A/N: I am not a cop, lawyer or judge, and this is a work of fiction. Hope you enjoy this chapter and the whole fic and I am sorry for subjecting you to my imagination of what Goren's childhood was like. There is discussion of, unintentional, physical child abuse and foster care. I recognize that those subject can be sensitive for some so read this chapter with caution. As for the ending, it may seem rushed as I was trying to do my story justice without writing myself into a corner. Please review!
Robert Goren has a process: read all the facts, look at all the pictures, and ask questions: What did the killer experience when they committed the crime? What did the murder weapon feel like in their hands? Were they cold? Hot? Hungry? Aroused? Did they enjoy the screams and agony of their victim or did they, even for a moment, feel remorse? These questions swirl in Goren's mind and soon nothing in Goren's external environment matters or is remembered. All that matters is Goren putting himself in the mind of the killer. It's s a fraught mental process, one that so often had Eames checking in on her partner, forcing him out of his thoughts, reminding him to eat or, occasionally, to go to the bathroom. To an outsider, it was uncomfortable to watch or even hard to stomach. But it got results.
Eames sat at the end of the table watching her partner stare at Declan's phone and financial history, and his own. The process wasn't working and time was running out; It was nearly 12:30pm now and they would have to transport Goren to Arraignment at 2:45 to get him in court by 4. Eames could see the desperation in her partner as he was well aware that his time was running out for him to solve his own frame up.
All she could do is exist with him as he tried to make it work and pray that he had an epiphany in the next few hours. It was not guaranteed he would be allowed back to MCS Holding.
An hour ago a junior detective had delivered Eames a statement from Skyline Publishing detailing Declan's event appearances with exact times, including his hotel rooms and contact people, all necessary to establish a timeline. She had a team calling those contacts and getting verification about Declan's whereabouts.
Goren stood up from the desk and crossed his arms to absorb this new evidence even though he'd already studied it twice. There was a knock on the door. It was Ross who gestured Eames out of the room. A patrol officer took Eames' place to act as a guard to Goren.
Ross led Eames into the Observation Room and closed the door.
"What is it, Captain?"
"I reached out to a friend who has a friend in the FBI who knows a guy in Army CID who I now owe an extremely large favor. He got me these…" Ross opened the manila folder and revealed a stack of papers. The first paper showed printed off photos that had been emailed to Ross.
Eames took the page and studied it. It was a photo of twenty or so U.S. soldiers posed outside base housing somewhere, in two rows of ten, all looking towards the camera and smiling brightly. They all wore green woodland camouflage BDUs. Eames studied each man (and a woman) closely in the front and noticed their insignia: every person had a badge on their uniform, that is until her eyes fell on the last man on the right: he wore no badge and civvies and a familiar hat…
It was Declan Gage.
He was years younger but looked the same amount of unkempt and unshaved.
And behind him was Sergeant First Class Robert Goren. The Sergeant was smiling a genuine smile with a cigarette dangling from his mouth, not the forced smile he sometimes used when he was required to smile and had to force himself to contort his face. No, It was a genuine smile and on top of that, he had a friendly left arm wrapped around Declan's torso, a sign of their close friendship. Both men smiled as if they were in the middle of a joke. Eames studied the two and wished she had a magnifying glass.
Eames broke her attention from them and studied the background. She didn't see any signs or identifying structures. She finally looked back to Ross. "Where was this taken?"
"South Korea, not too far from the DMZ. It was taken on a unit picture day. CID 'borrowed' Declan from the FBI while they hunted Sebastian, and apparently Declan requested Goren be transferred to Korea from Germany. According to this," Ross pulled out a paper from the back of the stack, it was a personnel file summary of Goren's Army file, "…the Army liked to keep Goren in Europe since he spoke German so well."
Eames nodded. "He told me once that he only did a six months tour in Korea but I knew he worked with Declan there. So, they met before Sebastian?" Eames had the idea that Bobby met Gage while hunting Sebastian in Korea. Of course, Bobby rarely speaks about his time in the Army so he had never bothered or had cause to set her straight.
Ross nodded and flipped to the third page of Goren's personnel summary. "Yeah, according to my source from CID, Goren had unforeseen 'family obligations' while stationed in Berlin and needed to go back stateside. Rather than granting him an extended leave, his CO agreed he could go to Quantico for 'advanced training' and deal with his family problems on a two week leave and the weekends. That's where he met Declan." Ross pointed out the passage in the file about Goren attending Profiling, Advanced Forensics, and Enhanced Evidence Recovery classes.
Eames face fell. "I take it that 'family obligation' was his Mom?"
Ross shrugged. "You'd have to ask him that. Anyway, what I find interesting is that, according to my source, in the next year Declan somehow got wind of an American service member raping German school girls, so he 'offered' his services to CID out of the blue and ended up over there working that taskforce."
Eames contemplated this. "Did your source say they thought Goren reached out?" That was Eames first thought.
"That's the thing. Goren wasn't on that task force. He was in another part of the country working a drug task force where our boys were the transporters. He mostly handled drugs cases and black-market goods, and petty murders. It's why he went to Narcotics straight out of the academy…" Ross realized he was off track. "Anyway, isn't it a bit of a coincidence that Declan just happened to offer help to the Army in Germany after meeting Goren?"
Ross's words caused Eames' stomach to drop. It was no coincidence, Declan had taken a deep interest in Goren at the very least. She held up her hands towards the file. "Do you mind if I take this to Goren?"
"No, I don't. I wanted you to have facts down before you bring it up with him." He handed the folder to Eames and she replaced the photo on the top of the stack. Once she did, she suddenly had a thought. "Captain, do you think it would be possible to push Goren's arraignment back to night court? We're running out of time.
Ross sighed. "I'll work it out with Upstairs and the DAs. I'll argue that his attorney won't be available until after 6." Goren hadn't known it, but Eames had gotten in touch with Goren's friend the family law attorney. He had agreed he would meet Bobby at the courthouse.
Eames thanked him and they headed out of the room. Ross headed to his office and Eames headed for the Interrogation room. She found Bobby right where she left him, staring at the book tour timeline.
"Did you think of anything?"
"No." His answer was gruff. He was back fully in the pit of despair.
She sat back at the table as the patrolman left the room and closed the door behind him. "Bobby, tell me about when you first met Declan."
She emphasized her request by laying out the contents of the manila folder on the table in order so he could see them. It wasn't perfect as it was printed on two sided paper.
He sat in his chair facing the two sided mirror and studied everything and the picture, thumbing through the pages. "This is from my Army file, Eames." He was shocked to see that part of his life printed on paper and displayed in front of him. The pictures opened up memories and feelings he had partitioned off years ago when he transitioned from Army CID to civilian life.
Eames had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Every now and then he was Captain Obvious. "I know. Ross managed a huge favor from someone in CID."
Goren looked concerned. "Who?"
"I don't know. He didn't say…"
She watched as his eyes floated back down to his unit's photograph in Korea. He was remembering that day vividly. "You two look close," She observed, now looking over his shoulder.
"He was stoned on the local weed. I had to help him stay upright." Eames rolled her eyes. That wasn't hard to believe.
"I asked you about your first time meeting Declan." Eames transitioned into her interrogation voice without intending to.
It signaled Goren that was he was answering questions now, and not asking them. It was important because Eames couldn't be sure they would get his arraignment pushed back so she needed to pay attention to not wasting time. Also, the video from this Interrogation room could be used in Goren's trial if it got to that point, heaven forbid.
"He instructed Profiling when I was at Quantico. The Army sent me there to attend classes."
Eames nodded. "Why did you ask to go stateside? What was the 'family obligation' you had to take care of? Was it your Mom?"
Goren was shocked she asked him this. "How did you know about that?"
"Bobby, that isn't important right now. Please, answer the question. It can be important. You know how this works."
Bobby sighed. "Uh, it was my D-Dad. He had a heart attack."
"What about Frank? Why did you have to handle it?"
Goren let out a frustrated grunt. He didn't often talk so openly to Eames about his family without a reason and it was his least favorite subject. Eames more often found about his childhood or family life when he was using snippets of it to connect to suspects or victims. In fact, that had been how she learned about his mother's schizophrenia: he had talked about it with a victim's son one day. He didn't like to 'burden' her. Goren's knee bobbed as he talked. "The hospital tried calling Frank and never got a hold of him. Dad came to enough and he told them about me and they managed to reach me in Frankfurt. My CO let me take a TDY to Quantico so I could handle it."
"So you were dealing with your sick Dad while you were in Declan's class. Did you talk to him about your Dad?"
Bobby's eyes flitted up. He was replaying memories of his time at Quantico. "Yeah. It came up. He-He noticed I was looking at my watch a lot and then left class in a hurry one day. I was waiting for a call from the hospital. He asked me about it after class."
Eames envisioned Goren with a crew cut in his early twenties nervously watching the time as he took notes in class, wanting to concentrate on the class out of legitimate interest and being unable to, and then racing out of class to pace outside a payphone in some hallway. "Did you spend a lot of time with Declan outside of class?"
The nervous knee bob ceased and was replaced with tapping fingers, one finger tapping in a row on his left hand. "He invited me to dinner. That's-That's where I met Jo."
Eames noted how his stutter was getting more pronounced, a testament to how uncomfortable he was. She was about to ask another question when there was a knock on the other side of the glass. Eames laid a comforting hand on Bobby's shoulder and left the room, passing the patrolman who took position inside as she passed the threshold.
Ross was standing in the Observation Room with yet another folder. He cut to the chase. "Prince William County deputies and Virginia State Police just finished enacting a search warrant of Declan Gage's house issued by their DA on behalf of our DA's. They were told to search for anything relating to Nicole Wallace and Robert and Frank Goren and got access to Gage's laptop. They found possible correspondence between Wallace and Gage, though Wallace was using a pseudonym. The emails talked about Wallace being a fan of Declan's book and their mutual 'friend,' Bobby."
For a second Eames wondered what probable cause they used to get such an expansive warrant but she didn't voice the question and instead sighed in relief. It was great news and she wasn't going to trivialize it with useless information. A Brother in Blue being framed for murder would be enough for a warrant if the right judge was asked, and anyway, it established a direct connection between Gage and Wallace, perfect defense material if it came to that. "Declan wrote about Nicole, of course he would get her attention."
Ross continued, "They found more…" Ross opened the folder he was holding. A paper clipped to one side was a printout of a particularly grim email : "It would be a shame if our dear sweet Bobby lost another relative.: "His Mother's birthday is coming up. We should get him a consolation gift.: We should meet up and discuss this. Looking forward to meeting you, Love. But where?"
A box indicated the next email had been deleted and that the CSU of the VA State Police were working to recover it, as well as access GirlfromOz's account to validate Nicole Wallace's ownership of it.
Eames read the exchange three times. It wasn't surprising they talked in code. They wouldn't feel too comfortable being completely open with each other about their thoughts for fear of being betrayed by the other. If one was found out, they could use the vagueness of their words as plausible deniability.
Ross have Eames the time to study the emails before interrupting her examination. "Eames, there's more."
Ross pulled out another paper from the folder and handed it to her. She set down the email exchange paper and studied this new evidence. It was photographs of handwritten notes in one of Declan's old journals from 1987. His handwriting was messy scribbles, almost decipherable in some spots. Eames' stomach dropped as she read every word.
"Subject is 26yo Caucasian male born in Brooklyn, NY. Thrives in routine of military life after living in chaotic home. Schizophrenic mother. Gambler alcoholic absentee father. Grew up poor. Spent 3 months in foster care at age of thirteen. Taught skill of lying by father to hide affairs with other women from mother. Applied to Air Force first and other branches and rejected due to mother's health. Finally approved for enlistment in Army owing to high intelligence and personality assessment scores, and recommendation of local recruiter. Condition of enlistment into Army is that subject agree to yearly psych assessment and be barred from Leadership duties until such time it's decided mother's condition was not inherited. Subject subjected mostly to mental abuse as he was gaslighted about mother's condition and blamed for father's abandonment by mother while older brother is favorited. Subject has intense hatred for father but feels obligated to care for him and complicated feelings for his brother. Subject has not admitted to killing animals or wetting bed as a teen but admitted interest in death and the process of dying. Subject is extremely observant of people and surroundings and shows aptitude for reading intentions and knowing how to manipulate people for desired outcomes, and is autodidact with wide interest and knowledge in many fields of study, speaks many languages, and shown immense talent in criminal profiling. Despite this, subject has been nurtured in prime conditions for serial criminal behavior. Time will tell how he handles civilian life outside of strict confines of military service."
Eames felt nauseous as she read. It didn't help that she learned things about her partner that she hadn't known, like that he had been removed from Frances Goren's custody and placed in foster care for three years or that he had initially been rejected from military service by the other branches due to his mother's health. She had never questioned that he was able to enlist in the first place but now that she knew, it did make sense that the various military branches would be hesitant to allow him in their ranks when there was the possibility that he could develop schizophrenia. After all, It was a condition that developed in adulthood and could endanger the lives of Bobby's fellow soldiers were he to lose his grip on reality.
But why had Declan felt the need to profile Bobby, anyway? Because Bobby might as well have been a bug for Declan to study, Eames answered her own question, imagining Declan meeting Bobby and being fascinated with his home life, studying him like a slide under a microscope.
Eames finally looked back to Ross. "These emails are great for Bobby's defense but this profile is great for Declan's defense."
Ross looked at the time. "I couldn't get them to agree to move his Arraignment back. It's still at 4. Tell him I'm sorry."
Ross's words lingered as he and Eames held each other's gaze. Ross assumed Goren would be spending the night at Riker's.
They parted ways and Eames returned to the Interrogation room.
Bobby was now looking at his own LUDs. He had pinned them next to Declan's. Both LUD histories took up five pages because they had gone so far back. Eames studied his face and recognized the look on his face: he was on to something.
"Find something?" She asked, eagerly. He had stared at all of that before but hadn't been able to concentrate, now perhaps the pressure was getting to him and he was able to force himself to focus under those conditions.
Bobby nodded his head slightly, unsure. He pointed to the fourth page on his LUDs and the fourth page on Gage's. "This right here, he called me repeatedly, starting at 6:32pm and twice an hour until 2:47am, and here, you can see he received a call from this number at 3:03am. It's a payphone in Queens." He sounded more like himself, at least in that moment.
Eames joined her partner at the bulletin board and studied the numbers. "How do you know that's a payphone number?" The question left her lips and Bobby looked away. "Bobby…"
He forced himself to look at her. "Because I was calling him from a payphone in Queens."
Eames jaw dropped. "What were you doing in Queens at 3 in the morning?"
He turned away from her slightly and shifted his weight on his heels. "I went there looking for Donny. You know, shelters and churches, but then I ended up in a bar and well, that night is a bit hazy. I called Declan to come and get me but he wasn't in the city anymore and the bar asked me to leave. I was nearly arrested on a 240.20 violation." He winced from the glare she was now shooting his way.
"How exactly were you almost arrested for disorderly conduct?"
"I was jaywalking drunk and couldn't remember my way to the subway," he answered quietly, ashamed of himself. He had always prided himself on the ease in which he could navigate all five boroughs and it was hard to admit alcohol had zapped him of that talent.
Eames nodded. You get bored patrol officers late at night and they see a man crossing the street off an intersection leaving a bar and they're usually going to 'investigate.' "You didn't tell them you're a cop, did you?" She asked the question hoping Bobby wasn't that stupid when he was drunk.
He shook his head. "No, no. They asked me for my license and saw my military ID when I opened my wallet. They uh, gave me a lift to the subway and told the transit cop to make sure I got back to Brooklyn. They didn't recognize me, or at least I don't think they did."
She sighed in relief only to think of a question. "You didn't have your phone on you?"
He shook his head. "Forgot it at home."
She rolled her eyes. "What if I was trying to get a hold of you?"
"I guess you would have called the Marines out to find me." It was a joke. She glared. He changed his tune. "I'm not sure I would have answered a call from you that night, Eames. I only cared about finding Donny back then."
She shook her head and was about to chastise him about how she cares about him and whatnot and thought better of it. They had veered off track. Time was running out. It was already 1:30pm and they needed to cover a lot of ground. She reached all the way up and laid a hand on his shoulder and guided him back to his chair. "Bobby, I need you to look at things. The Prince William County DA's and Virginia State Police and local LEOs executed a search warrant on behalf of our DA's. They found emails exchanged between Declan and Nicole Wallace."
She opened the manila folder and produced the pages with the email threads and spread them out in front of him as she stood next to him, leaning over his shoulder.
She sat in the chair at the end of the table and said nothing more and instead opted to just let him process what the email exchange said and what it all meant. He took a full minute before he pulled his focus away from the table and back to his partner. His voice was shaky and beads of sweat were starting to form on his forehead. "He talked to Nicole. Plotted with her to kill Frank? W-Why w-would he do that?" He looked to Eames with the same despondent and lost expression he had had in that park. It was a bit sad he didn't have the ducks on the water to shift his focus to now.
She reached for his hand to comfort him. "I don't know, Bobby. I wish I did."
He let out an exasperated sigh and ran his left hand through his unkempt hair. "They're t-talking in c-code. Plausible deniability. This isn't proof that they're conspiring."
She nodded. "I know, Bobby. I know. But there is something else you should see and it could help you in your defense, but it might be hard for you to read," she explained as she pulled out Declan's profile of Goren and laid it in front of him.
Bobby read it and she watched his face as he did so. She was shocked when he merely scoffed, rolled his eyes and flicked it away as a minor annoyance.
"He wrote all of that and that's your reaction?"
He shrugged. "I already knew Declan thought I could 'go either way.' Jo told me he said that when she confessed to those murders and to what she did to you. I came from one of those 'certain homes' that breed serial killers, you know." His face fell for a second until he laughed quietly as a thought struck him. "And that was before he knew who my father was. Besides, he and Jo used to bond over doing shit like this with everyone in their life. It's how they bonded. No wonder she turned into a killer."
She wasn't keen on continuing the conversation on this topic and indicated the paper with a finger. "You never told me you were in foster care for three months when you were thirteen."
"That's because I don't really look back on it as foster care, Eames. I was only in a group home for three days when another librarian, Mrs. Adams, found out they removed me from my Mom's care and petitioned to take me in. She was close to my Mom, and was like an aunt to me." Goren seemed to lose himself in memory, his eyes softened, "My first day with her, she took me shopping. Got me all new clothes my size and my first size 13 sneakers. Back then, I was wearing my Dad's clothes, or what he left behind. I told her it was all too much money but she insisted. I paid her back by the time I left for boot camp."
As a cop, Eames had a pretty good understanding of the city foster care system and the inner workings of social services. She knew that they didn't normally remove children from their home without good reason. Family Services, even back in the sixties, were hesitant to burden the foster care system even more than they had to, but it was also odd that he was removed for such a short time. "If you don't mind me asking, Bobby, what happened? Why did they remove you from your mother?"
Bobby glanced her way with an assessing eye. She was asking as his close friend who cared about him and he decided he could answer. "Mom, uh, beat me. She uh," He paused and inhaled and exhaled deeply fighting back sobs developing in his throat, accompanying the tears welling up in his eyes, fighting the trauma that affected him after all these years. "She split my head open right here…" He pointed to a spot on the top of his head covered by his hair. "I bled badly and Frankie he uh, threw me in the back of his 30-year-old Ford pickup and carried me into the nearest Emergency. I was already bigger than him, so that had to be a sight." He offered the last sentence as if he was narrating the memory he saw in his mind, making a realization that he hadn't considered ever before. He had passed up Frank in size when he was only 12 and a half and it made Frank angry because he was older, he should be naturally taller.
Eames squeezed his hand. "Why did she do it, Bobby?"
Goren fought to smile for Eames' benefit. "That's the thing, she didn't know she was d-doing it, Alex. I came home after curfew and opened the door and all the s-sudden I just feel these blows over my head. The house was dark and as soon as the door closed, she started. I kept yelling, 'Mom, it's me! Bobby!' and she just kept hitting, screaming about 'bad men' and 'demons' while I'm on the floor in the fetal position covering my head. F-Frank must have stopped her because all the sudden she stopped and went quiet and he was pulling me off the floor. You know, she never ever physically hurt us when she was on her meds. It was only when she was off them or they weren't working and she didn't recognize us."
Eames forced herself to keep a neutral expression. It was gut wrenching to hear about Bobby's experiences from childhood and he used her first name which was a signal to her about how he was feeling. She had known his home life hadn't been great and that he did suffer through forms of abuse. She wanted to cry with him as tears continued to fall down his cheek but she willed herself to steel her expression. It would make his feelings now worse if he saw that he made her cry. She didn't know what to say but she knew she should say something so she picked the words that sounded right even if they could be wrong. "I'm sorry you went through that, Bobby. I can't imagine what it was like to grow up with a mother who could lose touch with reality like that."
He sniffled and ran a hand across his face and forced another smile. "Well, she had an excuse. He didn't." His eyes suddenly went wide and he stood up and went back to the bulletin board. He had an epiphany. "Eames, why did he try so hard to get a hold of me this night?"
He looked at her expectantly, pointing at the repeated calls to his cell phone. She frowned, at first thinking he was both referring to William Goren, and then understanding he had switched back to referring to Declan. "I d-don't know."
"It's because he cared about me. He told me once I'm like a son to him." The sobs had left his throat and he had fight back in his voice. Something sparked in him and he had lifted himself out of that pit.
"So why is he framing you?"
"Maybe he's not framing me to hurt me. Maybe in his own twisted way, he's framing me because he thinks he's helping me?"
"He's helping you by plotting with Nicole to kill Frank and then killing Nicole and framing you for both murders? How does that work?" That was twisted logic for any psychopath.
He sighed. "I don't know, but it's the only thing that makes sense. The only thing."
Eames absorbed this new idea and ran it against the other facts and evidence of the case. "Bobby, I think it makes sense and you're right that nothing else makes sense, but the case against you is stronger and holds up with actual evidence. Evidence that can't really be contested, except maybe the insurance policy if they can figure out the IP address where it was purchased and prove you didn't use that computer. Unfortunately, this is just a theory."
Bobby was about to reply. He didn't get a chance. Ross opened the door. Behind him were Moran and the same uniformed officers as the previous day.
One of the uniformed officers held iron shackles. Eames went wide eyed in anger, whereas Goren looked at them with neutral eyes. Bobby, relaxed his stance and held out his hands as the officers surrounded him and began the process of shackling him.
"Are those really necessary right now?" Eames asked, incredulous. She directed her question past Ross to Moran who was unused to Det. Alexandra Eames speaking to him with any attitude other than all-out respect. Every man in the room found themselves unable to look at Eames. They weren't naïve. They knew why she asked it: putting the shackles on Goren now meant he was going to be paraded through the MCS and around 1PP like a common criminal, and brothers in blue, even the dirtiest sleaze who ever wore a badge, were almost always treated with courtesy of dignity. Eames challenged them on this because Goren didn't have a lawyer to do it for him.
"It's these or a jail bus," Moran growled, chastising Eames with his tone.
Goren shot his partner one of those looks that spoke to her without words. Don't risk your badge over me. "Eames, I'm fine," he verbalized for the benefit of everyone else. Goren had long ago come to terms with the fact that he would always be an outsider to the collective NYPD. He didn't expect to be given the common courtesies as a cop that were usually standard in police culture, especially not after finding a dead rat in his desk. He had also come to terms with the idea of being shackled hand and foot to the courthouse: he had, after all, been legally indicted on two counts of First-Degree murder, and one count of assault with a deadly weapon, and while the death penalty was off the table, LWOP may as well be a death sentence unless he lived in solitary for the rest of his life after conviction. Realistically, they had reason to shackle him if he wasn't being shipped on a jail bus. He was the definition of a flight risk.
The officers finished shackling Goren and looked to Moran for their marching orders.
"Okay, Boys, we'll take him out the way we brought him in."
Moran filed out of the cramped room, followed by Ross, then Goren and his escorts with Eames trailing behind. Ross turned to them both but faced Goren as they walked. "I just got word. You'll have a lawyer waiting for you at Courthouse Holding."
Goren was surprised. "I didn't call a lawyer."
"No, but your friend the family law attorney got word you were indicted. He called Upstairs asking for your PBA rep."
Goren scoffed, amused at his friend having the misguided idea that the PBA or Detective's Endowment would so much as give him toilet paper so he could wipe his ass. Eames joined in his dark amusement.
Goren rode with Ross and Moran in an unmarked SUV the courthouse with another patrol officer sitting with him in the back. Eames rode with the others in a following SUV. 45 minutes later, Goren was escorted to a single occupancy cell in the courthouse holding area. Dan Nicholson was waiting for him.
They removed Goren's shackles and the two shook hands. "Oh, Bobby, it's good to see you. I'll work for you pro bono until we can find you a defense attorney from trial. You're last on the docket." Dan wasted no time.
Eames entered the room as the patrol officers left. Dan spotted her badge and was about to ask her to leave for attorney client privilege but Goren read his mind. "She's my partner, Dan. We want her here."
Dan was skeptical. "Really? Why?"
"Because I know my partner isn't a murderer and is being framed by Declan Gage."
Nicholson's jaw dropped. He looked to Goren. "That profiler you worked with?"
Goren nodded. "Yeah. Him."
"Why?"
With that question asked, Eames spoke for Goren, giving the attorney a rundown of their theory that Declan Gage was perpetuating a frame job against Goren. Meanwhile, Goren paced the back wall of the cell, working out his nervous energy and collecting his thoughts. He had gone through a roller coaster of emotions in the last days, especially in regards to the memories of his childhood from the last few hours, and Eames knew he needed time and space to self-regulate as he hadn't been able to in the last few days. Dan seemed to understand and directed his attention to Eames, trusting her the way his friend did.
"So your theory hinges on Declan Gage thinking of him as a son?" There was concern in the attorney's voice. The timeline of Gage's book, the email exchange, the fact that Bobby had told Declan about his true paternity and money troubles while on suspension were good factors that supported that theory, particularly because there were phone records that detailed how long the two had talked on different days, but overall, the theory was hindered by the question of why.
Eames acknowledged his skepticism. "Yeah, that's the part that sucks."
"Is there any concrete proof that Declan Gage has said anything to that effect?" He once again directed the question to Eames.
It was Bobby who answered. "No." Goren took his place at Eames' right side, having finished his pacing and gotten his mind back where he needed it. This declarative sentence led them to a discussion of whom, in a pinch, could testify to Bobby's relationship with Gage from his Army days. It lasted until it was time for Bobby to go before the judge.
The courtroom gallery had been emptied with the exception of reporters, Eames, Ross and Moran and all that remained were the Judge Clark Szevery, his clerk, bailiffs, court reporter, defendant and attorney, and the Assistant DA, Nicolita Forsyth, and her second chair. Eames was annoyed by the news reporters' presence but Goren shot her a silent look that told her to just ignore them. If they wrote anything about Goren and he was vindicated, they would have to retract their articles out of keeping a good relationship with the NYPD, and well, if Goren weren't vindicated and went down the river for murder, it didn't matter much what they wrote to begin with.
Before the traditional proceedings began, the Judge addressed Nicholson. "Counselor, you look familiar but I can't say you've stood before me in my court."
Nicholson bobbed his head. "No, Sir. I don't usually handle criminal cases. I'm a family law attorney but I am representing my good friend until he can find a proper defense attorney."
Szevery was satisfied with this discussion and began the official arraignment. "Robert Goren, on the charges of First-Degree Murder of your brother Frank Goren, and the First-Degree Murder of Nicole Wallace, and the Assault With A Deadly Weapon of Declan Gage, how do you plead?"
Goren stood (shackled again). "Not guilty on all counts, your honor."
Judge Szevery eyed Goren, trying to get a feel for the large detective. He was habitually wary of cops who came before his bench on the other side of the justice system. "What does the state have to say about bail?"
The Assistant DA didn't hesitate. "Your honor, the state asks that this defendant be held without bail." It was by no means, surprising.
The Judge looked to Nicholson in expectation of a traditional counter offer. Nicholson stood straighter. "Your Honor, if I may address this matter now, my defendant and his partner, Det. Alex Eames, have a strong theory that Mr. Gage has framed my client for murder. If the Court allows it, I would like to apprise the Court and State of this now and spare my client any unnecessary time spent on Riker's."
Forsyth practically giggled. "Your Honor, this is not the proper time to discuss alternative theories for the defendant's defense. It's an arraignment." Forsyth realized the tone she had just taken at the end of her sentence and quickly covered for herself, "I am sorry for that tone, Your Honor. That was unintended."
Szevery held her in his direct attention. "I'm sure it was, counselor," he chastised the ADA. He then consulted his notes. He wanted all his facts together before he decided how to proceed. "Mr. Goren," Szevery addressed Goren purposely leaving his title out, "I have here a MIRANDA waiver signed by you. You didn't think you needed an attorney present with you for questioning?"
Goren rose from his chair once again. "No, Sir. I have faith in my department to clear my name." As he spoke, he felt Eames staring at his back, calling him out on his bullshit, even if there was the tiniest bit of truth in his words. He had given up and that's why he really waived. They both knew it.
Judge Szevery returned his attention to the Prosecutor's table. "The defendant has recently suffered the loss of his brother. I find it poor taste that the DA's office didn't order Interrogation be halted until he agreed to Counsel." His words remained heavy in the air. He was addressing the potentiality of Goren being acquitted due to the Prosecution mishandling his case in regards to his state of mind while being questioned.
Both ADAs at the Prosecutor's table went white a sheet. Forsyth rose from her chair. "Yes, Your Honor, we erred in that regard."
Szevery said nothing more and looked towards the few people sitting in the gallery. "Is Det. Alex Eames here?"
Eames was caught off guard by being addressed but nonetheless stood up and spoke loud enough to be heard. She met eyes for a moment with Goren who was just as shocked, "I am Det. Eames, Sir."
Szevery gestured Eames forward and she crossed the gate opened by a bailiff and stood between the two tables. "Det. Eames, before I make a ruling on the Defense's request, I would like to hear from you. Are you willing to stake your career on the innocence of your partner?"
Eames nodded immediately. "Yes, Your Honor."
It was what Szevery needed to hear. He addressed everyone in the room. "With respect to the Prosecution in this manner, Counselors, we will all hear about this theory from Det. Eames in my chambers. Court Officers, the defendant is to remain where he is. Court is in recess," he offered the last sentence for the court reporter.
Eames joined the two ADAs, the Judge, and Nicholson in the Judge's chambers. Once there, there was a bit of activity as everyone found seats. Eames ended up the only one standing with all eyes on her. Szevery was new to the bench and he was relatively unknown to her. "Tell us about this theory, Detective," The Judge commanded.
Eames didn't have any documents or any of the material they had staged in the Interrogation room back at 1PP but she didn't need them. She walked the room through the theory just as she had previously done so for Nicholson.
Back in the courtroom, Ross and Moran stared at Goren's back as they waited. Goren merely sat in his chair, looking down quietly, fighting the urge to bounce his knee due to the sound of the chain that remained at his ankles. "What exactly is this theory?" Moran whispered harshly to Ross, angry he was out of the loop.
Ross whispered back. "They believe Gage has framed Goren for murder to help him."
Moran nearly choked from controlling his laughter. "Goren really is insane."
Goren did hear this but didn't give any indication that he did. If he was vindicated, the Chief Of D's will be eating crow.
Back in the Judge's chambers, Eames had laid out their whole theory but found herself having to go into greater detail about certain facts, including Bobby's solo undercover operation in Tates Corrections.
"That Unnamed Police Officer was Goren?" Forsyth asked, in disbelief. When the Tates Corrections scandal had hit the press, every state law enforcement and justice agency had been speculating on the identity of the 'Unnamed Police Officer' who had nearly died to expose the abuse in the Mental Observation Unit, and those who had known had been barred from discussing it without reason. The ADA was about to ask another question once she digested this turn of events but Szevery raised a hand to his chest to quiet her.
"Ladies and Gentleman, I believe I have heard enough about this theory. Let's return to court, shall we?" He rose from his chair behind his desk and everyone filed out after him and resumed their places.
Court was called back in session as the people who had been left rose for the judge.
"Please be seated," Szevery called and gave them a few moments to sit. "After hearing the Defense's theory, I have decided it is an acceptable theory, despite lack of reason why. I am asking Major Case squad to narrow down the answer to that question in the interest of justice for a fellow officer. As for the matter of bail, I am unwilling to submit a decorated Detective to the conditions on Riker's island. However, I do not believe in letting indicted persons out on their own without supervision. Alex Eames, please rise."
Eames was once again shocked to be called by the Judge. She rose. "Yes, Sir?"
"Detective, you previously told me you would stake your career on your partner's innocence, but would you stake your freedom?"
Eames took a few seconds to process but replied, "Yes, Sir," wholeheartedly.
"Good, because I am releasing Mr. Goren into your custody. If he does not make it to his next court appearance, you will be subject to 6 months on Riker's Island."
That evening, Captain Ross lead Declan Gage through the MCS Squad Room…
The End