Author: VTerrice

Bad Men

Prologue

Bronx Storage & Supplies Inc.
Summit Av.
Saturday, April 21st
 

Eric William Stanberry was a good kid. Usually. He would on occasion disobey his mother, but never to spite her. His was only ten, so that wouldn't start for another two to three years. Until then, he was usually a good kid. 

This moment, however, his mother would not put in the 'usually' category. In fact if his mother had know what he and his friends, Teddy and Jamal, were up to at this very moment, and she survived the inevitable heart attack that followed such a discovery, she would have locked him up in his room for a very, very, very long time and forbid him to see Teddy and Jamal ever again.

The three of them were embarking on a mission innocent enough to young children who had seen too many Disney films and had not enough sense to pay attention to the lives outside their third floor Bronx views. 

They were going to see the Bad Man, so called because the only shirt he ever wore was emblazoned with the words "Bad Man" in maroon. They didn't have an appointment or anything. It was a dare from a couple of bullies from school. The had to go to where the Bad Man lived and steal something. Teddy and Jamal hoped he slept in something other than his tee-shirt. They were dreaming of becoming school legends.

Eric just hoped he was dreaming. 

The three of the rounded the corner and saw the school to their right. They all looked to the left, at an alley where the Bad Man supposedly lived.

Eric's stomach hurt. "Hey, guys, come on." he was whispering, though just why he didn't know. "Let's just go back. Please."

Teddy looked at him, his brown eyes boring into Eric's. "Don't be such a friggin' pussy, Eric. What do you think David and Gator will do to us if we don't bring something back?"

"I told you, we'll fake it."

"With what? One of your mother's Ginsu knives? You gonna tell them he started chasing us with it and we tripped him and he dropped it and we took it and ran?"

Actually, Eric had been thinking of something less dramatic.

Jamal looked at them. "Let's do this. Come on." 

They crossed the deserted street and walked into the alley. There weren't any people milling around or bonfires in barrels like he'd seen in the movies. It was just dark. Somehow that was creepier. Scarier. 

"Okay guys," Teddy said in a harsh whisper, giving Eric a start. "Equipment."

Jamal got his penlight and Eric got his pepper-spray, while Teddy twirled the baseball bat in his hand. Eric thought he did it to look tough and bad, but to Eric, Teddy looked just as scared as he was. Maybe Teddy and Jamal were.

Teddy looked at him and Jamal. "Remember, the tee-shirt is the main objective here, got me soldiers?"

Jamal nodded, but Eric couldn't see the logic. "What are the odds Bad Man sleeps in jama's, Teddy? He's homeless. He ain't got nothing. And he sure won't be sleeping butt nude in this weather."

"Hey, man, get off my back. I said main objective. We're going for anything that can prove we were here."

"We should have taken your dad's video camera." Eric said slipping the safety off the spray.

"Right, man. Sure. My dad would have killed me."

"Yeah, well, Ban Man's gonna kill all of us, here."

Jamal turned to them both, shining the pen light on them. "Shut the damn hell up. Both of you. You wanna talk being pussy, Teddy, you should have brought your dad's stupid camera."

Teddy looked chastised. "Whatever, man."

Jamal ignored him. "Anyway, we're here." He pointed to the warehouse. "So, now what?" 

Teddy looked unsure. "We go in," he said, his voice wavering, exposing the fear inside.

Jamal opened the unlocked warehouse door. It creaked loudly and the three kids jumped back.

"Shit!" whispered Teddy. Eric thought about asking him where, but now was definitely not the time.

"Jamal." Teddy was looking left and right, his eyes wary for the first sign of movement. "Just open it a little further, and we can squeeze in."

Jamal nodded and slowly opened another six inches. Eric breathed a sigh of relief when the door moved without a sound.

Jamal got out two jump-ropes tied into one long length and the three of them silently tied it around their waists. Teddy then nodded and went it. They had agreed earlier that day that it would be him to avoid a loud argument at the warehouse.

Jamal followed and Eric brought up the rear with his finger on the trigger of the pepper gas. Jamal's penlight, used instead of a flashlight because they thought a flashlight would be too easily seen, did nothing to brighten the area. He shrugged and turned it off, putting it in his pocket. Their eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the night, and they could see around in the warehouse pretty well.

Eric looked around, then summoned the courage to speak. "I don't see him. Or the shirt."

Jamal shook his head, and Teddy, still looking ahead with his baseball bat said, "Maybe he's not here."

That's when Eric suddenly went cold. He heard someone breathing behind him. He spun around, throwing his friends off balance, and faced the man that was right behind him. Before he could scream he saw the man's hand raise in a fist towards his face. Eric's head started briefly to hurt, and he fell to the floor. For a moment, he heard Jamal and Teddy yelling his name and felt a tug and release as the jump-rope snapped. Then his world went dark.

Detective John Munch's head hurt. It wasn't just a headache. This wasn't that simple. This was a throbbing nail being perpetually beaten by a relentless hammer. A throbbing hammer in the hands of a sadist. And what more, Fin would not shut up. He rubbed his temples. What a wonderful time for the less verbal partner to get talkative.

"Would you give your trap a rest? Doesn't your kind need air on occasion?"

Odafin Tutuola smirked at his partner. "Rough night, Old Man?"

He decided to ignore the comment.

"I don't think so, Elliot. And I'm pretty sure Kathie would agree with me on this one."

Munch rounded the corner and walked into Special Victims headquarters of the NYPD, his partner, Fin, tailing behind. Olivia Benson and her partner Elliot Stabler were getting coffee. 

"What would Kathie agree with you about?" Munch asked.

Olivia turned, surprised to see him. "You're late. Elliot wants to grow a beard."

"Thinking of. I told you it was just a thought. One of those, random I wonder if's."

Munch looked at Elliot and winced. "Please, spare us. You'd look like a serial killer." He sat at his desk, rummaging through the latest phone messages.

Elliot gave him a not-so-amused look. "You would know."

Fin stepped in front of Stabler to get a cup of coffee. "I think Olivia's right. Especially about Kathie. Wife's don't usually like beards, right, John?"

Before Munch could answer, Stabler smiled, eyes slit. "Yeah, John. Which of your three wonderful wife's left you because of a beard?"

Munch smiled. "I never had one. But touché."

Elliot smiled back. "A beard? Or a wonderful wife?"

"You know me. Neither."

"I see all my detectives are finally here. What took you two so long?"

Munch swiveled in his chair to face his captain. Cregan, judging from the newest set of bags under the man's eyes, he had had another rough night. He thought about how it must have been an awful lot like his own, Cregan's minus the company of Jack, Scotch, or any other wondrous thought drowner.

He smiled, hoping to offset the mood. "Nice to see you, too."

Fin, walked to his desk, glancing at Munch, then at Cregan. "Somebody doesn't know how to get his oil checked. I get halfway to the station and he calls me on my cell, practically beggin' for a ride."

"Okay, for one, it was groveling. Please distinguish correctly next time. And after riding with you, not checking my oil won't be a mistake I'll make again. I thought your country driving was bad."

Cregan interrupted their banter. "Let's skip Driver's Ed this morning, shall we? I got some... interesting news. Now, I don't know exactly how you all are gonna take this, so there's no way to coat it."

Benson frowned up at him from her seat. "What's up?" 

"We've got a new addition to the SVU."

Benson and Stabler smiled. Fin looked at Cregan. "It's about damn ti-"

Once again, Cregan interrupted. "She's from psych."

Munch shook his head slowly and put his forefingers to his temples, the smell of old coffee suddenly getting to him. 

Benson was the first to speak. "You're kidding, right?" 

Cregan only looked at her. 

Stabler started in. "With what they did to Jeffries they're just gonna send another one in here?"

Cregan nodded. "Sort of. This one's on our side though."

Munch laughed at this. Like the shrink had no ulterior motives. "Right. What's the pretense?"

Cregan turned to Munch, sitting on Elliot's desk. "The pretense is we've been asking for more help, and now we get it."

Benson gawked. "But Captain-"

"She's been sent here by the Commission to evaluate the possibility that a psychologist could help us catch rapists and other sex offenders on a regular basis. We've had psychological help before. They think getting into their minds might-"

This time Stabler interrupted. "What exactly do they think we're doing here? Following interstate signs? How do they think we find these bastards half the time?"

Cregan nodded. "I know. It seems absurd, but she might be of some use. And if not, they take her back."

Munch looked at Olivia. "30-day trial. Shrink doesn't put out, send her back. No refunds." Olivia gave him her 'somewhat-amused-but-still-pissed-off' half smile.

Cregan continued. "She's here on a short loan from the Commission."

Fin frowned. "Just how short are we talkin' here?"

Cregan looked down at the floor then up at the ceiling. "Six months to a year. Maybe more, but not less."

The room exploded in protests, Munch's the loudest of all. "Oh, come on. You know what this is about. You know IA's gonna use her." That quieted the room. All eyes and ears on him, Munch continued. "The instant we do something that Internal Affairs or the Commission doesn't like, she's gonna be reeled on a fishing line to give them her opinion on our performances. Not to mention her opinion of whether or not we're mentally capable of doing our jobs. It's gonna be Monique all over again"

Cregan was silent for a moment. "She's going to be a part of the team, whether you all fight it or welcome it. I suggest you focus on the help she could bring, not to mention the experience."

Munch noticed the lack of address to his concern. Frowning, he wondered if Cregan thought the same.

Benson's phone rang. She picked it up. "SVU, Detective Benson."

Stabler stepped away from her desk and stepped closer to the group. "What experience?"

"I'm glad you asked. She joined the Academy, and graduated at 19, then studied psychology for two years. She's still taking classes via mail, but she worked Narcotics for two years, and Homicide for two. She's been a tremendous help in those departments, the Commission thought it only appropriate to send her here."

Fin stood up at his desk. "She worked Narc? What's her name?"

"Ellandra Seymour."

"Never heard of her."

"Different districts. If you're interested, her file's open to anyone looking." He looked at Munch. "By her request."

Munch smiled. "How appropriate."

Olivia hung up and grabbed her coat. "We got something."

New York Medical Center
E 30th St and First Ave
Saturday, April 21st 
 

"Three."

Elliot punched the floor number and stood back as the elevator doors closed. He turned to Olivia. "So that's it? Three ten year old boys were constrained in the back of a moving van, and at roughly ten-twenty AM, they kicked the doors open and one fell out."

"Theodore North."

Elliot nodded. "Right. Then the van took off and another fell out when it turned."

"Right. Serious injuries."

"And there's a third missing, all from the Bronx?"

"Jamie said that the boys were having a sleep over-"

The elevator slowed. Olivia paused as she and Elliot exited the elevator's open doors. She walked for a couple of feet then stopped, continuing where she had left off. 

"-and went missing earlier this morning when the mother of one of them went to get them for breakfast."

Elliot shook his head. "Then Theodore falls out of a van. And we get them because he told his father what exactly?"

She shrugged. "The father told Jamie the boy had been molested by two men in skimasks. That's all she said on the phone. That and one man was white and fat, the other was black."

"And where is Sargent Carlson?" 

Olivia smiled, amused. "Sargent Carlson, huh? How long have you known her?" 

Elliot looked at her, nonplused. "Anyone who tells my wife she'd be better off alone is no good buddy of mine, Olivia."

"She said that any spouse would be better off alone than to have a wife or husband in the SVU. She was referring to me and Munch as well. And Fin, and probably Cregan, too."

Elliot started walking in the direction on the children's ward, tired of waiting. "But she was talking to my wife."

"It was an off-hand comment, Elliot."

"What does she know?"

As they rounded the corner, Sargent Jamie Carlson, a couple of yards away, turned at the sound of Elliot's voice. She nodded her hello. "Detectives." Her face, looking considerably older than her thirty-five years, showed no knowledge of the contents of their conversation.

Walking to where she was standing, Olivia smiled. "So, inform us."

"The three boys were missing from the house at around seven-thirty this morning. Parents weren't too worried until ten when they called the police. Because it looked as if the kids left of their own volition, the standard forty-eight hours were gonna have to pass."

"So they were kidnapped from the house?" Olivia asked.

Jamie shook her head. "The parents don't think so. No sign of struggle, and they hadn't heard anything from the room since the mother checked on them."

Elliot come up next to Olivia. "When was this?"

"Around midnight." She started walking, motioning for them to follow. "Thanks for coming so quickly. The parents will appreciate it. Traffic near the hospital's been hell this morning. I told you pretty much everything when you were on the way here. The boy, Theodore North, wouldn't talk much to me, but he told his father that two men kidnapped and molested him and his two friends."

Olivia frowned. "Did his father ask the boy where he was kidnapped from?"

Jamie nodded. "Sort of. His father asked him why he and his friends weren't at home sleeping and he started to cry and wouldn't say anything. My guess is he's afraid of his father's reaction to his answer."

Elliot looked down at the multicolored footprints on the floor. "You told us on the phone that Theodore has a broken ankle and knee from where he fell from the van. What's the other boy's status?"

They reached the door. "Eric Stanberry's in surgery. A broken rib punctured one of his lungs. He's got various other broken bones, but the doctor's optimistic. His condition's stable and parents are outside of surgery waiting."

Olivia looked in the room's window to see Theodore's mother holding his hand. "And the third boy? Still not found."

"No, but Theodore said he was in the van with him and Eric."

"So the kidnappers could still have him."

Jamie looked up at Elliot, meeting his eyes for the first time. "I hope not, but it's the best guess."

Olivia thanked Jamie and she left. She and Elliot looked in the window. "Well?"

"You think the driver's gonna panic and ditch the kid?"

Olivia nodded. "Makes sense."

Elliot looked at her. "He'd have to if he had half a brain."

"So I guess the million dollar question here is-"

"Dead or alive?"

The looked at each other for a moment. "You ready."

She took a deep breath and let it out. "Why not?"

Elliot knocked, then held the door open for Olivia, who smiled at the small, frail looking black boy in the bed. Looking at his parents, she held up her badge and Elliot followed suit. "Mr. and Mrs. North? I'm Detective Benson, and this is Detective Stabler."

The mother looked back and forth between the two. "From the... SVU?"

Olivia nodded. The father got up. "Gerald. My wife Debbie. You need to question our boy?"

Elliot nodded. "I'm afraid so."

Olivia remembered what Jamie had said about the boy being too frightened to talk in front of his father. She took Gerald North aside. "May we speak to your son alone, Mr. North. It might make it easier for him to talk to us. Not have to worry about getting in trouble." She gave him a brief, compassionate smile. "That sort of thing."

Gerald stiffened up for a moment, then looked at his son. There was a pain in his dark eyes that only the unlucky parent of an unfortunate child could know.

Elliot came to her side. "It might make it easier to catch the men who did this. Quicker. If he were able to talk more freely-" he trailed off, realizing there was no need to finish.

Gerald nodded so slowly that Olivia wasn't sure he was agreeing at first. Then he turned and exited the room. 

Olivia sighed, part relieved, part empathetic for the man. She turned back to the wife. "Mrs. North-"

She nodded. "I know." She bent down and kissed her son on the forehead. "They're here to help." The boy nodded. "Your father and I will be back soon."

As she passed Olivia and Elliot she whispered, "We all call him Teddy." 

Olivia nodded as the woman left, then turned to her son. "Hi, Teddy. We need to-"

"How are Eric and Jamal?"

Olivia quickly looked at her partner then back. "Your parents didn't tell you?"

Teddy held his chin up high. "They don't think I can handle it. But I saw Eric fall out of the van." His lower lip trembled a little as he looked down at his scraped hands. "There ain't nothing worse than that." 

Olivia looked down at her feet, the thought of what this boy had been through in just the last twelve hours hitting her. She looked back up at him. "Eric's in surgery."

Teddy's head came up quickly. "He's still alive?"

"And hanging in there. He's not that bad off, kiddo."

"And Jamal?"

Elliot smiled. "We need to talk to you about what happened."

He nodded and looked down. "You wanna know what those guys did to us."

"Well," Elliot started carefully. "How about starting with where they kidnapped you from." He saw the guarded look in the Teddy's eyes and responded carefully, treading the thin ice that was the little boy's trust. "It might give us a clue that could help put them away so they can't hurt other little boys. And to punish them for what they've done to you." 

He sighed and laid back in the bed. "It's all my fault. They didn't want to go. They wanted to fake it. They wanted to pretend. But I thought it would be cool. And I knew that if we did it right, we could be legends at our school."

Olivia took a deep breath, waiting for him to explain on his own.

"Me and my friends were going to steal something from the Bad Man's place to prove we weren't chickens."

Olivia bent down to pick up an old stuffed animal that had fallen to the floor. "The Bad Man's place? Who's the bad man, Teddy?" She handed him the dog, and he gave her a small but grateful smile.

"He's this homeless guy that lives in an old factory or something near our school. We call him the Bad Man because he wears this shirt that says 'Bad Man' on it. We were gonna try to get his shirt." He looked up at them quickly. "As long as he wasn't wearin' it."

Elliot tugged on Teddy's dog. "Wasn't that dangerous?"

Teddy nodded. "That was the point."

"What happened then?"

Teddy breathed heavily. "We were inside the factory and we had tied this rope around our waist, you know, to keep us together-"

Elliot looked at Olivia.

"-and Eric says how he don't see nobody. And I said that maybe the guy wasn't there, and then Eric-" he paused.

"Yeah, sweetie?" Olivia prompted softly.

"-Eric falls. Me and Jamal, we turn around to see what he's doing, and there's this big guy standin' there. He takes a-a knife and cuts the rope. There's another guy, comes behind him, and he picks up Eric and takes him away. I walked up and tried to him with...with m-m-my bat, but he just pulled it from me." 

Teddy's tears were rolling freely down his cheeks, and he started to breathe heavily. "It's okay." Olivia patted his shoulder. "You can tell us the rest later. We'll even get someone special that you can talk to. When you're up to it. But for right now did you hear or see anything that might help us find them? You told Sargent Carlson that they were wearing masks. Anything else? Accents?" He shook his head.

"No? Shirts with logos? Any hair at all?"

He shook his head again.

Elliot chimed in. "Bad teeth?"

Teddy thought for a moment, then said "His breath smelled."

Elliot smiled and kept going. "Eye color? Tattoos?"

The boy started to shake his head again, then stopped, remembering something. "Yeah. Jamal said he saw something on the white guy's arm."

Elliot held out his arms. "Which arm? And where?"

Teddy shook his head. "I don't know which arm, but if Jamal saw it, then it would have to've been around here."

He traced his finger above one of Elliot's wrist.

"The white guy was wearing gloves and a sweatshirt, so that's the only place that he could have seen it. He said it was a really gross purple."

"Okay." Olivia smiled. "That's good. That'll help. Now do you remember anything about the van that-"

"40 E."

Olivia raised her eyebrows. "What?"

"It was part of the number."

Elliot got out his pad and wrote it down. "You mean his license plate?"

"Yeah."

Olivia smiled at him. "Do you remember where on the plate?"

"Yeah, it was the first three. And the van was old and black and really beat up bad like it had been in an accident."

"Did you know where they were taking you? Did you overhear anything between the two of them? Or did they say they were taking you anywhere?"

He looked down at his hands again, and his lip started to tremble. 

"What is it?" she asked.

"They never said a word to any of us. Not one word. But I remember that before they put us in the back of the van, the white guy, he slapped the other guy in the head and yelled at him. He asked if he was drugged up. When he didn't get an answer he slapped the guy again. Said he was all..." he paused. "All F'ed up again. You know?"

They nodded.

"Well, the other guy, the black guy , he just laughed and said he knew where he was going. So the white guy slammed him up against the van again and asked him where. He yelled it, but I don't remember. Me and Eric and Jamal... We was pretending to be asleep. But I don't remember." The kid's face fell again.

Elliot looked at him. "Hey, it's okay, buddy. Don't beat yourself up about it. You've given us a lot to go on here."

Teddy looked up at Elliot. "But you need that street name."

"All that we ask is that you try to remember. Can you do that for us?"

Teddy smiled a little, and nodded.

"Okay. Thanks, Teddy. You did great."

Olivia reached into her pocket and got out her card handing it to the boy. "If you remember anything, the street name, or anything, call." She pulled out her cell phone. "I've always got it with me."

* * * * *

Munch took his cell phone out of his pocket and answered it, throwing away an empty paper cup. "Munch."

Finn stepped away from Arnold Palmer and his wreckage of a vehicle, walking back to his partner. "Man said he followed the guy for a good five minutes until he ran into that damn garbage truck."

Munch nodded to Finn then covered the phone's mouthpiece. "Give me the plate number."

Finn dug in his pocket for his notepad, then gave it to Munch.

Munch uncovered the mouthpiece. "Yeah, well, we can do you one better, Olivia. Or four. We got two eyewitnesses that give us identical plate numbers. Yeah, they start with 40E. We've also got a Professor Palmer here that places a third kid in the back. Said he was holding on for dear life waiting for the right time to jump."

Munch shook his head. "No, he followed the van for a few minutes, then slammed into a garbage truck coming out of nowhere. Yeah, sure. Thanks."

Munch hung up and put his phone back in his coat pocket. He and Finn walked back to the car. "The kid gave them half the plate number, a tattoo on the white guy's hand, and he's trying to remember the street name where they were headed."

Finn nodded. "Pretty good for a ten year old."

"Yeah. Damn good if he can remember. Right now all we've got to go on is that van." 

"You think it's stolen."

Munch nodded as they arrived at Finn's car. "She and Stabler are heading for the warehouse where the kids were picked up." Munch looked at his partner. "I'm driving."

Finn smiled. "I don't think so, Old Man."

Bronx Storage & Supplies Inc.
Summit Av.
Saturday, April 21st

Olivia got out of the car and closed the door, unsnapping her holster. She looked to her right and saw the elementary school; to her left the storage warehouse. 

She heard the back door open and close. "'Das it." 

She looked at Aleisha Duncan, their teenage map of Bronx suburbia.

"'Das where he lives. Don't know why them stupid-ass little kids bother him so much, ya know? I mean, sure, he's just some homeless guy, but he looks nasty to me. Like he's got rabies or some'em. He's usually out right now, but I ain't seen him since..." she thought about it for a moment. "Since, like Thursday. I always gotta come here an' pick up my little bro, and that man's always there. Just standin', ya know? He's creepy."

Elliot looked at her. "You need a ride back to the park?"

Aleisha looked at him, her eyebrows raised in a comical expression. "Yeah, right. It's less than a mile. Besides, in this neighborhood, ya try an' stay out of cops cars, ya know?" 

Elliot smiled as Aleisha took off.

Olivia looked at her partner and pointed to the school. "Teddy wasn't kidding when he said it was near the school. The playground and road are the only things separating them."

Elliot nodded, and crossed the road, Olivia following behind. As they reached the warehouse's open doors, they grabbed hold of their guns, not pulling them out of their holsters but clicking off the safeties. Olivia doubted they were necessary, but... Doubting was what could cost a life.

They entered, poised and ready for someone to come out of the shadows. The dimly lit environment of the warehouse smelled of burnt newspapers and gasoline. She breath in the stale air, tense and alert. 

"Liv." Elliot's clipped whisper caught her attention and he raised his gun. She followed his eyes to a baseball bat. The same baseball bat Teddy had tried to defend himself and his friends with. 

She pulled her gun out of it's sheath. "No doubt now."

"Police!" he called out. "Anybody here?"

Olivia looked around the empty storage house, then motioned to a door that was labeled 'JANITOR'. Elliot nodded and they approached quickly but with caution. Olivia kicked papers and a canister of pepper spray with her foot, forging a trail of clean floor.

"Hello? We just need to ask you a few questions."

Olivia knocked on the door. "Sir? Anybody?"

Elliot looked at her and without a word drew back in a defensive stance, bringing his gun up aimed at gut level.

She brought her own gun up, then tried the door. To their surprise, it was unlocked. She swung it open and brought both hands on the gun.

"Great." She looked down into the glassy, gray eyes of a dead, homeless man surrounded by blankets. He was wearing a ratty, old tee-shirt with the words Bad Man emblazoned in maroon. 

Elliot holstered his gun. "So much for 'Bad Man'." 

Olivia frowned seeing a glint of metal as her partner moved briefly in and out of the sunlight. She bent over and, clicking the safety back on, nudged one of the covers up six inches with her weapon.

"Needle. And judging by the tracks on his arms, I'd say we can guess the cause of death." She used her gun to nudge the man's right wrist, then left. "No purple tattoo."

"Aleisha said she hasn't seen him since Thursday. Think he's been dead since around that time?"

She nodded. "Boys would have gotten a hell of a shock if he was."

"Better than what they did get."

* * * * *

"A dead junkie? So, we've got no suspects, and no witnesses to the kidnapping. Nobody on a busy and crowded street saw the driver of this van, and no clue as to who this partner is." Cregan eyed his four detectives. "What have we got?"

Fin's phone rang. Everyone looked at it. Fin reached forward and picked it up. "SVU, Detective Tutuola."

Cregan looked back to the other three. "Well?" 

There was a moment of silence, then Munch spoke up. "We got a call around two from the DMV. The plate was registered to a Henry Fri, but the car was a 1990 burgundy Plymouth. The plate was reported stolen three days ago."

Cregan waited, then raised his eyebrows. "That's it?"

"No," Fin said as he hung up. "That isn't it. They found the van."

Cregan nodded. "Impeccable timing."

Fin looked at Olivia and Elliot. "But they also found the third boy."

* * * * *

Beachside View Hotel
8700 NW 57th St.
Saturday, April 21st

"Jamal Warner." 

"Right. The missing kid in your case."

Elliot nodded at Richard Hoss, one of the forensic specialists on the scene. 

"Well, he's not so missing now." 

Elliot followed Richard down the shore and away from the van. He glanced over his shoulder at his partner, speaking with Timothy Rios, also from forensics, about the vehicle.

Richard turned to look at Elliot, then back to the beach in front. "It seems the kid tried to run from the driver of that van. Didn't make it very far, though. If he ran the other way, the same distance, it could have saved his life."

Elliot frowned. "Why's that?"

"Well, there were construction workers inside the hotel. As it is none of them saw anything."

"Construction workers?"

"Yeah. It's temporarily closed, so no guests and therefore the beach was entirely deserted."

Elliot stepped around a pile of garbage. "No witnesses. Damn it." They approached Jamal Warner's body. "How'd he die?"

Richard bent over the boy, pointing to his pulverized skull with a pen. "Massive blows to the head with a tire iron." He looked up at the detective. "I'd say four to eight rapid blows. The kid probably died after the first one to two-"

Elliot interrupted him "Which denotes panic on the part of the assailant."

Richard nodded and stood up. 

"Any prints one the tire iron?"

"We're checking."

Elliot glanced once more at the dead child, feeling the familiar pang of sorrow, then turned and left. This job never grew on you. Never.

He supposed that was a good thing.

He approached Olivia just as she turned towards him. "They found children's prints in the back, but they probably belong to Teddy and his friends."

Elliot looked over the ocean, bright and beautiful but cold for almost five in the afternoon. "You mean hopefully."

She nodded. "I don't want to think these bastards have done this before and gotten away with it."

"But what are the odds?"

Olivia nodded again, this time slower, her eyes on the ocean as well. "I told Tim the plate was stolen three days ago, so he checked and so far he's lifted a whole and two partials. They also found a partial on the car keys. "

"Let's hope they're our guy's."

* * * * *

"Got 'em." Munch hung up the phone and stood, stretching his back. He looked at his notes, reading to his colleagues and captain. "Prints found on the plate and car keys belong to one Tyo McNillian. Twenty-three year old black cab driver, accused but never convicted on two accounts of molestation of two sixteen year old boys." 

Olivia opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, he continued, throwing his notepad back on the table. "That's not it. Apparently the cabby wanted the whole 'hands on experience' of killing. Took his gloves off before beating the Warner boy to death with the tire iron. Left plenty of prints."

Cregan nodded, and looked at Olivia and Elliot. "You know where to go with this one."

Apartment of Tyo McNillian
961 Lyons Rd.
Saturday, April 21st

"Tyo McNillian? Police! Open up!" 

Benson and Stabler had their weapons drawn with Fin and Munch right behind them, ready to roll. 

Munch, however, was positive this guy wasn't going to be home. Not at nine PM on the night he murdered a harmless little ten year old boy from the Bronx.

Elliot repeated himself, rolling his shoulders back to adjust his arms. "Police! Open up, or we're coming in!"

No answer. 

Munch, despite his self-assurance that no one would be home, tensed as Stabler readied himself to kick open the door. It was always within these moments that you could lose your life. Or the life of a dear friend.

He looked at Olivia briefly, then pushed the thought out of his head.

"Don't you dare kick that door in, son. I told you I got the damn keys right here. I-"

Fin looked at the landlord with an expression on his face that would have shut Munch himself up, given the right circumstances and a bad day. "We told you to stay downstairs. GO!"

"Wait!" Olivia looked at the old man. "Toss me the keys." He did. "Now go."

The old man, defeated, walked down the hall and around the corner, but his footfalls ended there.

Olivia unlocked the door, then pocketed the keys, returning to her previous defensive stance. 

Elliot yelled, "That's it! Were coming in!"

Munch took a deep breath. Here we go.

Elliot turned the knob, opening the door a crack, then quickly pushed it all the open with his foot.

He and Olivia dropped their defensive stances almost immediately, and put their guns back in their holsters.

"It's empty."

Fin frowned. "You sure?"

Olivia looked at Fin but said nothing.

Munch watched as she walked in to the vacant studio, followed by Elliot. 

The apartment was about ten feet by ten feet, and almost completely empty, missing even a closet. He and Fin stood in the doorway for lack of space inside.

"Oh." said Fin.

Stepping around the mattress on the floor, the room's sole piece of furniture, she pointed to a pile of laundry in the corner. Elliot's eyes followed hers to a small bag of white power underneath a greasy tee-shirt.

"Cocaine."

She nodded. "Goes along with Teddy's story."

Munch overlooked the apartment, trailing a few old wrappers and food containers. He glanced over the mattress and magazines underneath. He was looking away when a magazine insignia caught his eye. He walked forward to the mattress and bent over, pulling the top corner up.

"Guys." 

Olivia and Stabler looked over at him, Fin hovered behind. 

"Recognize the merchandise?" he asked. He knew Fin wouldn't, but he wasn't addressing his partner. The magazine brand was from an old case that he, Olivia, Elliot, and his old partner, Brian Cassidy, had worked. The insignia had become a mocking sign of defeat, particularly to Stabler, who had once thought he had the bastards caught.

"Damn." Elliot walked over and took over Munch's position. He traced his finger over the wishing well emblem that they had come to hate so much. He stood and, unconsciously wiping his hand on his pants, cursed softly. 

"What is it?" asked Fin, not understanding.

* * * * *

"So, we have yet another link in this 'Wishing Well' pornography scandal?"

Olivia nodded to her captain. "We also found four videos with the same insignia."

Cregan raised his eyebrows. "So they've moved up to filmmaking. Terrific."

"Actually," Munch said. "We think that they've been working the cinema aspect for quite awhile. Koby, the new intern, ID'd one of the boys on the first film from a case three years ago, and another from the second film as a convicted molester. He's twenty-one now, nineteen when convicted, and sixteen in the video."

"Five years? You're telling me that they've been filming for five years?"

Munch shrugged.

Elliot got up to fill his coffee cup a third time. "At least. And that's only materials with the insignia."

Fin watched Elliot warily, no doubt noting the anger in Stabler's voice, as had everyone else. "The man's also a cocaine addict. Heavy time from all the bags and vials found under the bed."

"Any clues as to who McNillian's partner is?"

The detectives looked at one another, and Cregan nodded. "Well," he started. "I suggest-" 

His phone interrupted him. He hesitated for a moment, then turned and walked to his office. "Let's hope this has something to do with your case."

"Impeccable timing." Fin said, gaining a smile from Munch and Olivia. Elliot just walked back to his desk. Olivia watched him, worried. His anger and frustration were more than evident; they were cruising full speed through his own personal highway and in danger of crashing.

Munch cleared his throat, braking the uncomfortable silence that had settled. "I don't think we're just looking for McNillian's partner. I think we're looking for his boss."

Olivia, eyes still on her partner hunched over the old 'Wishing Well' files, took the bate. "Why?"

"Well," he started. "For starters, he's a coke addict."

"So?"

"No real reason. Personal bias against them." That got a small smile. He got serious. "Also, no one in charge would be caught dead driving the kids in daylight."

Fin frowned at his partner. "Why was that? I mean, kidnappers, if they have to move, they do it at night. If they're smart that is."

Munch looked at the papers on his desk. "Maybe there was a time issue with the warehouse he had the boys stashed in. You know, another child molester was renting it from noon to three."

Only Olivia saw the look her partner gave John. 

It's seriously time to give him a vacation. 

But even as the thought perused through her mind, she knew it wouldn't help him. He wanted so badly to catch these 'Wishing Well' pornographers, escaping his investigation, his own grasp, now for more than four years. So many little boys in the magazines, and almost always different faces...

This had become more than personal to Elliot and she knew it. She just hoped it didn't become an outright obsession. 

Cregan came out of his office. "I got a call from homicide near Oakland. McNillian's been hospitalized for an overdoes. And it seems he's killed someone else."

Apartment of Melanie Gee
200 NW 7th Av.
Saturday, April 21st
 

"Melanie Gee. Twenty-eight year old prostitute. Neighbor called 911. Shouldn't you guys be in the hospital talkin' to your suspect?"

"We've already got that covered." Fin pulled his overcoat closer to his body. "It's colder in here than outside."

"Then go back outside."

Munch looked around the cramped apartment filled with forensics and photographers, then down to the body. He glanced at the cop's ID.

"Well, Sargent Gomez," Munch smiled. "Would you mind doing us an itty bitty favor and telling us what happened here?"

Gomez sighed.

"We'll get out of your hair." Fin offered.

Gomez sighed again, as if all the world rested upon just his two shoulders. "This chick-" he pointed to the bloody remains of Melanie Gee. "-runs out of her apartment bangin' on her neighbors' doors. One of 'em opens up, but doesn't let her in. Gee tells her that a guy that killed a little boy is calling a friend on the downstairs pay phone and is gonna come back any minute so she needs to call the police. Her neighbor closes the door in her face, then locks it. Gee runs back to her apartment and, thinking the guy's still outside, bolts the door. Then screams ensue, and the neighbor, the same one that locked Gee out, calls 911 at 10:36 PM. According to the other neighbors, this is more than twenty-five minutes to half an hour after the screams stopped. In that half hour your guy sniffed enough coke to drop out of the race."

Munch frowned. "Now, I thought forensics said it was a small dose."

"It was, but it must have been some powerful small dose."

"Why was McNillian here?"

"Gee told her neighbor something about him coming here to be safe or something."

Fin was writing in his notepad. "The neighbor's name?"

"Nadine Langston. Some old geezer down the hall. 56 B. But our guys are still questioning her, so you'll have to wait."

Munch patted Gomez on the shoulder. "Doubt it. Thanks for all the nifty info, though."

He and Fin walked down the hall to 56 B, and knocked on the open door. Looking in the apartment, he saw two homicide detectives interviewing an old woman, one sitting in front of her, and the other standing.

Fin looked at his notes. "Detectives Carl Harris and Stu Fink of homicide." 

Munch smiled at his partner. "Stu what?" He knocked again, this time more pronounced and much louder.

The detective standing up turned and looked at them for a moment, then walked over to the door. "Who the hell are you?"

Munch held up his badge. "Detectives Munch and Tutuola. SVU. Or haven't you homicide boys learn to read yet?"

The detective looked Munch over. "Look whose talking. You worked homicide. Baltimore, right?"

Munch smiled. "Yes, I did. Very good, Detective. But I got 'Hooked on Phonics', so they let me play with the big boys now." 

"Munch." The detective cocked his head at John, and smiled sweetly. "Directions for what you can do to my ass."

"Hmmm..." Munch looked at him appraisingly. "You must be the bad cop." Fin cleared his throat, and Munch got serious. "Anyway, enough chat. I believe your captain has informed you of whose case takes precedence." He pushed the detective aside. "Excuse me."

Munch walked in, with Fin a couple of steps behind. 

"Carl?" called the detective from the door. "Come on."

Munch moved back to let Carl leave, then turned back to the detective. "That would make you Fink. What a surprise."

"Original." called Fink as he left.

Munch stood in front of the old woman. "Nadine Langston, I presume?" She said nothing. He showed her his badge. "I'm Detective Munch and this is Detective Tutuola. We're from the Special Victims Unit." 

She looked up at him expectantly. "And?"

He pointed to the kitchen chair facing her. "May I?"

She shrugged. "Whatever. Listen, how much longer you guys taken, huh? 'Cause I got Church tomorrow morning."

"Gonna pray for forgiveness?" asked Fin.

Nadine looked up with cold and hostile eyes, challenging Tutuola's. In his eyes she had to have seen the mirror image of her own. "Now, why would I do that, detective?"

"Oh, I don't know. Locking a woman in danger out of a possibly safe place don't seem too Godly to me, though."

"I ain't no prince. No night and shining armor. And she wasn't one of God's true children. She was a whore, detective. A nasty, diseased whore, who brought a child killer into this apartment building. Then she comes to my home telling me I should let her in. That slut would've gotten me killed, as well as herself. So don't go judging me, detective."

Munch gave the woman a moment to calm down, then looked at her. "Can I ask you a few questions? I promise we'll be quick. Out of here in no time." 

"Like I said, 'whatever'."

"Thank you. Did Melanie Gee mention any names when she told you that he was calling a friend?"

Nadine raised her eyebrows. "Yeah, actually. She said he was calling-" she thought for a moment. "Frank. Yeah, Frank, that was it."

"No last names?"

She shook her head.

"You're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. I'm positive. Just 'cause I'm old, it don't mean I'm senile."

Munch nodded. "What happened after the screams? And before you called the police."

She moved around uncomfortable for a moment. "I was just trying to decide whether to call or not. I figured someone else would."

Munch waited until he had made eye contact, then spoke. "Miss Langston-"

"Mrs."

He smiled evenly. "Mrs. Langston. The man who murdered Melanie Gee, also molested three ten year boys, and murdered one of them, all earlier today. Now, whatever you're holding back might be the only lead we've got."

She glanced down at her slippered feet and a look of what might have been shame passed over her face quickly. "I knew he killed a boy. I just... forgot. It's... it's Frank."

Munch looked at his partner, then back to Nadine. Fin spoke up. "Did he come here?"

She nodded, but still refused to look up. "Yes. He did. At least I think it was this Frank guy. He was white, and sorta thin and tall, and had long, nasty hair. It was about fifteen minutes before I called 911. I heard him pull up and saw his headlights. I was sittin' here worrying that this could be this kid killer's friend. Then I heard his footsteps on the stairs and I was worried that they knew I knew about them. I looked through the peephole. He knocked on Melanie's door, and I saw him give that black man something. The white guy said it would calm the black guy down, and that he would go get the car. The black guy closed the door, and Frank took off. Next thing I know he's burning rubber." She shook her head. 

Munch looked at her hopefully. "Could you describe him to a sketch artist?"

"No. It was so dark out in that hallway. Before the cops came, the light out there was busted. I couldn't tell you if he was right in front of me." She shivered.

Fin looked down at her. "Why'd you wait another fifteen minutes to call the police?"

"I just wanted to forget everything. It's safer that way. You just forget. I sat down to watch something on TV, but I kept picturing the guy sneaking up behind me." she shook her head again. "I know it's stupid. Then I thought that someone else had to have already called the police..."

She trailed off, but it didn't matter. "Thank you, Mrs. Langston." 

They left the old woman sitting in her chair, and passed Fink and Harris. Fink and Munch kept eye contact for a moment, then Stu walked back to 56 B.

Munch and Fin went down the stairs passing curious people who lived on the floor below and ignoring their questions.

As they exited the apartment building and the cool night air surrounded them, Fin turned to Munch. "Gonna call Benson and Stabler?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I'll call Cregan. Who knows if McNillian is fried or talking or what."

* * * * *

"He's been screaming since you guys got here, around eleven. Finally stopped about fifteen minutes ago. He's muttering, but at least now he's somewhat coherent."

Olivia frowned as she and Elliot followed the nurse. "A coke OD had him screaming?"

Eileen Chase shook her head. "That can sometimes happen, but this one was poisoned. We don't know by what exactly, but something was mixed into his cocaine. It severely affected him." As she approached the curtain she put her hands up in front of the detectives. "Officially, I have to tell you to go easy on the man. Don't rough him up. No physical proof, huh?"

Olivia nodded. "We'll be careful, Eileen."

The nurse looked at Elliot meaningfully. "Detective Stabler?"

He nodded to her. "No physical proof. Gotcha." 

She nodded back. "Ten minutes, kay? Anymore, my ass is toast."

She pulled the green ER curtain back, revealing Tyo McNillian, then stepped back a few feet, eyeing the detectives.

Tyo was still muttering. "He'll know what to do... He'll know what to do... Everything's gonna be okay. Nothing's gonna happen."

Elliot looked at Olivia, then down at Tyo who was cuffed to the hospital bed. "Who, Tyo? Who's gonna make everything okay?"

Tyo didn't look at Stabler, but answered. "Frank..." he laughed. "Frank'll make everything... better." He laughed, then screamed, pulling on the cuffs hard enough to cut his skin.

Both Elliot and Olivia stepped back a few feet. Olivia had her hand on her firearm, unsnapping the holster. "What the hell?"

The nurse turned. "I'll get the doctor."

"No. Wait." Stabler stopped her. "If you get a doctor, he'll give him more drugs, right?"

The nurse nodded. "We can't have him endangering-"

Olivia interrupted her. "Just give us a minute here. Please." 

"I can't d-"

Elliot looked at her pleadingly. "Please. Just a couple minutes."

The nurse hesitated, then nodded slowly. "All right. But if he does it again..."

Elliot nodded then went back to McNillian.

"Tyo. What's Frank's last name?"

"He'll know. He does. He'll help me."

"What's his last name?"

Tyo just laughed.

Olivia whispered over to Elliot. "What about 'Wishing Well'?"

Elliot nodded. "Tyo. Where'd you get the 'Wishing Well' porn? You know which ones I mean? Under your bed?"

Tyo laughed again. "Under the bed. Hiding so Mama don't see it. Keep it under the bed."

"That's right, Tyo. Under the bed. Where'd you get it?"

"Frank. He knows. But it's not real."

"What's not real?"

"The porn movies." he laughed. "Did you see them?"

Elliot clenched his jaw, but smiled and nodded. 

"They're fakes. Me and Frank. We make them. The one's under the bed, under the bed so Mama don't see them, those are real, but the rest, me and Frank made. We sell them, too. We big hits. Everybody knows us. Everybody."

Elliot looked at his partner, then turned back to Tyo. "Where do you sell them, Tyo?"

Tyo grinned up at Elliot. "You want some? Go to Hardbodies, man. Ask for Tuesday's special." He laughed hysterically. "All ages. Allllll, ages. And all boys." He frowned. "All boys 'cept for the ones today. Little prick tried to run. But I took care of that." 

He grabbed Elliot with one cuffed hand causing Olivia to place her hand on her gun again. Tyo pulled Elliot closer, and Stabler grimaced at the man's breath. "I didn't want to kill him. I just freaked man. The cops."

He laid back down. "But Frank'll make it better. I know he will. He knows. He told me so. He-" Tyo pulled at his cuff lightly with every firmly pronounced word. "-can make it better. Just gotta wait for the car. Then we can leave." 

He screamed and started yanking on his cuffs, and Eileen ran to get a doctor. Elliot and Olivia held him down, until the doctor arrived, then stayed as Tyo McNillian calmed.

Olivia looked at her partner. "Hardbodies. I know that name. You know what he's talking about?"

Elliot nodded.

"Hardbodies USA." Elliot told Cregan over the phone. "It's a gay porn shop that we investigated three years ago for the sale of child pornography, but we couldn't find any evidence. McNillian was talking about a 'Frank' that he worked with but we couldn't get his last name. He said the two made porn films together. Olivia and I are betting this is the guy McNillian and his partner were taking the kids to. He's probably got some kind of studio or something."

Olivia leaned against the side of Elliot's car watching the activity swarm around the ER. Elliot touched her arm. "Munch and Fin got a possible description of Frank. White, thin and tall, with long hair."

He spoke into the phone. "McNillian also mentioned Teddy and his friends, and admitted to killing Jamal." Elliot nodded along to whatever his captain was saying. "Yeah, I know. Listen can you get John to pull up and address for Hardbodies? And one for the owner as well? I should have it on my desk, in the file marked Possible 'Wishing Well' Associates. Thanks."

He hung up and glanced at his partner, who was still watching the ER intently. "What's up?"

"They said they found poison in his cocaine."

"Yeah, Cregan said the lab identified it as rat poison."

"How did Munch and Fin get a possible description of Frank?"

"Captain said Gee told a neighbor that McNillian was calling a friend named 'Frank' before she was murdered. The same neighbor said she saw a white guy talking to McNillian, then give him something, then split. He-"

Olivia stood up straight, interrupting him. "She saw Frank give McNillian something."

Elliot nodded, then realization hit his face. "The coke. Frank poisoned McNillian."

"Probably worried that Tyo would turn in his partner and Frank."

Elliot's phone rang and he reached in his pocket. "Stabler. Yeah, that's it." He got a out a pen and Olivia gave him her notepad. "Uh, huh... Yeah. Thanks... What? Damn." He hung up.

"I got the owner's address. You're never gonna guess who this is."

* * * * *

House of Frank Berringer
7522 42nd Robins Dr.
Sunday, April 22nd 

"Frank Berringer?" Elliot knocked on the door. "Mr. Berringer?" He walked over to one of the draped windows and peered in. The lights were on. 

"What are the odds he's out at 1:25 in the morning?"

Olivia looked worried. "He might've skipped town, Elliot."

There was a sudden short but loud commotion from behind the house. Before either detective could react Fin's voice came over Olivia's walkie-talkie, crackling. "Guess who John and I caught trying to sneak out the bathroom window?"

Elliot and Olivia took one look at each other then bolted down the house's steps and to the backyard. Benson pushed the wooden bar up and opened the gate door to reveal a long haired man in pajama bottom's, being held down Fin and cuffed by Munch. "Early morning walk, Frank?" he asked.

Elliot walked over and grabbed Berringer by the cuffs, picking him up off of the ground roughly. "Too bad you didn't start a little earlier."

Olivia's mouth opened and she pointed. "Elliot, look."

He followed her finger, down to Berringer's hands. He started, shocked at what he saw. There was a large birthmark on the inside of man's left wrist. 

A large purple birthmark.

Olivia looked at Elliot. "Berringer is McNillian's partner."

Frank struggled, kicked Stabler and got free from his grasp. He rammed into Olivia pushing her to the ground, then sped through the gate. He kicked it closed with his foot just as Fin shot at him, blasting a neat little circular hole through the wood.

"Damn it!" Shouted Fin.

"Son of bitch." Elliot growled and tried to open the gate, but the wooden bar had fallen into place. He backed up and kicked at it but it wasn't budging. He looked up at the gate and, without hesitation, hoisted himself up. Olivia and Fin did the same. 

Elliot jumped over the fence and ran, momentarily joined by Olivia. 

Fin jumped over, calmly lifted the bar, and opened the gate. He held his arm out to Munch as his partner exited the backyard. John tipped his hat to Fin, then both ran to their car.

Olivia caught up with her partner. "Don't tell me we lost him." she shouted to him in the dead of early morning. 

"Rounded the corner to the left."

As they approached pulling out their guns, they could hear Munch and Fin's siren wailing close behind. As they turned the corner they saw Berringer running ahead in the bright, telling light of the overhead street lamps.

Elliot pushed himself faster. He didn't care that his leg hurt from where he'd just been kicked. He knew that if he didn't catch the creep John and Odafin would, but he couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't. He wanted to catch the filthy son of a bitch. He wanted to slam him into the ground and feel Berringer's nose break under his weight. 

And that's what he did. The squeaky clean part of Elliot Stabler took a short vacation as he tackled the child molester to the ground. He saw Fin and Munch pull up in front of him and exit the car with their guns poised. He heard his partner stop beside him, panting a little, and could feel the presence of her weapon.

Elliot flipped the child porn filmmaker over and smiled darkly at him. "Frank Berringer? You're under arrest."

Tuesday, April 24th

"Three accounts of molestation, one account resisting arrest and one account attempted murder." Munch dropped the file to his desk. "Cabot's moving the child pornography charges to another trial and hearing."

"And McNillian?"

"Trial's set for the same week as Berringer's. The counselor is already offering a plea, but Cabot's not hearing any of it."

Fin nodded, then looked over his partner's shoulder. "Those the shrink's?"

Munch frowned and turned to see two cardboard boxes on the desk that had once belonged to Monique Jeffries. "I guess so."

Fin stood up and put on his coat. "You coming to the Warner funeral."

Munch shook his head, still looking at the boxes. "Someone has to hold the fort. You?"

"Nah. Didn't meet any of the parents or kids. I'd just feel awkward. Not to mention unwelcome." He paused. "See ya in hour, then." He said, and left, eyeing his partner. 

Odafin frowned as he walked out of the SVU headquarters, thinking of the soft spot John had always had for the very tough and cynical Monique. Fin himself had only met her on a few occasions, and worked with her once when she was on loan from vice, but he had been quick to note the banter and friendship between Jeffries and Munch. 

He knew John resented psych for getting rid of a friend. And he knew his partner well enough to know that his latest conspiracy theory was a serious and valid one. Maybe the new shrink was going to be keeping her eye on each of the SVU detectives. What happened if she saw something she didn't like?

He shrugged to himself and walked through the department's doors, heading out on a minor investigation. He shivered, pulling his coat around him in the chilly, late April New York air.

Munch stood and walked over to the boxes. Inside the first were a handful of psychology books, and a couple on forensic psychiatry as well as a few files. He looked in the second. Much of the contents were of the same category as the first. 

He picked up two pictures. One had a pretty young redhead and a woman that could only have been a mother, or an older sister. The other showed the same redhead on the 25th Division Homicide baseball team, the only female in the group. They were all smiling and a couple of the guys had their arms around the woman.

Munch put the pictures back in the box and thought about Jeffries. She had been a good friend, a strong detective, and damn fine company on the job. Though his feelings never left those of friendship, he was still left hollow when she was taken from the SVU. He had established a small bond with her, and he didn't like the thought of her being replaced completely. It took him a while to get used to Fin, much less start to like the man. 

There, however, was no way he was going to get used to this new psychologist. He knew she was here to help, but he was looking at the opportunity as IA and the Commission would. They'd eventually use her against the people she was originally sent to help.

"Might as well label her 'informer'." He said to him self wearily. He walked back to his desk feeling more than a little edgy.

He looked at the invitation on his desk.

* * * * *

Queen of Heaven Cemetery
428 NW 6th Av.
Tuesday, April 24th

"And as we lay the body of young Jamal Warner to rest, we ask that you pray for his soul, his family, and his eternal rest. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Amen."

People from the crowd started to walk slowly back to their cars. Elliot and Olivia watched as Robert and Julia Warner glared at Teddy North, Eric Stanberry in his wheelchair, and their parents.

Elliot shook his head. "They can't believe it was their boy that died. They'd rather have Teddy or Eric dead then their own son."

Olivia nodded. "What would you feel put in their position?"

He looked at her, but said nothing. 

The North's and Stanberry's walked over to the SVU partners and gave their thanks. Eric Stanberry and his parents went off to their car, but Teddy wanted to speak to Olivia.

He looked up at her, maneuvering around his crutches. "I'm sorry I couldn't remember that street name. If I did do you think-" he started to cry, the tears rolling silently down his cheeks. "Do you think Jamal would have lived?"

Olivia shook her head and looked down at the ten year old. "No. Sweetie, it's not your fault. It's thanks to you that we identified the guy who did this so quickly."

He looked over at Jamal's parents. "So those men would have killed him anyway? How can people be so... bad?"

Neither Olivia nor Elliot had an answer to the boy's questions. Gerald and Debbie North took their son back to the car slowly, helping him adjust to his new crutches.

Olivia's eyes were still on the child as he got into his parents station wagon. She was thinking about how his life would soon give him a larger vocabulary with which to vocalize his thoughts of malignancy of the human existence. 

"Bad men," she muttered. "Elliot. Do you remember what he told us in hospital? About everything being his fault? How the other boys didn't even want to go that night?"

Elliot closed his eyes and shook his head. "He's gonna think Jamal's death, the death of one of his best friends, is completely his fault. He's never going to realize that they chose to go."

Olivia looked over the cemetery, eyes sad thinking about the chain of events that had brought the boys to such a horrible conclusion. The 'Bad Man', the bullies and peer pressure, the want or need for adventure in their young and fragile lives, and the evil aspect of man.

Her eyes landed on two children playing in a backyard down the street. She wondered what evil would corrupt these children's lives. 
 

THE END