disapproving stare again.
Rainy lit her cigarette and paced to the end of the car, and hesitated before proceeding onward past it and the detectives.
"Where are you going?" Goren's patience waned.
"To the Noguchi," Rainy joked, turning to face them while continuing to walk backwards. "Call me in the morning, unless you decide you need but don't want more help before then." She turned again, not waiting for a response.
Goren rubbed his neck and bit his lip. Eames frowned and shifted uncomfortably.
"Maybe we should get someone from the Joint Terrorism Taskforce," Eames began, after several contemplative miles of silence.
Goren held up a hand and shook his head before she could finish. "She'll be okay."
"Bobby," Eames began again, choosing her words carefully but deliberately, "the NYPD can handle this."
Goren covered his mouth with his hand, gazing out the window. Finally, he nodded, avoiding eye contact, "Okay. You're right."
Eames nodded her thanks, masking her relief, and focused on the road.
Captain Ross ostensibly materialized out of nowhere as Goren and Eames hung their coats.
"I take it you've made no progress tracking down Mr. Okaly," he observed morosely.
"We have a unit sitting on the hostel where he was last seen," Eames replied.
"And Agent Jansen?"
Eames looked to Goren. "We'll be in touch," he picked up.
Ross nodded. "Jack Jordanais is in the conference room." He turned his body language expectant of his detectives to follow.
Goren looked to his shoes and sighed, while Eames squared her shoulders and led the way.
"Mr. Jordanais, these are the detectives assigned to Campbell and Emily's case, Goren and Eames."
Jack stood, buttoning his tailored suit, and shook their hands. "Thank you, detectives. Christian is at home; he didn't feel up to coming up here just yet."
"Christian, he's Campbell's father?" Goren asked, opening his binder.
"Yes, we got on a plane as soon as we could, after Lucas called. Christian is quite distraught."
Goren nodded and made a note. "You're very close."
"Christian's been my personal assistant for over twenty years; Lucas and Campbell are like brothers. This whole ordeal has been very tragic for both our families."
"Do you know of anyone that would want to harm either of the boys, or their friends?" Eames asked, treading carefully.
"No," Jack shook his head furtively, "No, no one." He wiped his chin with his fingertips. "Do you really think Sidiq and Bakr had something to do with this?"
Eames looked to Goren who answered, "We don't know yet."
"How well do you know them?" Eames continued.
Jack straightened in his chair. "Sidiq was selected by my employer to attend Hudson on scholarship through our foundation. I never met him prior to his moving in with Lucas. His resume was impeccable; I had no qualms about placing him with my son. I still don't, unless you have reason for me to believe otherwise." He paused for comment, and continued when there was none. "I've never met Bakr. I only know what I've been told about him by the boys."
"And what's that, Mr. Jordanais?" Goren asked.
Jack shrugged. "He's not as linguistically advanced as most of their other foreign friends. He's quiet, but a diligent student, and always eager to follow along with them. He's always sounded like an average college boy exploring a new world unlike his own."
Goren continued making notes in his binder. Eames caught Ross's eyes, but before he could speak, Jack interjected.
"If you've no plans to charge Sidiq, may I please take him home?"
Eames and Goren looked at one another, both pairs of eyebrows raised.
"You do know he assaulted your son earlier today?" Eames asked.
Jack nodded. "A misunderstanding caused by emotional distress. They'll be fine."
"We haven't been able to locate Bakr, and we think Sidiq might know how to find him. If we release him, we will expect you to let us know if he does make contact with Bakr." Goren offered.
"Yes, absolutely. If you need more help, anything at all, my firm has offered all its resources, I have friends at the FBI…"
Goren held up his fingers, his thumb wrapped around his pencil. "We've got it covered. Your firm, what does it do?"
"Global banking, investing, provides capital to small corporations to produce urban development in underdeveloped countries; I coordinate amongst embassies to place scholarship worthy students in educational programs. The bank is willing to post a reward." He waited while Goren made another note. "If there's nothing else, I really need to get back to Christian."
Ross stood. "Thank you for coming down, Mr. Jordanais. I'll collect Mr. Fayyad for you and an officer can drive you home."
Jack nodded. Goren closed his notebook while he and Eames stood and followed Ross from the room.
Goren scratched his neck, looking to his partner and captain. "I wonder if a misunderstanding during emotional distress had anything to do with Campbell and Emily's death."
"I wonder if his relationship with Christian blinds the possibility," Eames deadpanned.
"Their relationship is irrelevant. You still have a missing roommate and no leads. I need something more than that to take upstairs." He looked to his watch, barely visible below his sagging rolled sleeve. "Wrap it up for tonight, but I can't hold off the brass much longer."
Goren continued his nervous head and neck rubbing as he and Eames settled back in their desks. Captain Ross entered the holding room. Eames began piling up the day's accumulated paperwork and Goren leaned on his elbows, his chin in his hands.
"Bright and early?" Eames asked, sliding her computer into her bag with a few files.
Goren nodded without making eye contact.
Eames shouldered her coat and bag, pushed in her chair, and headed for the exit. Moments later Ross escorted a pale and rumpled Sidiq Fayyad to the conference room. He watched through the blinds as Jack Jordanais shook the younger man's hand. The door reopened and Ross directed the men to a uniformed officer just outside the bullpen. Ross passed Goren a final stare before retreating to his office. Goren turned his attention back to his desk. He poked at the rolled musalla Rainy Jay had left on his desk. It fell to the floor, knocking Rainy's old bible along with it. He picked it up with a familiar picture fallen from its pages. He set it on top, scrubbed his face with his hands, and contemplated his next move.