| Partners |
| Wednesday, June 16, 2004, 27th precinct. Joe Fontana got in extra early that morning. He had tried to talk with Lt. Van Buren yesterday afternoon, but after his partner had left her office she'd gotten tied up on the phone. He was determined to address this issue today one way or another. He was already on his second cup of coffee when she arrived. He gave her a couple of minutes to get settled, then approached her office. "Lieutenant? Got a minute?" Anita looked up and steeled herself. She didn't like Fontana much, but she was his boss. She had to keep her personal feelings personal. Keeping her face carefully blank, she nodded. "Sure." Joe shut the door behind him and took one of the chairs opposite her desk. "About this case �" "Ed told me you two had some words about it yesterday." Joe grimaced. "I � may have overreacted. But so did he. I'm getting pretty damned sick and tired of being blamed for Logan's death. I never even met the guy. OK, so I got the job he wanted. That's not my fault!" He was getting pretty worked up pretty quick. Van Buren slapped him down. "Detective! Am I gonna have to take you off this case?" That really pissed Joe off. "For what? Christ, I'm already the only one with any hint of objectivity on this case!" "That may be, Detective, but if you can't keep your temper I'm sure I can find something around here for you to do!" Joe sat up, surprised by her words. He hadn't expected such toughness from this lady cop who hadn't even made Captain. He realized she wasn't going to put up with a temper tantrum. "Yes, Ma'am," he replied, almost meekly. Anita nodded. "That's better. But I think it's time we get some answers to the circumstances of your arrival. And I see your partner has just arrived. He deserves to hear this too." She got up and opened the door, waving Ed into the office. As he walked in, Ed felt the tension in the air; you could practically cut it with a knife. "What's up, Lieu?" He took the other guest chair as she settled back down behind her desk. "Joe was just about to tell us how he came to our happy little family here." Fontana sighed. He didn't see how it was relevant to the case, but if it was getting in the way of working with his partner, he supposed an explanation was in order. "OK. It's like this. I've been a cop all my life, back in Chicago. A couple of years ago, I hit the lottery. Big time. Quit the job. Spent the next six months dodging relatives who wanted to spend my winnings for me, so I moved East. Been living the high life here in New York since then, but it got stale. I missed being a cop. So a couple of months back I dusted off an old resume and applied to the NYPD. I guess the timing was just right, because Commander Dietz called me right away." Anita interrupted him. "Dietz? Charlie Dietz hired you?" Her face was angry. Hesitantly, Joe answered, "Yeah. Is there something wrong with that?" Anita didn't say anything just yet. "Did he say anything about me?" Joe shrugged. "You know, now that you mention it, he did. He kind of implied that there was room to move up around here because the Lieutenant here wasn't, uh, well connected." Anita's fist slammed down on her desk. "That bastard! He KNEW I had asked for Mike. He wanted any excuse to deny my request. So your resume came along at just the right time �" Joe could see she was fuming. "Did I miss something here?" He looked at Ed, who just shrugged and looked confused. Anita sighed. "About 6 years ago I took the Captain's exam. A white woman with the same score as me and less experience was promoted and I wasn't. I sued the department, and lost. Charlie Dietz has had it in for me ever since. He likes to say it's coming from higher up, but he takes too much personal pleasure in denying anything I request. Good Lord, I thought this was over." She shook her head sadly. Mike had lost the promotion because Dietz found a way to get back at her once again. Ed gave Fontana a good once over. It made sense. Somebody born to that much money would be subtler, not flash it around as much as Fontana did. And he WAS a good cop. He had the street cred. Ed had been awfully rough on the guy � maybe he ought to give him another chance. Joe turned to face his partner. "I didn't buy this position, Ed. But I guess I can't blame you for thinking I did �" Ed sighed. "Just wish you'd told us from the start, man. The way you flash the cash and the expensive clothes, then clam up about it, seemed like you were hiding something." Joe nodded. "Yeah, my money. Once people know how much I have, they want a piece of it." Anita grinned. "Well, I guess we don't have to worry about you being bought." Joe chuckled. "No, Ma'am, that you don't. But I'd love to see some perp try! We'd nail his ass to the wall!" Ed joined in the laughter. It was starting to look like this might work out after all. "So you two ok now?" They both nodded. "Then get to work. Find the bastard who killed one of our own." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ They were working their way through the LUD's on Mike's phone comparing to the 'little black book' to see who he'd been talking to recently, when Ed's phone rang. "Green." "Ed, it's Fin. Listen, we got a lead last night on a guy Mike may have been seeing last couple of weeks. First name Thomas, don't have anything else yet. Anything in the LUD's that might help?" "Hang on, let me check." Ed covered the receiver. "Joe. Any calls to or from somebody named Thomas? First name." Joe checked the report. "Yeah. Looks like several calls both ways the last two weeks. Number listed as Thomas Miller." "Fin, we got a name. Thomas Miller. We'll get an address �. Wait a minute Joe's got it. 25 West 70th Street, Apt 2100." Just then a courier came in carrying a box. "Det. Green?" Joe waved him over and signed for the box. "It's from Silvera. Why don't we start going through this while they track down Miller?" Ed nodded and spoke into the phone. "We just got Logan's case files and such. We'll start on that angle while you go after Miller." "Got it." Fin snapped the phone shut. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Half an hour later, Munch & Fin pulled up in front of a very ritzy high-rise that overlooked Central Park. Fin whistled. "Looks like our 'Daddy' is a regular Daddy Warbucks." Munch just smirked at the comment. The doorman gave them an icy stare as they approached flashing badges. "We need to talk to Thomas Miller." The doorman was unimpressed. "Mr. Miller isn't home." He didn't offer any further info. Munch glared at him. "Do you know where he works?" The doorman dug in his heels; it was his job to protect his tenants. "I'm sorry, I can't help you." Fin cut in. "Like hell you can't. Doormen know everything. This guy ever come see Mr. Miller?" He showed Mike's photo. That at least got a raised eyebrow and a look of distaste. "Yes, I believe I've seen him a few times." "Coming or going?" The doorman hesitated. Fin pressed. "Look man, this guy is dead. If you know something and you're not tellin', we can arrest you for obstruction of justice. Now talk." "I've seen him leaving in the early morning �" The partners shared a glance and nodded. "OK, so now tell me where Mr. Miller works and we'll leave you alone." The doorman sighed. "He's in Venture Capital. Has his own firm, offices down in the Financial District, Whitehall Street I think." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ed and Joe weren't getting anywhere on the stuff Frankie Silvera sent over. None of the cases she and Mike had worked on recently seemed to have any loose ends. Mike's locker contained the usual stuff; no hints of his extracurricular activities. He'd been good at hiding. They took a break from going through Mike's stuff when Fin called again. Took them a couple of minutes to track down Miller's VC firm on Whitehall Street while the other pair of detectives headed in that general direction. The precinct was pretty quiet, so as they settled back down with Logan's stuff, Ed asked, "So how much did you win, anyway?" Fontana eyed him suspiciously. "Why? You hittin' me up for a loan already?" Ed made a face. "Nah, man. Just curious. Really." Joe shrugged. Keeping his voice low, he answered, "23 Mil" Ed whistled. "Damn. I could keep plenty busy off the job with that kind of money!" Joe just shrugged again. "I missed police work, Ed. It's all I've ever done. The one thing I'm really good at." He looked at his partner with eyes begging for acceptance. Ed realized his opinion mattered to Joe; he was the 'experienced' New York cop. He knew he'd been hard on the guy from the beginning because he didn't trust him. Time to fix that. He met Joe's eyes and nodded. "I hear you, man. And I'm sorry if I haven't been giving you a fair shot. You're good." Joe smiled. "Thanks, Ed. I guess I understand why you didn't trust me." Ed shrugged. "That's over now, in the past. Hey � you play poker?" Joe cautiously eyed Ed's eager face. "Sometimes." Ed grinned. "I ain't gonna ask for a loan, but I wouldn't mind the chance to win some of it off you in a fair game!" Joe laughed. "You a gambling man, huh?" Ed shrugged again. "Sometimes. When we get a weekday off, I like to go down to AC, hit the tables a bit. Got a couple of buddies that have a weekly game here." "You know that's illegal �" "Yeah, well, when you see the kind of illegal we do every day, a friendly game doesn't seem so bad in comparison." Ed watched him closely, checking his reaction. Joe realized this was a really fragile moment in the forging of this new partnership. He'd seen 'friendly games' turn not friendly, but now was not the time to bring that up. "Well, as long as nobody gets hurt, I guess you have a point." He kept the smile on his face. It was enough; Ed accepted that Joe didn't like it, but wasn't going to make an issue about it. "OK, man, I hear you. Guess we'd better get back to the case." They returned their attention to the pile of cases Silvera had sent over. None of them seemed the sort of thing to invite violent retribution. Joe was flipping through Mike's notebook when something struck him. "Hey, Ed. Wasn't there something in one of the cases a while back about somebody named Joey?" Ed bit his lip; it sounded familiar. He dug through the cases they'd already been through. About a month back they had caught an assault case. "Here it is. Joey was a young male prostitute who'd been beaten and left for dead. Looks like they thought it was his pimp, but he wouldn't press charges, probably because the pimp threatened him. Why?" "When was that?" "About a month back." Joe nodded. "Here's a notation in Mike's notebook just a few days before he died. Joey, and a phone number." Ed looked up, interested. "So maybe the kid called and Mike was trying to help him unofficially?" Joe shrugged. "Let's see if Silvera knows anything about it. You'd better call; I don�t think she likes me much." Frankie was out of the office that day, working with a PBA grief counselor, so the idea took back burner status for the moment. Their prime suspect was Thomas Miller, so they cross-checked Miller's LUD's with the numbers in Mike's black book. There were two matches. One of them, David Sanborne, agreed to meet them for lunch. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Munch and Fin entered the offices of Miller Ventures. "We need to speak with Mr. Miller," Munch intoned, knowing that the secretary behind the front desk would try to stop them. She smiled pleasantly without even checking a calendar. "I'm sorry, Mr. Miller is with a client right now." Fin shook his head. "You didn't even check the calendar. Besides, I think he'll speak with us." They flashed their badges. The girl's face turned white, and she reached for the phone. "Mr. Miller? There are a couple of policemen out here who would like to talk to you." She listened for a moment then hung up. 'He'll be right with you." A few minutes later an immaculately dressed gentleman appeared. Munch put his age at a very well preserved 60. Tall, elegant, attractive. He approached them. "Gentlemen? I'm Thomas Miller. How may I help you?" Fin spoke up. "I'm Det. Tutuola, and this is Det. Munch. I think it might be better if we discussed this privately." He gestured back toward the office Miller had come from. Miller looked at the secretary. "Hold my calls, Moira." As she nodded, he ushered them into a huge office with a view of the harbor. On a clear day you'd be able to see the Statue of Liberty. But then, when were the skies in New York all that clear? Today as usual a heavy haze obscured the view. Fin offered the photo of Logan. "You know this man?" Miller hid it well. "No." Munch glared. "Want to try that again? We have his phone records; you traded quite a few phone calls over the past couple of weeks." Miller's composure flickered. "Yes, I knew him." Fin recognized the reaction; this man kept his sex life entirely separate from this professional world. He wouldn't appreciate this being brought up here. Tough. "Bartender at the Leather Rose said he saw you leaving together about a week ago." As expected, Miller's face blanched. "Gentlemen, could you keep your voices down? I'd really rather Moira not hear any of this �" Munch grinned, knowing they had something to hold over him if need be. He didn't want his 'dirty little secret' aired in public. "So why don't you do the talking Mr. Miller? We could go down to our precinct if you prefer?" Miller shuddered at that idea. "No, no, here is fine." He sat down behind the huge mahogany desk, waving them to chairs on the opposite side. "I met Mike about a week and a half ago at the Rose. We hit it off and went back to my place. He � really enjoyed it. We've gotten together a couple of times since then. Is he �.?" Mike hadn't been looking so good in that photo. Fin nodded. "He's dead. Found him yesterday morning in Central Park, not far from that ritzy condo of yours �" Miller looked distressed. "Oh, shit! We � we were together Monday night. But he had to leave. Got a call on his cell phone about midnight. He seemed kind of frantic; I think whoever was on the other end was in trouble." Munch frowned. "Forgive my bluntness, Mr. Miller, but from what we hear, the games you played weren't conducive to being able to answer his phone?" Miller actually blushed. "Det. Munch, I don't know what you've heard, but �" Munch raised an eyebrow. "His body pretty much tells the story. Bite marks, whip marks, bruises from restraints on his wrists and ankles �" Miller really didn't like having this 'public knowledge.' Uneasily, he continued, "Well, yes, usually. But Monday night Mike was really wound up. Said he might have to leave, something might be coming down, so we skipped the heavy stuff �" Fin glared at him. "Did you know he was a cop?" Miller's eyebrows shot up. "No! No idea� dear lord!" Munch jumped back in. "So you say he left around midnight? Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts the rest of the night?" "I just went to bed, Detective. Alone. Now, if there's nothing else, I do have appointments this afternoon to prepare for." The detectives shared a 'yeah, right' look. But there was nothing more they could do right now. Fin stood up. "All right, Mr. Miller. We'll be in touch." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Across town, Ed and Joe made their way into the busy corner deli. As they stood in line, a young man, early 30's, kept glancing at them hesitantly. Joe smiled and nodded, and when they got their sandwiches and settled down at a table in back, the young man joined them. The busy lunch rush hum easily covered their conversation. Ed smiled reassuringly. "David Sanborne?" The kid nodded. Joe jumped in. "David, thanks for meeting with us. I understand you know Thomas Miller?" David nodded nervously. "Yeah, I know him. Why the interest?" Ed showed him the photo of Logan. "I think you knew him as well?" David paled at the sight of Logan's lifeless body. "Oh, no! Yeah, we went out a couple of times � he's dead, isn't he?" Ed nodded and put the photo away. "The way we hear it, Miller was the last person he was with. Anything you can tell us would be helpful." Sanborne bit his lip, obviously debating what to say. Finally, he looked up at them. "Miller is a real creep. Obvioulsy has boatloads of money, you should see his place. He's got a full dungeon set up in there. He gets off on hurting his 'boys.' He likes to dominate younger men, guys my age, make them realize how insignificant they are compared to him. I mean, there's games and then there's GAMES, you know? He really tries to mess with your head. And once he's got you, he doesn't want to let go. He tries to make you dependent on him, buys you expensive gifts, to keep you coming back for more of his torture. I warned Mike to stay away from him, figured he was too old for Miller anyhow. But the more I warned, the more Mike wanted it. I think he wanted a really tough 'Daddy' to take care of him. The detectives shared a glance. Logan had been bouncing from one one-night-stand to another all his life. Why would he want to be 'owned' now? Ed thought about Lennie's comment that the only relationships he'd known were abusive. Had he finally sought out such an abusive relationship on purpose? They finished their sandwiches, and left David with their cards, asking him to call if he remembered anything else of interest. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Back at SVU HQ, Munch & Fin briefed Cragen and ADA Casey Novak on the case. Cragen looked at the ADA. "Casey, do we have enough to get a search warrant? This was the last place Mike was known to be, and his gun and badge are missing." Novak hesitated; she'd like to have more. But it should be enough to get a warrant to search for the weapon. Forensics on the bullet found at the crime scene were inconclusive as to whether it had been fired from Logan's .38 or another similar gun. "I'll talk to the judge and meet you over there." Two hours later, they met Green and Fontana and a CSU team back at the Center Park highrise. The doorman watched with horror as the police team invaded his territory. The door was locked, and not surprisingly, nobody answered. A few minutes later, Miller came out of the elevator, storm clouds hovering around his eyes. "What the hell is the meaning of this? I got a call at work �" He spotted Munch and Fin. "You two. Is that what this is about? Logan?" Munch nodded and handed him the search warrant. "You were the last known person to see him alive, Mr. Miller. We've got a warrant to search your apartment for Logan's missing gun and badge. Now if you'll kindly unlock the door so we don't have to break the lock?" Miller glared at him, but fished in his pocket for the keys. The cops pushed past him into the luxury apartment. It was a penthouse occupying the entire floor. They spent the better part of an hour searching, but found nothing out of the ordinary. Joe pulled Munch and Fin aside. "We talked to one of Mike's 'friends' who's number also turned up on Miller's LUD's. He said the guy had a whole 'dungeon' set up here. I can't believe he could have hidden that so quick even if he came right home after he talked to you guys. It's gotta be around here somewhere; maybe a hidden door or something?" Munch grinned. "Ah! A fellow conspiracy theorist! Now why didn't I think of that � a secret door!" Fin just glared at Joe. "Don't encourage him. Please �" Joe had to laugh at the long-suffering look on Tutuola's face. "Sorry. But it really does have to be here somewhere." The four detectives made a closer search of the bedroom, and it was Munch who finally found the hidden trigger inside a closet. "Here we go. One hidden dungeon. Damn!" The closet opened into a large room that was an S&M enthusiast's dream. To Joe, it seemed more a nightmare. Implements of torture covered the walls. A conglomeration of leather straps hung from the ceiling, apparently a 'swing' to support the bottom in mid-air. Something that looked like a gymnast's pommel horse stood off to one side. A four-poster bed occupied the other side of the room with straps permanently attached to the posts. The CSU team followed them in, and began going over the place with a fine-toothed comb. Miller finally brought up the rear, looking absolutely mortified that his sanctuary had been violated. "I really must protest!" He exclaimed as his equipment was manhandled. The fixed surfaces were luminoled to check for blood, and most of the hand-held equipment was packaged up. "Logan's body was covered with the evidence that his killer abused him before he shot him, Mr. Miller." "I told you, I admit he was here, we had sex, but I didn't kill him!" One of the techs called out, "Detectives, I've got something!" The four all converged on the dresser the tech was searching. He was holding a .38 caliber revolver. "It was taped to the underside of the top." Ed shook his head. "Same caliber as Logan's." Miller blanched. "That � that's MY gun detective! I have a permit for it �" Joe glared at him. "And just what do you need a gun for here in your 'play house?'" "I don't! It's just � this is the safest room in the place, that's why I store it here!" Fontana gave him a "yeah, and I've got some cheap property in Brooklyn for sale" look. "Mr. Miller, I think we'd better head down to the precinct to continue this conversation." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lennie had been quite surprised by the phone call from the NYPD's Human Resources office. It seemed that since he didn't have any family of his own, Logan had listed Lennie as the beneficiary for his insurance and retirement plans. // Why the hell would he do that? // Lennie wondered as he schlepped through the parking lot at One Police Plaza. They needed him to fill out some paperwork. He figured since there was nobody else officially listed, he'd have to take care of the funeral, too. With a sigh, he pushed open the door and steeled himself to get through the process. Two hours later, he made his way to the Office of the Medical Examiner. As Logan's officially listed 'next of kin,' he would have to claim the body. He wasn't looking forward to this, but some part of him needed to see the body, to know for sure that Mike was gone. He actually managed to catch Rogers in between 'patients.' When he tapped at the door of her office, she looked up and her face lit up with pleasure. But it faded quickly as she realized why he must be here � for Logan. She got up and took his hands. "Lennie. It's good to see you." Lennie managed a sad smile. "Good to see you too, Doc. Just wish it was better circumstances �" She squeezed his hands and nodded. "God, Lennie, I'm so sorry." She could see his composure wavering. "Me too, Doc. Mike was a good cop, and a good friend." Rogers just nodded. "You here for the family?" Sadly, Lennie shook his head. "No family to speak of. He named me his 'next of kin.' So I guess I get to claim the body." "You made any arrangements yet?" Again, Lennie shook his head. "I'll let you know as soon as I do. But for now � can I see the body?" "Do you really want to do that, Lennie?" Her face told him it was bad. "I have to, Doc. Won't be real until I see it. Him. You know?" Rogers knew. Many of the parents/children/friends of the deceased insisted, no matter how bad it was. "Give me a minute, then �" Lennie nodded and sat down while she went to get Logan's body out of cold storage. Where he'd stay until Lennie made arrangements with a Funeral Home. He knew Mike didn't have much use for the Church these days, but anything but a Catholic Mass seemed improper. So he'd have to track down a Priest. Which he really wasn't sure Mike would want, but � His thoughts were still running in circles when Rogers opened the door and beckoned him out. He followed her into a viewing area, and she removed the sheet over Logan's body. Seeing him laid out like that hit Lennie like a punch in the gut. But somehow, he managed to hold it together. Until Rogers came up beside him, tears in her own eyes. Lennie felt Rogers' arm slip around his back. Touched, he let his arm drop around her. Then his tears spilled over, and they stood together, silently bidding farewell to a dear friend. Continue on to Chapter 5 Send me some Feedback Back to the Story Index Disclaimer: These characters belong to Dick Wolf and NBC. I'm just borrowing them for fun, not profit. |
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