'Mike Doran is dead,' Beckett repeated, staring at Esposito.

'Yep. Christine and John were on their way to talk to the guards at Sing-Sing when they were crunched.'

They all looked at each other before Ryan cleared his throat. 'That can't be coincidence, sir,' he said looking toward Montgomery, who nodded his agreement.

'I agree, Detective. What we have so far is enough to run financial and phone information, but it would be better to get a judge in our corner so that when the time comes for the heavy and we all know it's coming given the way John Raglan died.'

'I think we all know this is going to be a hard line to walk, sir,' Beckett said, looked at her men including Adam.

'Agreed,' Esposito nodded solemnly. 'So what's the move?'

'You and Ryan are going up to Sing-Sing, find out everything you can from guards and prisoners alike on Mike Doran's life inside.'

'Phone records, video, your basic outreach from one branch to another. Got it.'

'Be back here for three-thirty and we'll regroup. Adam, you are going to be the captain's bitch - sorry sir-'

'None taken,' Montgomery said; he knew what it took for Beckett to face this down and would let her have latitude where she could.

'You are going to be here, running background on Christine Doran. Nothing that would send up a flag, just to get a picture on the kind of woman we are dealing with. I'm going to sit on the doctors at the hospital until I can talk to Christine myself.'

Beckett had her badge out and in her palm when she walked onto the surgical floor of Saint Vincent's. She felt a little relief when she saw Daniel Brick at the nurse's station. He glanced up at the scent of the cold out-doors she carried on her clothes, gave her a grim smile.

'Detective Beckett, I thought I heard a rumour you wanted to see my patient.'

'You worked on Christine Doran? What's the damage?'

'I can't comment on that, I can only tell you what anesthetic I gave her. You'll want Samson, and here he comes.'

Beckett turned around, saw that grey-haired, spare-looking man in scrubs walking towards them as he fired off instructions to another man, younger, in scrubs.

'I need to speak with a patient of yours, Christine Doran, regarding the crash that brought her into your care.'

'It will have to wait another hour for her to recover. She's had intensive surgery and we are already pushing protocol by flushing anesthetic from her system instead of letting her recover naturally.'

'All due respect, doctor, you understand that this woman is a material witness to a murder?'

'All due respect, detective, you understand this woman is a human being in need of medical care.'

'We all have our jobs to do, our priorities,' Daniel said, stepping in to be a peacemaker. 'Doctor Samson, I know the detective personally and she wouldn't be the kind to put someone on the line like this if it weren't the only way to go. Detective Beckett, you understand the nature of the situation from a medical standpoint.'

'I wasn't asking you to stand her on her head, Doctor,' Beckett said stiffly. 'I need to speak with her within the hour to learn everything she knows. I will follow up if necessary and I believe her unfit to answer my questions due to her injuries.'

'She needs to rest for at least another forty minutes.'

'Then I'm sure there is a lounge where I can make some phone-calls while I wait.'

'Very well. Nurse Brick, you are cleared for charting.' Samson checked his beeper, moved down the hall which left Daniel with Beckett.

'That's his way of saying do busy work to keep your friend company,' he explained, picking up his charts and ushering Beckett towards a small sitting room. 'So I heard this lady is in some hot water.'

Beckett merely nodded, looked around to make sure they were completely alone in the lounge. Like the other lounge spaces in Saint Vincent's, it was made to look like the common lounge room of a hotel with floral patterned couches, a television, ficus plants in brass pots in the corners. She chose an arm chairs while Daniel plunked his files down on a couch, took a moment to put his feet up.

'Bet you're getting no sleep these days,' Beckett commented.

Daniel's pen stopped on the page. 'Why are you asking me about my wife and babies? Aren't you here for a homicide investigation?'

'I want something normal for a few minutes.'

Daniel could understand that. 'Fair enough.'

Beckett nodded, heard the chirp of her phone. 'Beckett.'

'Warrant came through from Fuqua for the paper trail,' Montgomery told her. 'Contact the boys, call me when you're on the way from the hospital.'

'Got it.' Beckett hung up, then dialed Esposito's cellphone. 'Warrant came through on financial and phone records. Get everything you possibly can.'

'We're almost wrapped here, we'll be back at the precinct by three.'

'Good. Take what you have, snag a conference room and tell Adam to report at three-thirty.'

'How's Christine?'

'I'll let you know when I see her. I'm also calling Meredeth. Where are your kids?'

'They're with my parents, and Mere's at home. I checked in with her and she has enough food to feed a small country.'

'Good. We'll be moving the conference to the loft at five-forty-five.' Beckett hung up, then dialed Meredeth's home number.

'Hi Kate,' she called.

'You going to be up for a catering gig?'

'Time?

'Tonight, six-thirty, bring whatever you've got in the kitchen.'

Meredeth, well-adept at cop-speak, understood perfectly. 'Any special diets?'

'Just the usual. See you then.' Beckett hung up yet again just as Samson come in and he gave her a stern look.

'You have exactly fifteen minutes. Christine is awake and would like to speak to you. Follow me.'

Beckett left Daniel without a second thought, strode down the corridpr after Samson, where she saw Christine lying in a bed, hooked up to tubes that let fluids go in and out of her body. Her eyes were dull with pain but they focused the moment she saw Beckett.

'Know you,' the woman croaked in a hoarse voice. 'De...Detective B...Beckett.'

'That's right, I'm a Homicide detective from the Twelfth Precinct. I need to ask you some questions regarding the death of John Raglan.'

'So tired.'

'I know, Christine, but you were a cop's wife for thirty-six years, you know I wouldn't do this unless I had to.'

Christine nodded, her movement making the papery pillowcase beneath her head rustle. 'I know.'

'When did you meet John this morning?'

'He...he came to my house. After Mike went upstate, I moved out of our apartment and found a little spot downtown. Too many memories, you see.'

'I understand. What next?'

'The prison called me, just after nine. It was my usual day to visit Mike so I'd already taken the day off work. Sometimes Mike would call me before I left to ask if I would bring pictures of Angela for him. I always did.' She shook her head. 'He was responsible for Angela's death and he always needed to be reminded of what he destroyed, what he took from me and cheated himself out of.'

'Was it usual for John to go with you?'

'No. No, it wasn't. He would go, but not all the time, maybe once a month, once every six weeks. He was friends with Mike and...and when I got word that Mike had been killed in prison, I called him, said I wasn't going to be going, but he encouraged me to go.'

'He encouraged you to go?' Beckett repeated, her antennae quivering.

'Yes, he said that it's possible he was killed in prison because of Angela. There were people Angela wrote about, the criminals, who got their fifteen minutes because of her and being that Mike was responsible for her death and an ex-cop to boot, he would be an easy target for a hit. John said we could talk to the prison guards, find out if it was just that simple.'

'Right.'

Beckett saw Christine shift, groan and knew her time was up. 'Okay, thank you Christine. There is one other small thing I have to ask you. We already have the warrant to look into any connections between John Raglan and your husband. I can get a court order but it will be smoother if you give us permission to look at your financial and phone records, in case there is anything that overlaps.'

'Do whatever you need to resolve this. I want to put all this behind me.'

'And of course, if you remember anything, don't' hesitate to call me.'