Outfits in the external link
https://urstyle.fashion/collections/97666
In the criminal justice system, sexually-based offenses are considered especially heinous. In New York City, the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are members of an elite squad known as The Special Victims Unit. These are their stories.
Day One
Night - Street
Abigail walked down the street, carrying a plastic bag. She slowed to a stop, seeing a crowd around on the side, surrounding a dead woman dressed in nothing but a red slip, lying on top of a car.
Police was all around.
It was a crime scene.
Abigail walked closer, pushing past the crowd, holding a badge. "Excuse me, police."
An officer held the caution tape up so she can go through. "Step aside, make room here."
Abigail walked closer, showing her badge to a cop. "Jonson, Special Victims Unit. Jumper?"
"Jumpers open the windows first," the cop answered. "Cleared the sidewalk, nailed the car."
Abigail nodded, walking toward the victim, ignoring a man complaining about his car. She looked at the dead woman, looking at officer 2. "Anybody notify SVU?"
"'Cause she's not wearing panties, you mean?" Officer 2 asked, scoffing.
Abigail gave him a look, rolling her eyes. "Just cover her up."
Abigail looked up to the building the victim jumped off.
~~~~
Victim's Apartment
A few cops were there.
Elliot walked closer to an officer. "Hey. What are we looking at?"
"No sign of forced entry, two glasses of half-drunk wine, two clean sets of prints... lovers' quarrel," the officer told him, leading him to the bedroom side where Abigail was.
"Lovers' quarrel," Elliot repeated. "They usually kiss and make up."
CSU Technician Georgie was there, standing up. "Detective." He walked closer holding in his glove a pack. "Pack of ultra-ribs."
Officer 1 looked at Elliot. "Looks like maybe they did more than kiss."
Abigail rolled her eyes. "Yeah, he read her a little Walt Whitman, they made hot, passionate love, then before he rolled over and fell asleep, he heaved her out the window--excuse me, through the window."
Elliot walked around.
"I'm not sure what this outburst is leading up to," Officer 1 told her.
"Rape," Abigail told him, annoyed.
"Like I said, no forced entry," Officer 1 told her.
"I didn't say it was a stranger," Abigail told him.
Officer 1 stepped toward Abigail. "Plus, she wasn't exactly dressed in her 'refusal' outfit."
Elliot stepped between them, shaking his head. "I didn't hear you say that."
"Are you with the 'political correctness squad'?" Officer 1 asked sarcastically.
Elliot held his badge. "Elliot Stabler, Special Victims Unit. My partner, Detective Jonson, and I were called in on an apparent homicide with obvious sexual overtones."
Officer 1 nodded. "All right, you want it? Fine, you take it." He looked around at the cops. "Scootch, Jacoby, let's move it." He started to walk away. Abigail stood at the broken window. "Okay, guys, wrap it up."
Elliot rolled his eyes, turning around, walking to stand next to Abigail. Abigail held a picture of the victim, handing it to Elliot.
The shot moved from the window to outside, showing the victim lying on the car.
Abigail stared outside.
~~~~
Worlds Colliding (Law & Order Special Victims Unit)
~~~~
Day Two
Day - Police Department - 16th Precinct - Main Room
Pictures of the victim was on Elliot's desk.
Elliot was looking at the pictures on his desk. "Eight stories up, eight down."
Frank was leaning against Elliot's desk, looking at pictures.
"Looks like she was shot out of a cannon," Cassidy told them.
Cragen walked closer. "Guy on steroids?"
"No, the Yankees are on a road trip," John told them.
"Yeah, they're down in Baltimore kickin' a little Oriole ass," Frank told them.
Olivia and Abigail were leaning against Abigail's desk, looking at pictures.
"How about plain old testosterone-driven rage?" Olivia asked.
"Her boyfriend?" Monique asked.
"Or girl," John told her. "You could toss 100 pounds without breaking a sweat."
"Toss you, you skinny-ass geek," Monique told him.
John pointed at her, looking at the men. "See?" Frank smirked. "The rage?"
"What about the neighbors?" Cragen asked.
"Nobody knew her beyond the usual nod and wave," Elliot answered.
"She worked at home," Abigail told them. "All they knew was she carried a laptop with her."
John leaned on a desk, sighing. "The whole thing's a pyramid scheme."
Cassidy sat next to him, frowning. "What whole thing?"
John stood up. "Laptops. We've become a nation of 'laptoppers', writing orders on our laptops, more laptops, whatever happened to pens?"
Monique was reading a text book. "Vic had an appointment with a Dr. Daniels every Tuesday and Thursday at 5:15."
"Check her address book," Cragen told her, turning to Abigail. "What did she do, the vic?"
Abigail was sitting on her desk. "She was a writer." She handed Cragen a few papers. "'Street Crazies: Budget Cuts and the Mentally III'."
Abigail handed another paper to Frank.
Frank looked at the papers. "'The Short Life of Alice H.' About a suicide." Olivia leaned over to look. "'Designer Vaginas... Is This Health Care?' 'New York Ledger.'"
Monique was reading through the address book. "Michael, Steven, Sam W." All men. Daniels, Mark, clinical psychology at 911 East 72nd Street."
John took a paper from Frank, sitting next to Monique. "'How to Build a Better Orgasm' in Cosmopolitan." Monique rolled her eyes, standing up, walking away. "Somebody might kill for this."
Cragen looked from Abigail to Elliot. "You two, check the neighborhood again." He looked at Cassidy. "Cassidy, you're in court on the 'Subway Stroker' case. Is that correct?"
"Yes, sir," Cassidy answered.
"Okay, you get hung up, you call me," Cragen told him, walking away.
~~~~
Gretchen Quinn (Victim)'s Apartment
Elliot was checking the phone mail.
Gretchen: (voicemail) "This is Gretchen. Leave a message. Bye."
Voicemail: "You have no messages."
Abigail walked closer, holding a few binders, walking past him.
Elliot checked the phone again.
Gretchen: (voice mail) "This is Gretchen. Leave a message. Bye."
Voice mail: "You have no messages."
~~~~
Outside
Abigail was talking to a woman.
"I heard roughhousing, like someone throwing something," the woman told her.
A couple walked walking over.
"Then what?" Abigail asked.
"That scream, then 'crunch', and the car alarm going off," the woman told her.
"Did you see anybody leave her apartment?" Abigail asked.
"What?" the woman asked. "I was supposed to stick my head out and look? Right, so he could see my face."
The woman walked away.
Abigail rolled her eyes.
"Excuse me," woman 2 asked. Abigail turned to the couple. "How long does that girl's apartment stay a crime scene?"
"Why?" Abigail asked.
Elliot walked outside, walking closer.
"We're next on the list for a one-bedroom," the man answered.
Abigail looked away in annoyance, shaking her head.
"What's your name?" Elliot asked.
"Jason Cargill," Jason answered.
Elliot pulled out a textbook. "Well, Mr. Cargill, I'm with the real estate board..." He wrote down the name, walking past them. "You're now off the list."
Abigail followed.
Elliot and Abigail stood on the other side of the street, looking at the building.
"Half of them admitted they couldn't tell their neighbors from the perp," Abigail told him.
Elliot looked at her. "Could you?"
Abigail looked at him. "Could I what?"
"Tell your neighbors apart?" Elliot asked.
Abigail smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Why, cause I live near by? I'm never home." They started to walk away. "I never was before. And now, since I started working at the precinct, I'm always with you. If I am at home, I will be with my boyfriend."
"That guy you said you've been dating for two weeks?" Elliot asked. Abigail nodded. "By the way, when do I get to meet him?"
Abigail scoffed. "You want to meet my boyfriend?" She smirked. "What for? To scare him off?"
"We'll see," Elliot told her. Abigail chuckled. "If he'll be immune, then he's the man for you."
"And if not?" Abigail asked in amusement.
Elliot shook his head. "You don't want to know."
Abigail chuckled. "Aw, thanks for looking after me. And we've changed the subject."
"You've started," Elliot told her, shrugging.
Abigail smirked. "Back to the subject."
"Yeah, okay," Elliot told her. "People say the suburbs are anonymous."
Abigail chuckled. "Oh, no. Queens is a suburb? Since when?"
"Since we got a little space, some trees, grass to mow," Elliot told her.
Abigail smiled. "Yeah, I got a regular 8x10 of you mowing the lawn."
"I do," Elliot told her. "Sometimes."
Abigail laughed. "Admit it, Kathy does all the housework 'cause you're never there."
"Okay, I admit it, Kathy's the man of the house," Elliot told her.
Abigail nodded. "Exactly."
Elliot nodded. "Till Dickie's old enough." Abigail chuckled. "You're lucky, you got nothing to worry about. Definitely got no lawn to mow."
They reached to Elliot's car.
"Yeah, I'm a regular monk," Abigail told him sarcastically. "Better to have a much different partner, huh?"
Elliot shrugged. "Nah." He opened the backseat door. "Unlike with some others, with you, I'm getting along."
Abigail smirked, putting the binders in the backseat, closing the door.
~~~~
Night - Stabler House - Kitchen
Elizabeth Stabler was playing a piano in the living room.
Elliot was fixing the sink. "Did you give Sears a call?"
Elliot's wife, Kathy was helping their second older daughter Kathleen with homework. "I called Sears."
"And?" Elliot asked.
"And the limited warranty expired," Kathy answered.
"How the hell did that happen?" Elliot asked.
"How the hell do I know?" Kathy asked. "You're the one that wanted to buy the garbage disposal and install it yourself."
"Wait a minute," Elliot told her. "I installed this properly. If you guys would just stop throwing so much crap down it."
Kathy looked to the living room couch, looking at their older daughter Maureen, who was talking on the phone. "Marie, would you get off the phone, please?"
Maureen spoke into the phone. "I got to go."
Elliot pressed a button, getting the garbage disposal fixed, looking at his wife smugly.
Their son Dickie ran in. "Mommy, have you seen the turtle? I left him in the sink."
Kathy looked at Elliot, tilting her head.
Elliot looked down at the sink.
~~~~
Day Three
Day - Supreme Court - Courtroom
The room was full.
Cassidy was sitting on the witness stand.
The ADA Abbie was standing in front of him. "When you asked the defendant what was he thinking at the time of the assault, what did he say?"
"He said he thought she was smiling at him, so he took a seat next to her," Cassidy answered.
"The number 3 train at..." Abbie trailed off, looking at a paper in her hand. "What stop was it?"
"96th Street," Cassidy answered. "I believe the defendant's a professor at Manhattan University."
"So, he took a seat, and then what happened?" Abbie asked.
"He commenced to strike up a conversation with her but then, upon receiving no response, he surmised she was asleep," Cassidy answered.
"And then what did he do?" Abbie asked.
"Hearsay, Your Honor," the defense lawyer said.
Abbie glanced at him, looking at Cassidy. "Then what did Professor Ormond tell you he did next?"
"He put his hand inside of her blouse, and then took her hand and placed it on his b--on his... genital region, and then he made her rub him until he... until he reached his intended goal," Cassidy answered.
Abbie looked at the Judge. "No further questions, Your Honor."
Abbie walked to her desk.
The defense lawyer stood up, walking toward Cassidy. "Detective, how did this become your case? Were you on duty in the subway at the time of the alleged assault?"
"No, a passenger alerted a member of the Transit Police, who made the arrest," Cassidy answered. "The case was then referred to the Special Victims Unit."
"Of which you're a member?" the defense lawyer asked.
"Yes, sir," Cassidy answered.
"For how long?" the defense lawyer asked.
"Let's see... eight months," Cassidy answered.
"So you're an expert on sex crimes, is that correct?" the defense lawyer asked.
"We all have something tolearn," Cassidy told him.
The defense lawyer nodded. "I'm sure. Can you tell us the technical, or 'psycho-sexual' term, if you will... for fondling a stranger?"
Cassidy frowned, shrugging. "Fromage--"
"I believe it's 'frottage'," the defense lawyer said.
Cassidy nodded slightly. "Right, 'frottage'."
"Now, since the passenger turned out not to have been sleeping but was in fact deceased, what would you call that?" the defense lawyer asked.
"You know, I don't know what it's called, but I call it disgusting," Cassidy told him.
"You disapprove on moral grounds, but since the so-called 'victim', being dead, couldn't have known she was being fondled, or 'fromaged' by the defendant, where is the assault?" the defense lawyer asked.
Cassidy looked annoyed, not answering.
~~~~
Police Department - 16th Precinct - Cragen's Office
Cragen was looking at his board.
Elliot and Abigail walked in.
"You look about as happy as a postal worker at Christmas," Elliot told him.
"So, make me feel better," Cragen told them.
"We brought back a bunch of papers from her apartment," Abigail told him.
Elliot sat down on a chair. "No threatening letters from ex-boyfriends, not even a message on her answering machine. This woman makes J.D. Salinger look like a Shriner."
Frank walked in.
"Tell me about it," Cragen told them. "Not one person in her life knows she's dead yet. You believe that?"
"Jeffries struck out with the next of kin?" Elliot asked.
Frank handed Cragen a few papers, looking at Elliot. "Yeah." Olivia walked in. "On her lease application, she left 'Notify in case of emergency' blank."
"If he killed her inside, and left her there, she could have been there for weeks, months," Cragen told them.
Olivia stood next to Abigail, shaking her head. "God, could you imagine living like that?" Frank looked at her. Olivia looked at him. "What?"
Frank didn't answer. "Still a lot of 'Jane Does' on the books, years later."
"Not on ours," Cragen told them. "Somebody knows her story."
Abigail crossed her arms over her chest. "Her shrink."
"Okay, her shrink," Cragen told them.
Elliot stood up.
~~~~
Mark Daniels' House - Outside
Olivia and Frank were outside.
Mark opened the door. "Oh, hello. Listen, folks, I don't accept walk-ins or couples. In fact, I'm expecting a patient."
Frank and Olivia exchanged a look, looking back at Mark.
"We're not a couple," Olivia told him.
Frank pulled out his badge. "Well, in any event, your patient won't be coming in today, Doctor."
Mark frowned. "What do you mean?"
Frank put away his badge. "She's dead."
Mark stared at them.
~~~~
Office
Mark leaded Frank and Olivia inside.
"We've been unable to locate next of kin, a boyfriend... any close friends," Olivia told him. "We're hoping you could help us with that."
Mark shook his head, walking past them. "You know I can't do that."
"We know, 'doctor-patient blah, blah, blah'," Olivia told him. "We could get a court order to help you out of your ethical quagmire."
Mark walked around to his desk, looking at them. He sighed softly, opening a file. "Gretchen's parents are dead. She has a sister named Ellen Travis out in the Denver area."
"Fiancé?" Frank asked. "Boyfriend?"
Mark shook his head. "Not that she mentioned. She was a very private person."
"Except with you," Olivia told him.
"That's what I get paid for," Mark told them.
~~~~
Office Of Medical Examiner - Hallway
Elliot, Abigail, Olivia and Frank were standing together outside of the morgue.
"So, the shrink didn't even ask how she died?" Abigail asked.
"Nope," Frank answered. "He was trying his best not to answer our questions, probably figured he shouldn't ask any either."
They walked into the morgue.
~~~~
Morgue
Gretchen's body was on the table.
Elizabeth was there, looking at Elliot, Abigail, Olivia and Frank. "Here something I don't see everyday. The four of you all together in my Morgue." She looked at the body. "Lacerations from the glass. Broken neck, ribs, lumbar."
"Before or from the fall?" Olivia asked.
"From," Elizabeth answered.
"Any sign of a struggle?"Elliot asked.
Elizabeth shook her head.
"The neighbor said that she heard a lot of commotion before the fall," Abigail told them.
"It must have been consensual commotion then, no contusions, no internal abrasions," Elizabeth told them.
"A gun to the head wouldn't leave an abrasion," Abigail told her.
"I'm on your side, Detective," Elizabeth told her.
Abigail shrugged slightly.
~~~~
Day Four
Police Department - 16th Precinct - Cragen's Room
Cragen, Olivia, Frank, Abigail and Elliot were all talking.
"Liv and I left messages for everyone the shrink gave up, including the sister in Colorado," Abigail told them.
Olivia sat on a chair. "Voice mail, voice mail, voice mail. Doesn't anybody pick up the phone anymore?"
"She was hiding from somebody," Frank told them, sitting on another chair.
"A violent ex?" Olivia asked.
Elliot shrugged. "Exes."
"I thought the shrink said 'no boyfriend'," Cragen told them.
"He seemed uncertain," Olivia told him.
"He seemed uncooperative," Frank told them.
"You're gonna have to make good on your threat," Cragen told them. "Get a court order and compel him to stop his pussyfooting."
His phone rang.
Cragen picked it up.
Elliot looked at Frank, Olivia and Abigail, shrugging. "Jackson."
"What?" Cragen asked. He held the phone. "Elliot."
Elliot took the phone. "Stabler. Yeah. Good. Get outta here. Any priors? Thanks a lot." He hung up. "I got to tell ya, I love computers."
"The print on the wine glass?" Cragen asked.
"Matched one they got on record on Albany," Elliot told them.
"State prison?" Abigail asked.
"New York State Department of Psychiatry, a Dr. Mark Daniels," Elliot told them.
Olivia shook her head. "Her own shrink?"
Frank looked at Cragen. "Well, I guess the pussyfootin's over."
Cragen nodded, leaning back on his chair.
~~~~
Mark Daniels' House - Office
Olivia and Frank were there.
Mark was sitting on a chair.
His brother, Attorney Daniels was leaning on Mark's desk. "I'm sorry, my brother wants to be helpful, but legally, his hands are tied."
"His hands were in her apartment," Frank told him. "We lifted some very well-educated prints from a glass of wine."
"Dr. Daniels, can you explain when and why you were visiting your patient?" Olivia asked.
Mark opened his mouth.
Attorney Daniels held a finger up. "Wait--he was in Ms. Quinn's apartment briefly at lunchtime, at her request, to attend to a crisis."
"Or an erection?" Olivia asked.
"That's insulting," Mark told her.
"Really?" Frank asked. "I thought it was the absence of one that was insulting."
"Whoa, whoa!" Attorney Daniels said. "What's your point?"
"The point is, what was your brother doing in her apartment?" Olivia asked.
"A brief professional consultation," Attorney Daniels answered. "He returned to the office at 2:30 to attend to patients for the rest of the day."
"Doctor, where were you that evening, say around 8:00?" Frank asked.
"I don't think--" Attorney Daniels started.
"I was at a fellow therapist's," Mark answered. "A lady fellow therapist's... having dinner at her apartment. I got there around 6:30 and I left there around 9:00."
Frank pulled out his textbook. "You got a name and number on your 'lady fellow therapist' friend?"
~~~~
Hospital - Hallway
Elliot and Abigail were in an elevator with a woman, walking out.
"Dr. Mark Daniels was at my apartment last evening from about 6:30 till a little after 9:00," the woman told them.
"Do you have a doorman, or was anyone else home?" Abigail asked.
"No," the woman answered. They reached to the main desk. "Can you tell me what this is about?"
"Maybe you should ask the doctor about that," Elliot told her.
The woman handed a file to a nurse. "Dr. Daniels is extremely busy."
"Yeah, I'll bet," Elliot told her sarcastically. "You know any other women he's gettin' 'busy' with?"
"We have a professional relationship," the woman told them. "I have absolutely no interest in his personal life. Excuse me."
The woman walked past them, leaving.
~~~~
Street
Frank, Olivia, Abigail and Elliot were walking together.
Abigail and Elliot told Frank and Olivia what they talked to with the woman.
"You guys think she's lying for him?" Olivia asked.
Abigail sighed. "Who can tell?"
Frank's phone rang. He answered it. "Russo. Hey, Wendy, thanks for getting back to me so quickly." He smirked. "Nah... this is about a woman. She wrote for ya." He looked at watch. "Perfect. See you then."
~~~~
The New York Ledger - Offices
Frank, Olivia, Abigail and Elliot walked closer to a woman.
The woman looked at Frank, smirking. "Hey, Frank. How you been?"
"Hey, Wendy," Frank told her. He nodded to Olivia. "This is my partner, Olivia Benson." He nodded toward Elliot and Abigail. "Those are Detectives Elliot Stabler and Abigail Jonson."
"Hey," Wendy told them. She looked at Frank. "So, what can I do for you?"
Frank handed her Gretchen's picture before her death. "You know this woman?"
Wendy shook her head. "I don't think so, no. Oh, wait, that the girl who was defenestrated on 82nd Street. I saw the photo in the competition. We don't go much for death scenes."
"Her name was Gretchen Quinn," Olivia told her.
Wendy looked at the picture. "Are you sure?"
"We found your name in her Rolodex thought you could help us out," Elliot told her.
Wendy shook her head slightly. "I talked to her on the phone once or twice when she called to say she liked a certain column, but I never met her."
"You ran some of her articles," Frank told her.
"I'm a columnist, handsome, not an editor," Wendy told him, handing the picture to Frank.
~~~~
Street
Olivia, Frank, Elliot and Abigail walked together.
Abigail was on the phone.
Elliot looked at Frank. "What did Wendy asked you?"
Frank shrugged. "Nothing." Elliot smirked. Olivia rolled her eyes. "It's nothing."
"So what Frank Russo is single now, and all the single ladies are getting in line?" Elliot asked teasingly. Frank scoffed. "Has Cassidy asked for tips yet?" Frank chuckled, shaking his head, looking away. "I think it as a 'yes'."
"Shut up," Frank told him.
Elliot smirked.
"Okay, boys, this really not the right time," Olivia told them.
Frank and Elliot looked at her. "What?"
Olivia shook her head.
"Thank you," Abigail said, hanging up the phone. "Her credit card shows a regular series of expensive dinners for the last year. The last one at 'll Posto Vecchio' for $372."
Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Not cheap."
Abigail shook her head. "Nope."
~~~~
Il Posto Vecchio - Inside
Elliot and Abigail were talking to the owner.
The owner walked to the side. "So many beautiful faces to remember."
Elliot rolled his eyes. "Oh, dumb me." He and Abigail walked after him, turning to him. Elliot held his badge. "Will this help jog your memory?"
"She was with one of the anchors," the owner told them, looking at Gretchen's picture. "Not local either." A waitress walked closer. "National. But then, they all look the same."
The waitress looked at the picture. "I remember her. She was with Dallas Warner. Got a serious tip."
"You did, huh?" Elliot asked. "Those anchors make a lot of money."
"Not from him, from her," the waitress told them. "Guess she was his boss. I love that."
The waitress walked away.
Abigail and Elliot exchanged a look.
~~~~
News Station
Abigail and Elliot were talking to Dallas Warner as they walked to the makeup room.
"We got a lead with repercussions to the Senate run," Dallas told them. "She was in incredibly riveting interview."
"I'm sure she was, but we're here about Gretchen Quinn," Abigail told him.
"She related to Sally?" Dallas asked. "My wife and I are having dinner with her in Georgetown next week, Ben, too, if he gets back from Europe."
~~~~
Makeup Room
They walked inside.
A woman was there.
"Not Sally, Gretchen," Abigail told him. "She was also a writer. I believe that you knew her."
Dallas looked at the woman, bending down slightly, pointing to the top of his head. "Is there anything you can do with this?"
"Mr. Warner," Elliot told him.
Dallas looked at Elliot and Abigail, nodding to the woman. "Excuse us."
The woman nodded, walking out, leaving.
Dallas sat on his chair.
"Yes or no?" Elliot asked.
Dallas poured himself a glass of water. "Knew her? Does anybody ever really know anybody?"
"Don't get philosophical with us," Elliot told him. "You're just a teleprompter jockey, we're just cops."
"I haven't seen her in over a month," Dallas told them.
"Were you on the air last night?" Abigail asked.
"No, I'm off Saturday through Monday," Dallas answered. "I was having dinner with my wife last night." He wrote the address on a paper. "There's a maitre d' and a room full of waiters who know that I was there." He handed the paper to Abigail. "I assume you can confirm this without contacting her. If you'd like a picture of her, I'd be happy to provide one."
There was a knock on the door.
A woman looked inside. "On in five, Mr. Warner."
The woman walked away.
~~~~
Main Room
Dallas was sitting now on the counter. "Good evening, I'm Dallas Warner. White House sources today--"
Elliot and Abigail were talking quietly.
"He's either a sociopath or he really believes his line of B.S," Abigail told him.
"Sociopath," Elliot told her.
Abigail shook her head slightly. "What does he think, he's the second coming of Walter Cronkite?"
They started to walk away.
"Well, he was kind enough to grant us an interview," Elliot told her.
"Yeah, like he was doing Gretchen a favor by having her on the side," Abigail told him.
"Hubris," Elliot told her.
"Tell me about it," Abigail muttered.
"He's already figured that her death is less important than his life, his career," Elliot told her. He scoffed. "Oh, man."
"What?" Abigail asked.
"I just know, a guy like that... his alibi's gonna check," Elliot told her, walking away, leaving.
Abigail looked back at the TV screen, shaking her head, following Elliot.
~~~~
The Black Pearl - Outside
Elliot and Abigail were talking to a waiter.
"A couple of days ago," the waiter told them. "How could I forget? She was having drinks with that gorgeous anchorman. What's his name? 'Warner'? 'Warren'? Whatever."
"Dallas Warner?" Abigail asked.
"Him," the waiter agreed. "She didn't look happy, though."
"Why is that?" Elliot asked.
"Women?" the waiter asked. "Who knows? I should have such problems."
"Professional unhappiness, or personal?" Abigail asked.
"She was stroking his arm, crying, he was sitting up straight, looking around," the waiter told them. "I see this a hundred times a week, baby, and the body language? It was personal, as in... the man was already gone. Is that all?"
~~~~
News Station - Dallas Warner's Office
Dallas opened the door. "Please." He let Abigail and Elliot walk inside, stepping in, closing the door as he looked at his watch. He walked around his desk, sitting on his chair. "Yes, I was with her Monday night. When you told me she was dead, I was shocked."
"Funny, you didn't look shocked you seemed rather cool, in fact," Elliot told him, sitting down on a chair.
"I was being discreet, Detective," Dallas told him.
"Being discreet and lying to the police are two different animals," Abigail told him.
"I was good for her," Dallas told them. "Before me, she'd been with a bunch of lying psychos."
Abigail crossed her arms over her chest. "You know any of the other liars' names?"
"No," Dallas answered. "I was safe exactly what she needed. I called her often and returned her calls promptly."
"What happened the last time you saw her?" Abigail asked.
"She called me up crying," Dallas answered. "I asked her if she wanted to meet for a drink, I had some time before dinner. As soon as I sat down at the table she told me she had been sleeping with her psychiatrist it had been going on intensely for a couple of weeks."
"Why would she confide in you?" Elliot asked.
"I'm a good listener," Dallas told them.
"When you want to get into somebody's pants," Abigail told him.
"If you want to get snotty, I'll call my lawyer and you can forget about mutual cooperation," Dallas told her.
"Then I'll call your lawyer and ask him if you killed Gretchen," Abigail told him.
"And why would I have done that?" Dallas asked.
"To keep her from blabbing to your wife," Abigail told him.
"That's enough," Dallas told her.
Elliot stood up. "Excuse us, one second." He turned to Abigail. "Detective Jonson, why don't you go down, talk to Carmichael at the D.A.'s office, and let's see if we can get that O.B.B. Started, okay?"
Elliot leaded Abigail outside, looking over at Dallas, stepping out, closing the door.
~~~~
Hallway
Abigail started to walk away in annoyance.
Elliot followed. You want me to bust him in the grill?" They stopped, facing each other. "We're not getting anywhere in there."
"It's not we, it's me," Abigail told him.
"What's that mean?" Elliot asked.
"That pompous jerk will never condescend to deal with a woman," Abigail told him. "Call Frank, ask him to come along and go in there."
Elliot nodded slightly. "We good?"
Abigail nodded. "We're good."
~~~~
Balcony
Dallas was leaning on the railing.
Elliot and Frank walked closer.
Dallas looked over. "Everything all right, Detective?"
"Yeah," Elliot answered. He nodded toward Frank. "Uh, this is Detective Russo."
Dallas nodded. "Hey." He looked down the balcony. "You know, up here, you get a whole different perspective on people."
"Like ants?" Frank asked.
Dallas smiled a small smile, nodding. "Yeah, a bit."
"So, we were with Gretchen's shrink," Elliot told him.
Dallas nodded. "Yeah, she said that at first, it had been exhilarating, him knowing all of her darkest shadows and falling for her anyway... all of that. I said I thought she should sue him."
"A little late for that," Elliot told him.
"You know, if you repeat what you told us about the therapist for say, a grand jury--" Frank started.
Dallas shook his head. "No, no, no, this was off the record."
"No, no, no, it's not a '60 Minutes' interview here," Elliot told him. "This is a homicide investigation."
"Still, it's your word against mine, and mine is trusted around the world," Dallas told them.
Elliot smirked. "How about in your own home?" He let the smirk fad away. "How good is your word there, Dallas?"
Dallas didn't answer, looking from Elliot to Frank, looking away.
~~~~
~~~~
Police Department - 16th Precinct - Upstairs Hallway
Cragen, Frank, Elliot, Olivia and Abigail walked together.
"Warner seems to have a solid alibi," Frank told them. "I don't think he'd offer up dinner with his wife in a public place if he were lying."
They walked down the stairs.
"We got the shrink's fingerprints at the scene, I'll get the DNA order on that if I have to," Cragen told them. "Listen, I got a call about the body. They need to make room in the morgue."
"There's still no one to release her to?" Olivia asked.
~~~~
Main Room
"Hey, you tell me," Cragen told them.
"We got a sister in Denver, but as of now she remains as much a mystery as Gretchen," Abigail told him.
"No memorabilia in her belongings?" Cragen asked.
"We haven't had a chance to sift through her stuff," Abigail told him.
Elliot and Abigail walked past them, starting to sit at their desks.
Cragen turned to them. "You know when a good time to do that might be?"
Elliot and Abigail stood up.
Cragen walked away, leaving.
Frank looked at Elliot and Abigail, smirking, starting to walk away.
"Oh, no," Abigail told him, grabbing his arm, looking from him to Olivia. "You two are helping out, remember?"
Frank and Olivia exchanged a look.
~~~~
Hallway
John and Cassidy were walking together down the hallway.
"From the Creek, Cassidy," John told him. "'Necro', 'Death', 'Philia', 'Love of.' You try it."
"Necrophilia," Cassidy told him.
"Again," John told him.
"Necrophilia," Cassidy repeated.
"Or 'Egyptian love', according to Henry Miller," John told him. "Necrophilia."
"Necrophilia," Cassidy repeated.
John nodded. "Good man."
~~~~
Main Room
Abigail and Olivia were sitting at Abigail's desk, while Elliot and Frank were sitting at Elliot's desk.
Gretchen's stuff were all on the desks. They were all looking through her stuff.
"She must have had fun naming her computer files," Elliot told them, looking into a file. "This is 'Penis dot Quotes'." He held it to Frank, Olivia and Abigail. "Any of you want to read it or should I?"
Abigail and Olivia shook their heads. "No."
"Knock yourself out," Frank told him.
Elliot looked into the file, closing it, handing it to Abigail. "No, that's yours."
Cragen walked closer. "Anything?"
"No," Frank answered.
Olivia looked at a book. "Okay, 'Biology of the Amazons' by Gretchen Quinn. 'There's a tiny catfish feared more than the piranha. It's called a--'"
"'Candiru'," Cragen finished.
They looked at them.
"Say what?" Frank asked.
"This is beautiful," Cragen told them, nodding to Olivia. "Tell them."
Olivia looked back at the book. "'It will swim right into a man's penis and lodge itself there by erecting sharp spines--'"
"'Erecting sharp spines'," Elliot repeated. "That's a fish with a sense of irony. How'd you know that?"
"In the jungle they always taught us, 'Don't hold your nose, hold your stones'," Cragen told them.
Abigail, Elliot and Frank smirked.
Olivia chuckled, shaking her head, closing the book.
Frank read a book, letting his smile fad away. "Bingo."
They looked at him.
"Yearbook?" Abigail asked.
Frank closed the book. "'Book of poetry' by Sylvia Plath."
Frank handed the book to Olivia.
Olivia took it. "Of course."
"Overdue 20 years from Patterson High School," Frank told them.
~~~~
New Jersey
Patterson High School - Outside
Elliot and Abigail were walking together.
Elliot was on the phone. "We're on our way back. The victim's real name was 'Susan Sidarsky'. About 20 minutes. Right." Elliot hung up, looking at Abigail. "Frank said blood tests aren't in. Shrink and his mouthpiece are."
~~~~
New York
Police Department - 16th Precinct - Room
Frank and Olivia were interrogating Mark.
Mark was sitting on a chair.
Attorney Daniels was sitting on a chair next to him.
Olivia was standing behind Mark.
Frank was standing in front of them.
"Gretchen presented classic signs of childhood sexual abuse," Mark told them. "She was overly promiscuous, she was very seductive, she was constantly asking me whether or not I found her attractive."
"Did you?" Olivia asked.
Mark didn't answer. "And then she told me her father started abusing her after her 13th birthday."
Olivia walked around to stand next to Frank. "Abusing her how?"
"Must I be clinical?" Mark asked. "Come on."
"Yes, you must," Olivia told him. "Emotional abuse? Fondling? What?"
"Intercourse," Mark answered.
"In less clinical words, you mean 'rape'," Olivia told him.
Mark nodded. "And the minute she graduated from high school, she ran. She moved almost every year."
"So, she stopped running when she got to New York?" Olivia asked. Mark nodded. "How often did you see her?"
Attorney Daniels pointed a finger. "As a patient?"
"Yes, as a patient," Olivia answered.
"Twice a week," Mark answered.
Olivia looked from Frank to Mark. "That must get expensive, no?"
"She had a trust fund, although she told me she refused to touch it," Mark told them. "But it didn't matter, I billed her insurance."
Frank looked at him for a moment, crossing his arms over his chest. "About her sexual experiences?"
"Well it was anonymous and joyless with her," Mark answered. "She would take any man on the block, as long as she picked him before he decided on her. She had a history of deranged lovers."
"Any one of whom could have killed her," Attorney Daniels told them.
Olivia nodded. "Well, thank you, thank you for being so open with us... although you left out the part where you were her last deranged lover."
"That's unfair," Attorney Daniels told her.
"So is sleeping with a vulnerable patient who trusted you," Frank told them.
"Listen, I never..." Mark trailed off. "I, uh..."
"What?" Frank asked.
Mark shook his head. "I never meant to betray her."
"Yeah, but you did," Frank told him. "I think the psychiatry board is gonna take a dim view of your betrayal."
Frank turned around, walking away, leaving.
~~~~
Night - Stabler Home - Kitchen
Frank, Elliot and Kathy were talking.
Frank and Elliot were drinking beers.
"You got signs all over school about 'stranger danger'," Elliot told them. "How do you warn them about people they're supposed to trust? Their priests? Scout leaders? Future therapists? You tell me... how do you tell children about this without having them be completely paranoid?"
Kathy shook her head. "The three of us had this conversation before."
Frank took a sip from his beer. "Yeah..." He looked at Kathy. "Her therapist wasn't the only one doing her." Kathy frowned. "Her father."
Kathy raised an eyebrow. "Her father?"
Elliot and Frank nodded. "Yeah."
Kathy looked away in disgust.
Frank shook his head. "How could anyone... Her father."
~~~~
Day Five
Morning - Police Department - 16th Precinct - Hallway
Abigail walked down the hallway.
John walked after her. "Abby."
Abigail turned to him. "Good morning, John."
They walked together.
"The vic's sister from Denver is here," John told her.
"Here in the unit?" Abigail asked.
"New York," John answered. "Two-bedroom suite, Midtown. She's not exactly warm and bubbly."
"Well, grief does strange things to people," Abigail told him.
John shook his head. "I don't think it's grief. Two sisters growing up in the same abusive household, what are the chances it only happened to one of them?"
Abigail shook her head, sighing. "Probably very slim."
~~~~
Main Room
John and Abigail walked in.
"The vic went to impressive lengths to escape her family," John told her.
"To escape her father, changing her name from 'Susan' to 'Gretchen'," Abigail told him. "Gretchen is someone who never met Daddy Sidarsky. She ran to a different city, she ran from man to man trying to find comfort."
~~~~
Later
Cassidy was talking to Olivia. "Did you know Necrophilia is not only with dead people?"
Olivia looked at John. "Do you see what you started?"
"No, I got it off the Net," Cassidy told them. Frank walked closer, pouring coffee to himself and Olivia. "Supposedly some famous actor out in Hollywood, hires hookers to lie in an ice bath... waits until they turn blue with the cold before diving in."
Frank stared at him, raising an eyebrow.
John nodded, placing a hand on Cassidy. "Let's move on. 'Compulsive onanism'."
John and Cassidy walked away.
Elliot and Abigail were standing together behind them, chuckling.
Cragen walked closer. "Hey, so the Quinn girl's sister? She's here."
Elliot looked at Abigail. "Got the release forms?"
Abigail nodded.
Elliot and Abigail walked away.
~~~~
Room
A woman was waiting inside, staring out the window.
Abigail and Elliot walked inside.
"Mrs. Travis?" Abigail asked. Ellen Travis turned to them. "Abigail Jonson. My partner, Elliot Stabler. We're the detectives on your sister's case."
Ellen nodded.
"Why don't you have a seat?" Elliot asked, placing a paper on the table. Abigail and Elliot sat down. Elliot held a pair of keys, placing them down. "These are the keys to your sister's apartment if you'd like to drop by, maybe take some family items."
Ellen sat down. "Not that there'll be any."
"Why do you say that?" Abigail asked.
"I haven't talked to my sister in over 20 years," Ellen told them. "About two months ago, she started calling me out of the blue saying that she wanted a relationship."
"And?" Abigail asked.
"Well, it was superficial, to say the least, and then it stopped," Ellen told them.
"Still, you've been the only relative we've been able to locate," Abigail told her. "Your sister was somewhat of a... mystery."
"She was a drama queen, Detective," Ellen told her, looking at the paper. "No one could ever figure her out."
"I thought she was nine years old when you left for Colorado," Elliot told her.
Ellen looked at him. "Well, nine year old girls are complicated."
"Tell me about it," Elliot told her. He pulled out a pen, handing it to her. "If you'd like to use the phone to call your relatives about the funeral--"
Ellen took the pen. "My father's dead. And what funeral?" She signed the paper. "I'm in New York to sign the papers, go to Saks, and take the next plane home."
Ellen stood up, taking her bag.
"Then we won't keep you any longer," Elliot told her. "Thank you for your time."
Ellen walked out, leaving.
Elliot and Abigail stood up.
"Well, she was molested, you know that," Abigail told him. She shook her head. "That cold facade of hers?"
"Maybe it's just living in Colorado," Elliot told her.
Abigail tilted her head. "She dresses more 'Fifth Avenue' than 'Rocky Mountain'."
Elliot hesitated. "I'm having a 'fashion police' blackout."
Abigail gave him a look. "That outfit. Gretchen's shrink said that she never touched her trust fund. I mean--"
Elliot pointed to the door, as if to Ellen. "But this one..." Abigail nodded, sighing. "Who's paying?" They exchanged a look. Elliot took the keys. "Who's paying?"
Elliot and Abigail walked out, leaving.
~~~~
The New York Ledger - Offices
Abigail and Elliot were talking to Wendy.
"Don't you people have computer files of your own?" Wendy asked.
"Yeah, 20,000 known sex offenders, all cross-referenced by proclivity and physical characteristics," Abigail told him.
Wendy raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"We can give you every pederast in Manhattan with a four-inch unit, but 401K's that's out of our area of expertise," Elliot told her.
Wendy leaded them to a man. "Trent Peterson. Jonson, Stabler."
"How can I help you?" Trent asked.
"I was telling them about the Business section's new system and how you can get financial data on anybody or any corporation in the free world," Wendy told him. "Am I right?"
"Yes, but..." Trent trailed off. "Did the M.E. Clear this?"
Wendy tilted her head. "Peterson, I'm on a deadline. The Sidarsky trust."
~~~~
Police Department - 16th Precinct - Main Room
Elliot, Cragen and Abigail walked together.
"So, the sister is dipping into the vic's trust fund," Cragen told them. "Is that what we got here?"
"No, she had her own separate account," Abigail told him. "Gretchen's just sat there and grew."
"Grew how?" Cragen asked.
They walked past Abigail and Elliot's desks.
"31/2 million and still climbing," Elliot told him, grabbing a file from his desk.
"Oh, really?" Cragen asked. "That's a lot of money and a lot of motive." Elliot handed him the file. "What's this? The inheritance?"
~~~~
Cragen's Office
They walked inside.
"Not an inheritance," Elliot answered. "It's a trust. A living trust, managed by her father."
Cragen turned to them in confusion. "Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. I thought you said the father was dead."
"Yeah," Elliot told him.
Abigail nodded. "Right, but we were misinformed."
"Robert Sidarsky lives and works in New Jersey," Elliot told him. "You want to know his shoe size?"
"I'll tell you what I want to know," Cragen told them. "I want to know the truth about these people."
Cragen handed the file back to Elliot.
~~~~
New Jersey
Laurel Athletic Shoes, Inc. - Inside
Elliot and Abigail were talking to Robert Sidarsky.
"All the creative people, our R&D, marketing, in-house ad staff, that's all done here in Jersey," Robert told them.
"But the sneaks are made where?" Elliot asked. "China? Malaysia?"
"For the most part, yeah," Robert answered.
"Don't worry, Mr. Sidarsky, we're not here on child labor violations," Abigail told him.
"Oh, we don't have any secrets here," Robert told them.
"Oh, we all have secrets," Abigail told him.
"Um, could you please enlighten me?" Robert asked.
"Your daughter's dead, Mr. Sidarsky," Elliot told him.
Robert looked at them in shock. "What? No. No. Does my wife know? I have to call my wife."
"Somebody threw her out of a window on East 82nd Street," Abigail told him.
Robert frowned. "What? That's impossible, my family is at the shore. They're vacationing. I was supposed to meet them on Friday."
"We have a positive identification, sir," Elliot told him. "Your second child, born May 10th, 1967?"
"S--Susan," Robert told them. "Susie was lost to me a long time ago. Such a sad child. Such a sad ending." He sighed. "Well..."
Abigail raised an eyebrow.
~~~~
Outside - Parking Lot
Elliot and Abigail walked out.
"What do you think?" Elliot asked.
"What do I think?" Abigail repeated. "I'd like to kick the shit out of him."
"Even if you get Gretchen's sister to come forward, the statute of limitations is long gone," Elliot told her.
"Maybe not," Abigail told him.
"Meaning?" Elliot asked.
"'Megan's Law'," Abigail told him. "If we can pump the sister's memory, it'd start the clock all over again on the emotional abuse."
"I don't know, Abby," Elliot told her. "Recovered memory is such a rat hole."
Abigail shrugged. "So? It's worth a shot."
"It's not even gonna help our case," Elliot told her.
Abigail turned to face him, making him stop walking. "Elliot. So, maybe he's not her killer. We slap a molestation case on him. I'm worried about that little girl. That little girl by the seashore waiting for Daddy to come home."
"Who's got a mother," Elliot told her. "Who's still alive, and we can only hope is paying attention."
"Hope?" Abigail asked. "Hope isn't good enough, Elliot."
~~~~
New York
Evening - Jonson Home - Living Room
Abigail was leaning against the doorway, watching her 11 years old sister, Natalie watching TV on the couch.
Abigail sighed softly, walking closer, sitting next to her. "Hey."
Natalie looked at her. "Hey." She looked back at the TV. "How was work?"
Abigail nodded. "Okay. How was school?" Natalie shrugged. Abigail looked to the TV. "What you watching?"
Natalie shrugged. "I don't know what it is. There isn't something good on." Abigail nodded. Natalie looked at her. "Are you okay?" Abigail looked at her. "You look sad."
Abigail shook her head. "No. I'm okay..." She looked from the TV to Natalie. "Hey, Nat?"
"Mmm?" Natalie hummed.
"You know I love you, right?" Abigail asked. "And that I will always be there for you, not matter what."
Natalie nodded. "I know. I love you, too."
Abigail smiled a small smile, wrapping an arm around her sister's shoulder, pulling her to her side. Natalie wrapped her arms around her, lying her head on Abigail's side.
~~~~
Police Department - 16th Precinct - Cragen's Office
Cragen was in his office, pulling a bottle of whiskey and a glass.
Frank walked in, knocking on the door. "Hey." He noticed the bottle. "Uh... I thought you don't drink anymore."
"I can sometimes," Cragen told him, sitting down. Frank hesitated, tilting his head. "Relax, I know the limit. Come on, sit down." Frank walked closer, sitting on a chair. Cragen handed him another glass, pouring a shot of whiskey. "Remember my story? Back in Homicide, we used to go out every night and get smashed." He poured himself whiskey. "We'd tell war stories, maybe fool around a little bit and feel like crap the next morning. Cheers." Frank and Cragen their glasses together, drinking. "This is better."
Frank scoffed. "Much."
Cragen sighed, staring at Frank for a moment, nodding slightly. "Remember that case I had? That one that had that teenager boy, getting into fights... getting himself into trouble every day for two years?" Frank looked down, nodding. "What was his name again?"
Frank looked at him, smirking slightly. He held a hand up. "Hey."
Cragen chuckled. "Yeah." Frank put the glass on the table. "You were a fighter. Still do, but a bit smarter." Frank chuckled. "When you were 15 that's when Marge and I took you in."
"Yeah, I remember," Frank told him, nodding. "You put me into new school, got me into college and then here."
Cragen nodded, smiling a small smile. "I remember how Marge looked at you. She loved you like her own son. I love you like you my own son." Frank nodded slightly, looking down. "Still, you were a pain in my ass then, and a pain in the ass now."
Frank smirked. "I can feel the love coming out from you."
Cragen shrugged, holding his glass up. Frank clicked his glass with Cragen's.
~~~~
Day Six
Morning - Main Room
Cassidy, John, Elliot, Monique, Frank, Olivia, Cragen and Abigail were together.
Elliot was throwing a tennis ball up to the air, catching it. "What's his face, Warner--the 'Peter Jennings' look-alike? He's got a solid alibi. Half the people on the Upper East Side knew he was stepping out on his wife. You tell me, what's the motive?"
"Then it's the shrink, yes?" Cragen asked.
Frank and Olivia answered together. "No."
"Again, what's the motive?" Abigail asked. Elliot threw the ball to Frank. Frank caught it. "He did some damage, I'll admit, but..."
Cassidy was reading a news paper. "Psychic damage."
Frank threw the ball to Elliot.
Elliot caught it.
John frowned. "What are you? 'Mr. Insight' now? Where did you get that, 'The Psychic Hotline'?"
"Hey, he was," Olivia told him. "He raped her emotionally, but killed her?" Elliot threw the ball to Frank. Frank caught it. Olivia looked at Frank, shaking her head. "No way."
Frank shook his head in agreement, throwing the ball to Elliot.
Elliot caught it.
"Okay, then who?" Cragen asked.
"I say you got to take a look at the father," Frank told them.
"The father, who hasn't seen her in 20 years?" Cragen asked. "Why?"
"Because she was in hiding from 'Daddy Dearest'?" Monique asked, shrugging. Elliot threw the ball to Frank. Frank caught it. "I mean, the shrink said the old man was cunning and still patient."
"So he finds out she's living in Manhattan, says to the new wife and kid, 'Get some fried clams, I got an errand in the city,' he goes, 'Ding-dong, hi, it's Daddy,' and throws her out the window?" John asked.
"Dr. Mark Daniels, the psychotherapist, was at the crime scene," Cragen told them. "We've got his fingerprints on a wine glass and a pack of 'ribbed ultra-thins', as I recall." Frank threw the ball to Elliot. Elliot caught it. "So, would somebody please tell me why he is not in interrogation, even as we speak, being sweated by two of my best detectives?"
"It wasn't him," Olivia told him. "It was the father. What if she did cash one of her trust fund checks? That's how he found her. He goes to her apartment, he walks in, she's banging the shrink, or the anchorman... he's possessive, jealous... all the usual crap."
"I don't know," Cragen told them. "The new daughter, the young one... that's where his focus would be."
"Maybe Gretchen was writing a novel about how pathetic her childhood was," John told them. "Why not?Everybody else is."
Elliot looked at Abigail. "You got to get that sister to talk."
Abigail looked at Cragen.
Cragen nodded slightly. "Be my guest."
~~~~
Hotel - Outside
Ellen was walking outside.
Abigail walked up to her. "Mrs. Travis, what time does your flight leave?"
"Soon," Ellen answered. "Not soon enough, but soon."
"You want to get back to your children, I know," Abigail told her. "I'm sure they're anxious to see their Mommy again."
"They are, so, if you wouldn't mind," Ellen told her.
"I wanted to say I'm sorry we were so rough on you the other day," Abigail told her.
They stopped next to a black car.
Ellen turned to her. "You're probably wondering why I didn't stay and protect my little sister. Is that it?"
"I'm sorry," Abigail told her. Ellen got inside the backseat of the car. Abigail held the door open. "Wait, please don't go." She bend down. "Please. Did you know that you have a little half-sister?" Ellen looked at her, taking off her sunglasses. "She's 10. You know what's going to happen to her."
Ellen shook her head, looking down. "No."
"The same thing that happened to you, Mrs. Travis," Abigail told her.
"It was her drama, not mine," Ellen told her.
"Please, Mrs. Travis, just listen to me," Abigail told her. "It's your drama, too." Ellen looked away, tears in her eyes. "Now please, we can help."
"I have to go," Ellen told her.
"Please, just one more day," Abigail told her. "In a lifetime."
Ellen looked at her.
~~~~
Police Department - 16th Precinct - Room
Robert was inside the interrogation room, wearing a suit, sitting on a chair, waiting.
Ellen, Abigail, Elliot, Olivia, Frank and Cragen were watching him through the window.
"Can you imagine being a little girl in his house?" Ellen asked.
Abigail placed a comforting hand on Ellen's shoulder.
Ellen took a deep breath, walking to the door, stepping inside, closing the door.
Robert stood up, reaching for Ellen.
"Don't even think of touching me," Ellen told him.
"I only--" Robert started.
"Only what?" Ellen asked. "Only want to make it feel better?"
Abigail looked at Cragen. "Can we use this?"
"Let's just see where it goes," Cragen told them.
Ellen shook her head. "You bastard."
~~~~
Interrogation Room
Ellen glared at Robert, walking around the table. "You cowardly, disgusting, sick bastard."
"Ellie, honey, sweetie-pie--" Robert started.
"Shut up," Ellen told him. "Is that what you call your new one? Your little 'sweetie-pie'? 'Give Daddy a taste of that sweet pie'? Is that what you think you'll do?"
Robert sat down on the chair. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"No?" Ellen asked. "You killed Susie, how's that? You killed her."
"Listen, I talked to the police," Robert told her.
~~~~
Room
Abigail, Elliot, Olivia, Frank and Cragen were watching them through the window.
"And I wasn't anywhere near the city on that night," Robert told her.
"Not that night," Ellen told him.
~~~~
Interrogation Room
Ellen shook her head. "Not the other night."
Robert chuckled softly. "Ellie, I think you're making a rather costly mistake."
Ellen chuckled bitterly. "The trust fund, is that what you're threatening me with? Daddy..." She sat down on another chair, looking at him. "Stick it up your ass. You know what Susie called it? 'Blood money' from the first time she bled when you held her down."
Robert held a hand up. "Okay."
Ellen ignored him. "Just like you held me down."
"All right, that's enough," Robert told her. "It's ancient history. Just let it rest."
Ellen smirked. "I got news for you, Daddy. It's not ancient history. That woman detective you met? I met her, too. She convinced me to stay, and guess what? She says that if I remember things now, a judge in New Jersey will tell my story to a grand jury."
Robert looked at her nervously. "Okay, listen, honey, please... I've got a new family."
"I know," Ellen told him. "That's why it's all come back up, just as if it happened yesterday... which is how it feels to me every day of my life."
Ellen had tears in her eyes, standing up, turning around. She pulled out a letter, turning to Robert.
"What is that?" Robert asked.
Ellen looked at him. "My sister wrote this. She mailed it to Denver, and my husband, whom you'll never meet, faxed it to me here. Would you like me to read it?"
Robert shrugged slightly, shaking his head in confusion. "No, what good would it do?"
Ellen raised her voice. "Do me some good!" She calmed down, looking from the letter to Robert. "And Susie." Ellen looked at the letter. "'Gretchen Quinn... born Susan Sidarsky... a frequent contributor to the 'New York Ledger', committed suicide Monday night.'"
Robert looked at her.
~~~~
Room
Abigail, Elliot, Olivia, Frank and Cragen were watching them through the window.
Ellen was reading from the letter. "'She hopes her death will point an accusing finger at the men responsible. In the end, nothing appealed to Ms. Quinn... no food, book or person.'"
~~~~
Interrogation Room
"'She couldn't stand the sound of her thoughts or the touch of her own skin'," Ellen read.
"What is this?" Robert asked.
Ellen looked at him. "Susie's obituary. She wrote it herself." She walked closer to Robert as she continued to read. "'She is survived..." She chuckled softly, looking at Robert, letting a tear fell down her cheek. "By her ex-boyfriend, Dallas Warner, who was perfect... except for the wife and four kids; by Dr. Mark Daniels, the therapist, who knew her inside and out, literally and biblically, and last but not least, Robert Sidarsky... her father'."
Ellen pushed the letter into Robert's face in anger.
"Look, come on," Robert told her.
"'Her father'," Ellen told him, grabbing Robert by his collar.
"That's enough," Robert told her. "Please."
"'Who took away her childhood, her virginity,'" Ellen told him.
"Please, don't," Robert told her.
Ellen ignored him. "Her sense of safety and fairness in the world..."
"Ellie," Robert told her.
Ellen ignored him. "'Cause of death was from a fall, self-inflicted'." She sobbed. "She was 32."
~~~~
Room
Abigail, Elliot, Olivia, Frank and Cragen were watching them through the window.
Ellen cried. "She was... 32." Abigail looked away. "She was 32."
Abigail had tears in her eyes, closing her eyes for a moment, opening them.