"dawna nmdhy." Let's go. Rainy stood with her coffee, grabbing Sidiq's elbow as she did.
Ross stood with Goren and Eames on the sidewalk. His voice was out of earshot but his head nodded to indicate first Bakr in the back of a police cruiser and then the entrance of the restaurant, just as Rainy and Sidiq emerged.
Rainy passed Sidiq's elbow off to a uniformed officer standing just outside the building. "He doesn't ride with his friend," she instructed.
"He have anything to add?" Ross asked.
Rainy shrugged noncommittally before shifting to her right, nudging her shoulder towards the street. "Think the peeper might?"
The trio discretely eyed the direction she indicated in time to see the rising tinted window of an expensive town car.
Without waiting for any responses, Rainy took off in long strides towards the car, with Goren and Ross a step behind. Upon reaching the vehicle, she tapped on the previously lowered window the metal of her badge. It lowered again. "Who're you?" she asked.
"Jack Jordanais," Goren answered before the man could.
Jack nodded curtly.
Rainy mimicked his expression before turning to face the men behind her. "I think he needs to come downtown too." Before they could question, she started off for Goren and Eames' SUV, tugging out a cigarette as she walked.
Captain Ross coordinated the arrival of his officers and suspects by phone during his return drive to 1 Police Plaza. He directed for Bakr Okaly to be placed and observed in an interrogation room, while he, the detectives and the agent, confronted Jack Jordanais and Sidiq Fayyad in a non-threatening conference room. Goren and Eames sat across the table from Jack and Sidiq while Ross sat at the head and Rainy Jay lingered in the background.
Goren bit his lip as he flipped pages in his binder. His face twisted in disappointment and confusion. His eye contact fluttered between that of his partner and captain before narrowing in on Jack Jordanais. "I thought we had an agreement," he began and shifted his gaze to Sidiq, "with the both of you."
Sidiq began to speak first, but was silenced by a touch on the forearm from Jack. After pausing a moment to ensure the younger man's outburst would not continue, Jack began to speak. "Bakr called Sidiq this morning. Sidiq informed me immediately. I allowed him to go ahead and meet Bakr, though I did not tell him I was following. I thought that if I told him, and Bakr truly was there, it would be better for me to bring him to you, than for you to pick him up." Jordanais remained composed, his hands folded in his lap.
"Why did you feel it would be better for you to bring him in, than for us to pick him up?" Goren continued.
For the first time in either of their meetings, Jack appeared uncomfortable. He appeared to consider his words carefully before responding, "The history between the NYPD and the Arab community is no secret, Detective. After what happened with Sidiq, I couldn't take the chance that your officers might manhandle Bakr as well."
"He ran!" Rainy Jay interjected, and to which Captain Ross responded with a hostile glare.
"And you are the intrepid FBI agent who stopped him, I assume? Your agency's relationship with the Arab community isn't much better, is it?" Jack's cool façade began to crumble, as did Rainy Jay's.
"Mr. Jordanais, we are trying to bring your family justice. You have implied that Campbell Brown is family to you, no?" Ross interceded.
Jack nodded curtly. "Yes, he and Emily both are."
"Then with any prejudices that may or may not exist aside, why are you interfering with this investigation?" he continued.
"That was never my intent, Captain. But I am trying to protect these young men from unjustifiably losing their life or liberty as well."
"I can assure you, the best way to do that is to let us do our jobs," Eames added.
Goren nodded his appreciation to her before resettling is attention on Sidiq. "Why didn't you contact us, or Agent Jansen, when Bakr called you?"
Sidiq nearly whispered his response, without making eye contact with anyone. "I am just trying to help him. Bakr has no one. He came to this country all alone. He does not have family or someone like Jack." He paused and made a fleeting glance to the man adjacent to him. "Jack told me what to expect in America and how to behave. Bakr is foolish. He works hard, but he is not prepared, he does not know what he should. I would not want for that to be me."
"Did Bakr tell you anything when he called?" Ross asked.
Sidiq shook his head, "No, just where was I and would I meet him. That is all."
Ross nodded and looked to his detectives. With no comments from them, he stood. "We will be in touch."
Jack began to stand as well, but Sidiq demonstrated no sign of movement. "Please, what will be done with Bakr?"
"We need to speak with him." Goren offered.
"And when you're finished, you will allow him to return, to school?" Jack questioned.
Goren remained uncommitted to a response. "We'll let you know."
Ross opened the conference room door and motioned for a uniformed officer to show the two men out. He closed the door again and turned his focus to the investigators. "That was a very noncommittal response, Detective."
"I don't think he is our guy," Goren began.
Ross stiffened and for lack of better response, smiled. "You've been searching for this guy for days, finally have him, haven't even spoken to him, and you've arrived at this conclusion how?"
Goren fiddled with his pencil. "Emily was petite, but tall, five foot ten or so. Bakr, he can't be more than five foot four? I don't think he would have had the leverage to asphyxiate her while simultaneously assaulting her, as Rodgers suggested in her report."
"Why didn't you pick up on this sooner?" Ross attempted to calm.
"Bakr's records all suggest he is at least six feet tall. The jeans Sidiq had yesterday gave me an indication something wasn't right, but it wasn't until we picked him up this morning, when we actually saw him that I could conclude anything definitive."
"He still could have killed her, even if it wasn't during the rape," Eames offered.
"Maybe," Goren shrugged, "Even if he didn't, if what Rainy Jay has uncovered is legitimate, we'll have to turn him over to the Feds."
Rainy stepped closer to the table. "Turn him over to me now and we won't have to worry about him asking for a lawyer, or going before a judge."
Ross vehemently shook his head. "We get the first crack. Go. Do."
Goren tensed in restrained protest, but led the trio to the interrogation room.
Upon entering the observation portion of the interrogation units, Goren, Eames, and Rainy Jay observed Bakr Okaly kneeling on the hard floor with his back to the one-way glass. Goren pressed a panel button to allow audio transmission into the room. A whispered, almost lyrical cadence of speech came over the small speaker. The detectives listened, though they did not know the meaning of the words.
Rainy Jay did not meet the detectives' gazes she knew would eventually fall on her for translation. Instead, she leaned against the wall behind them and offered an explanation. "It's a Du'a, a supplication," she listened another moment, "an istikharah, he's looking for guidance. He expects Allah to give him an answer, which will provide him relief."
allhm eeniaawth almstshar mn almk ، waawth bak msaadh alqdrh alklyh ، wana asalk lnamtk alraeeah. ya allh ، atha knt tarf an htha alamr mn wdhaijyd baalnsbah lifidyniwhyatiwlraayh lifialhyah alqadmh ، - faqdrh liwtjal mn alshl baalnsbah li، thm baark lifi weetha knt talm an htha alamr syeea baalnsbah lifidyniwhyatiwlraayh lifialhyah alqadmh ، - thm baad thlk mn li، walmsafh bayniwbayn thlk ، wmr baalnsbah lima hw khyr aynma kan
O Allah, I seek the counsel of Your Knowledge, and I seek the help of Your Omnipotence, and I beseech You for Your Magnificent Grace. Surely, You are Capable and I am not. You know and I know not, and You are the Knower of the unseen. O Allah, if You know that this matter of my situation is good for me in my religion and in my life and for my welfare in the life to come, - then ordain it for me and make it easy for me, then bless me in it. And if You know that this matter is bad for me in my religion and in my life and for my welfare in the life to come, - then distance it from me, and distance me from it, and ordain for me what is good wherever it may be, and help me to be content with it.
They waited until Bakr had stopped his prayer. He continued to kneel quietly, without saying anything or moving for several minutes afterwards. Finally, he stood unsteadily as blood returned to his folded limbs. He leaned on the table as he pulled out a chair to sit.
Goren looked to Eames and then led her from the observation room into the interrogation room with Bakr. Rainy Jay, though expected to follow, did not.
Goren and Eames sat across from Bakr. "I'm Detective Goren, this is Detective Eames. We need to talk to you about your friends," he hesitated waiting for Bakr to offer some form of acknowledgement, "your friends," he repeated, "Emily, and Campbell. Do you know what happened to them?"
Bakr shook his head. He finally spoke in heavily accented English, "Emily is dead." He tensed, notably.
Goren waited for him to continue before prompting, "And Campbell?" Bakr still did not show any emotion to the name. "Campbell is dead too." Goren finally offered.
Bakr shifted his eyes to Goren's for the first time since the detective entered the room. He offered a one-word response. "Good."
Goren looked to Eames, who attempted not to reveal the chill Bakr's response gave her. Goren shifted uncomfortably, scratching his chin. "It's good that your friend is dead?"
"He is no friend. He is kāfir, without Allah!"
"Alright," Goren nodded reluctantly. "When did you last see Emily?"
"At the party."
"The party on Sunday night."
Bakr flinched a nod.
"What about Campbell? When did you last see him?"
"ibn kalb," Bakr muttered.
Goren masked a confused frown, and raised an eyebrow. "Bakr, we need to know. We are trying to help you," he persisted.
"No! No more. I have nothing to say." Bakr put his hand up and then covered his face, leaning into his palms, his elbows propped on the table.
Goren looked to Eames who had remained silent. He bit his lip. She had nothing to offer. They stood and went back into the observation room.
Rainy Jay had moved to lean against the one-way glass. "He called Campbell a son of a dog, not very menacing, even by his standards." When neither Goren nor Eames acknowledged her comment, she continued. "If you let me have him, he doesn't get a choice whether he wants to talk or not. You keep him, and he can sit there in silence until you get him before a judge and have his visa status properly revoked. Of course by then, the Alphabet Soup will all be competing for a turn, if anyone gets one at all."
"There's no guarantee someone won't just come take him, no matter what we do," Eames added.
Rainy Jay nodded somberly towards Goren, mumbling, "You know where to find me," and exited the room.
The detectives caught one another's eyes briefly before each turned awkwardly in opposite directions, both unsure of their next move.
"I'm just trying to help you out here, Bakr," Goren offered for at least the fourth time that evening. "I just need you to answer my questions."
Several hours had passed since the detectives placed the young man in the interrogation room. Goren and Eames tried all of their usual tactics to confront him, speaking to him individually, together, leaving him alone for long periods, offering him snacks and meals. Though he generally refused to speak, Bakr never asked for an attorney or counsel. He simply resisted all attempts to crack his stoicism. It appeared to Goren that his latest endeavor would be as fruitless.
"I do not have to answer your questions," Bakr responded, as he had all the previous times. It was the closest the young man ever came to asking for a lawyer, but until he asked directly, the detectives continued to question him.
"Actually, Bakr, you do," Goren lamented in frustration, any indication of kindness had left his voice and posture.
Bakr seemed to notice this shift in the detective's demeanor and he tensed slightly before responding, "No. I am no citizen of yours. I answer nothing."
"See, there, there you're wrong. There we have a problem." Goren was exhausted. If it required aggression to get through to the younger man, then aggression it would be. He struggled to maintain an even tone as he continued. "You have a passport, a visa, don't you?"
Bakr sat completely still for a moment before giving the slightest flinch of a nod.
"Good. You'd have to, to be here. And you know what? When you signed that visa, you agreed to be subject to the system and all the laws of that country. My country. Your country, presently, which means you have to answer my questions, or you'll go to jail until you do. And you know what else, Bakr? If you're afraid of being here," Goren swirled his finger around nondescriptly in the air, "just imagine what it's like in a jail full of still-angry New Yorkers. Patriotism, Bakr, is something that never goes away, even behind bars."
Bakr did not move. Goren leaned his forearms on the table in front of him and slouched his shoulders, never breaking eye contact with Bakr.
After a few breaths had passed, Goren continued, "Are you ready to answer my questions now?"
Bakr did not hesitate, though his voice trembled, "I have nothing to say to you."
Goren could not help but smirk at his defiance. He finally broke eye contact, looking down to his binder and files that lay between his arms. "Okay," he nodded, "okay. I'll go give Riker's a heads up." Without another glance at Bakr, he swept up his belongings and stalked out of the room.
Captain Ross and Eames met him in the observation room on the other side of the mirrored glass.
"Thought you might have had him that time," Eames disingenuously offered.
Goren said nothing and instead shook his head and his shoulders shuddered in an attempt to loosen the tightened muscles. "I don't know what else to do with him. Give him a meal. Give him the night. Hope he'll relax enough to talk by morning?"
Ross looked at the clock and noted he and the detectives had been working for nearly 14 hours. "I don't know if he will, but maybe you two will think of something else by then. Go home. Fresh crack after you've both had some rest."
The detectives did not protest.