Wednesday, 4:00 P.M.
For the first time in this case, Jane and her fellow detectives had a genuine suspect along with an understanding of the murders. Three Russian dancers visiting Boston Ballet were killed in a ritualistic manner over the course of the last couple of days. The only logical suspect had to be someone involved with the company who garnered respect; the only person who fit that bill was Yuri Grigorvich, the artistic director of Boston Ballet. Despite the lack of conclusive evidence that could be accepted in court, the Lieutenant had agreed to allow Jane to move forward and take Yuri into custody upon hearing the long-awaited connection between the victims and the bloody messages written on the walls. He wasn't happy about the lack of evidence but, in a case like this one where time was of the essence, the Loo was willing to forego in exchange for not missing an opportunity to catch a potential killer. To Jane, however, their lack of evidence was hardly a problem. That's what interrogation is for, getting a confession when the evidence is circumstantial, at best. Yuri Grigorvich is our man, no doubts.
With the rest of her team, Jane had hastily put together a retrieval plan of the suspect. Her mother had gladly dropped off another suit for her to change into, taking her wrinkled clothes, the ruined dress Maura had lent her, and her dress blues. Outfitted in her second skin, Jane began to get started. After calling his assistant, it was determined that Yuri had left several hours ago to have lunch. The assistant was unsure of where exactly the man had gone or could be located, but Jane used her experience as a homicide detective to conclude that Yuri was probably at his apartment, holed up with another victim. He wants to finish his story so he's going to kill again and soon. BPD's press conference may have slowed him down but I highly doubt he's going to jump ship so late in the game. Ignoring the idiotic ramblings of the nervous assistant, Jane commanded the young man to tell her where the apartment was. After discovering that it was near both the school and Opera House, the team took a brief couple of minutes to formulate a plan to secure the main entrance of the building and prepare for Yuri Grigorvich's capture. Jane, Korsak, and Frost would take the point while the other detectives would flank the building, making sure the artistic director had no probable escape route. Checking her belt for her trusty Glock, gold shield, radio, and handcuffs; Jane signaled to begin the operation.
Yuri Grigorvich's condo was a penthouse suite; the only one occupied on the top floor. In order to not create unnecessary suspicion, the three detectives entered the condo complex separately, agreeing to meet up on the top floor together. Jane's entrance was unwatched, the doorman's station left unoccupied as she waited for the elevator to reach the bottom floor. Her brown eyes remained alert, searching the empty space for the slightest hint of potential threats. A whoosh of air announced the arrival of the elevator and Jane walked into the small confined space confidently; pushing the top floor button before a young man in running gear caught the elevator before the doors could close fully. Jane evaluated his presence, covering the tools of her trade with her suit jacket.
"Floor?" Jane asked distractedly.
The gasping man lifted five fingers weakly and Jane nodded, pushing the small button for the fifth floor. The elevator began to rise upward, leaving her with nothing to do but try to remain oblivious to the sputtering man next to her who looked near death.
Before she could stop, however, Jane's cop instincts kicked in, causing her to look over at the man with slight concern. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah," he sputtered, gathering himself to his full height, looking over at the detective for the first time. "I'm training for the Boston Marathon. I don't normally do marathons but my girlfriend loves it. She says it'll be good for our relationship to experience the pain together."
Jane chuckled at the sudden memories of Maura's successful attempt to do the same thing with her last year. "It's not that bad."
The elevator was now nearing the fifth floor, preparing to stop. "Your boyfriend likes to run too? Are you two running this year? Can you believe they changed the course again so now the runners have to go over Heartbreak Hill twice? I can barely get over it once, nonetheless, twice."
"No," she said nonchalantly as the elevator opened, allowing the man to step out before looking back at the brunette, "my girlfriend and I aren't probably going to run this year, but after what happened last year, I wouldn't be surprised if she demanded our participation. Hopefully not, though. I can't stand running."
The door closed shut, his reply lost as Jane's mind refocused back to Yuri Grigorvich. Several seconds passed and finally, the elevator reached the penthouse floor with another whoosh of released air. Near the door at the end of the lighted hallway, Korsak and Frost waited expectantly with questioning looks.
"Sorry, civilian got on with me," she whispered, reaching her fellow detectives with long strides, "any activity inside the condo?"
Korsak shook his head, motioning the two other detectives near the wall in case of unexpected gunfire. It was just a precaution but a necessary one given that the suspect was a serial with a high probability of a victim inside. Like a squirrel, Yuri's potential future actions were unknown to the detectives upon his apprehension. He could go quietly or try to perform some kind of desperation move but Jane hoped for the former. Nodding to Korsak, she grabbed her gun from its holster, awaiting the unknown expectantly.
Korsak knocked on the door and it was opened by their prime suspect in the flesh, Yuri Grigorvich, looking completely at ease with the situation. His red eyebrows were raised slightly at the unusualness of seeing Detective Korsak at his door, but everything else about his elegant style was the same as their first meeting. Dressed in a plain black leotard, pointe shoes, and a hastily thrown on pair of sweatpants, Yuri seemed more like a dutiful dancer than a deranged serial killer, but Jane kept her guard up. The guy is an asshole of the highest order. Just because he has expensive clothes and toned legs, doesn't change anything. He killed those women, violated them.
Korsak introduced himself, allowing Jane to peer behind the door-frame to determine if a body was present. No bodies noticeable from the entrance. The place is immaculate, but, on the other hand, the guy doesn't have much to get cluttered in the first place. What's with rich people and minimalism? Jane signaled with her hands that there was nothing of notice within the condo from her point of view and Frost issued the same signal from his side of the door-frame, as well.
"So," Yuri said, stopping briefly as if testing the air like a cat before continuing. "Why are you here, Detective Korsak…and company? You can come out now, Ms. Rizzoli and Mr. Frost. I'd have to be dead not to notice the two of you signaling to each other like we're in some kind of action film."
Frost and Jane got up from their hiding positions, joining Korsak. "You're a suspect in the murders of Alina Bobrova, Irina Dotsenkaya, and Natalia Gerasimova. We have a warrant for your arrest."
Yuri's eyebrows lowered, a brief flash of boiling fury breaking through the mask of civility, but as quick as it arrived, it disappeared as his control took back over. His darkened focus moved from Korsak to Jane with the blink of an eye, another challenge subconsciously set by the dancer to the detective. Her body tensed, wanting nothing more than to throw his challenge back in his face. He's not going to go down without a fight when we interrogate him. He's already starting to test me and we haven't even arrested him yet.
An exhausted sigh came from the man's lips, lifting his hands in surrender. "There is no need to look so abrasive, detectives. I'm hardly going to run away like some convicted felon since I have done nothing wrong. Isn't that how the court system in America works, innocent until proven guilty? You have yet to prove my guilt, detectives. Even my youngest dancers know that they have to complete the most basic plié before moving into the grand plié; it is a natural progression that must be followed. But, who knows, maybe you do understand progression and have evidence that proves the guilt you all seem so ready to assume as truth. I highly doubt that, though. Americans are always so utterly backwards with the most basic of concepts."
"Korsak?" Jane asked, frustration seeping from her tensed frame.
"Yes, Detective?"
"Read him his rights and take him to the car." She said with an obvious eye-roll, grabbing onto Yuri's strong shoulder to move him forward. "I'm tired of hearing this guy's voice. If he keeps talking, I don't know what I'll do but I'm pretty sure it's going to involve my hands and his face."
Frost smiled before helping Korsak cuff Yuri to take him downstairs. Grabbing the radio at her hip in order to call Cavanaugh, Jane began to follow the detectives out after closing his door. "We got him. He's going willingly besides running his mouth. There's no body in his condo from what I can tell but without a search warrant, I can't go any further unless he allows us entrance and I highly doubt that is going to happen. We're going to have to sweat him in the box, if we want to get anywhere with this guy."
Jane sighed and shuddered at the possibility of being in a confined space with Yuri Grigorvich. Shaking her head, the brunette motioned to the stairs. "You guys can head down. I want to take the stairs. I think if I'm within arm's length of this guy, I might do something I'll regret."