- William and Amy Martines, and their daughter Francès...
Eames looked at the crime scene, where Goren was just crouching, inspecting and analyzing every detail of the father's body, holding his little daughter in his arms.
Some distance away from both bodies, lay the mother's body.
But there was one disturbing detail between the father's body and that of his daughter, compared with that of the mother.
The mother's face was completely disfigured.
It was as if all the murderer's hatred was directed at her, not at the father and daughter.
And we couldn't tell what Amy Martines' face looked like.
Could it be that the father and child had arrived at the wrong time, and having seen the murderer's face, had turned on them, killing them with a bullet.
It was quite possible.
For why would he have disfigured the mother's face and shot the father and child.
It wasn't logical at all, if the murderer's vengeance was turned on the whole family.
- Look at Eames... There are no bruises on their bodies.
And that was what Goren had just confirmed.
That was it.
William and Francès had come to the wrong place at the wrong time.
Goren looked away from Eames and back at William Martines, who was holding his daughter in his arms as if to protect her, shielding her with his body.
But unfortunately for him, the bullet had also passed through his daughter's body.
Good heavens...
Francès was so small.
Her life had been snatched from her too soon.
It wasn't fair.
Why did he have to see dead children in his line of work.
Normally when it concerned a child, it was the special victims unit that dealt with it, not their units.
But not when it concerned an entire family, it was them.
And Goren didn't like that.
He preferred to avoid this kind of investigation.
Especially when it involved children.
As his gaze fell on the little girl, whose blond curls were escaping from her father's arms, his heart tightened.
Good God...
It was too soon to die.
Francès should have had her whole life ahead of her.
Francès...
When he thought of the little girl's name, his heart sank, reminding him of the mother he'd lost just a few months ago.
Why had it been necessary for one of his first investigations to find himself with a dead little girl, and above all, to name her after his dead mother.
It was as if fate had done it on purpose, stirring the pot.
- Bobby...
At Eames' voice, which looked at him with concern, Goren snapped out of his sad thoughts and turned his attention back to the child's body.
But his eyes were drawn to something.
Something that seemed to move.
It was the little girl's fingers.
But no, it couldn't be.
The child's fingers couldn't move.
She was dead.
And nothing would make her wake up.
And yet...
When he saw her little fingers moving slowly again, he told himself he hadn't been dreaming.
But how could it be.
Wasn't he imagining the child's fingers moving, just because he wished she were alive.
And in that case, if he said he'd seen Francès Martines' little fingers moving, he'd still look like a madman.
Better to keep his mouth shut.
But the little fingers continued to move, so he turned to Eames.
Maybe she'd confirm what he was seeing.
And if she did, he wouldn't look crazy.
And in the other case, if the fingers didn't move and it was his imagination, he'd keep it to himself.
- Eames... You can come and see.
Eames nodded, coming over to him and stopping a short distance from the two bodies.
- Can you see... what I see.
See what he saw...
But what was Goren talking about?
What did he want her to see.
It wasn't logical at all.
- Look closely at Francès Martines' fingers.
He'd spoken so softly, she wasn't sure she understood what he'd said.
Look at the fingers of Francès Martines...
Was that what he'd just told her.
And if it was.
Why did he want her to look at his fingers.
Had he found a little clue in the child's fingers.
- You want me to look at her fingers...
He nodded.
Then she looked at the little girl's fingers.
Seeing them move, she wiped her eyes, telling herself that she'd been dreaming this scene.
That it was simply impossible for the little girl's fingers to have moved...
Francès Martines had died from the same bullet that had killed her father, so her little fingers couldn't have moved.
And yet...
That's what they were doing right now...
They were moving.
- You saw what I saw.
At Goren's knowing nod, and Eames' stunned look at witnessing this.
Eames knew she hadn't been dreaming, and that it was real.
Petite Francès William was still alive.
But for how long.
With all the blood she'd just lost, there was little hope of the little girl surviving another few minutes.
- There wasn't a second to lose.
At Goren's words, said with gravity and determination, Eames saw him move his hands towards William Martines' arms, which were clasping his daughter, and spread them, to take Francès from her father's arms, and take her gently in his arms.
- I'm taking her...
- ... To the hospital.
To Eames, who had just finished his sentence, as she was wont to do, and as he was wont to do in her case, Goren nodded gravely, and stood up slowly, avoiding moving too much, and further injuring the child, who was between life and death.
- I'll accompany you to the hospital... And I'll come back after I've dropped you off.
With these words, and without missing a beat, Eames followed Goren, who was holding the tiny body of little Francès in his arms, and they left the scene of the crime, heading for Mercy Hospital, which was only five minutes away.
