Part 1 of?
Warnings: Sexual references, violence and possible death. Some racial and /or religious slurs might be used for reality purposes only. Please do not be offended by these. These stories have no bearing on the author's racial, political or religious beliefs or feelings and should not be taken seriously. If you are easily offended by vulgarity, racial tension, religious references, political issues, rape, violence, murder, crime, sexual assault, battery, or related subject matter, please refrain from reading the following story.
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John Munch leaned against his desk reading the New York Times, occassionally he smirked and commented under his breath about some unexplained article and his partner Odefin 'Fin' Tutuola glared at him from across the office.
"Has it occured to you that your not the only one here?" Fin asked snidely as he fingered through the pages of a cold case tossed on his desk just moments earlier.
"Hangover?" Munch replied, not looking up from his paper.
"What the hell is this?" Fin pointed the file at Munch who shrugged and took a sip of his white tea.
"Looks like unfinished work to me." he grumbled as he circled his desk and sat down. "I finish all mine, so I wouldn't know."
Fin eyed him briefly, but before he could respond Donald Cragen stepped into the office and slammed a copy of the same file on his own desk.
"Ok, listen up!" He reported, retrieving the attention of everyone in the room. "On your desk is a cold case file. To some of you it might look familiar. The perp's name is John Bishop. He was accussed of drugging his ex-wife's sister, sexually molesting her and beating her to death with a tire iron. Unfortunately the bastard escaped from custody before he could stand trial and has been on the lam every since. Until now.
We just got a call from a local residence where a woman claims she was raped and beaten. When we questioned her about who did it, she could not remember...said she met a couple of friends for drinks, the friends left early...she stayed...she was approached later by a man, she thinks his name was John. She said he asked her to dance then bought her a drink. After that she vaguely recalls him driving her home...she was sick and vomiting and she blacked out. When she awoke, she was on the bathroom floor...naked...and there was blood everywhere. Her blood. She called 911 immediately and gave them the story. "
Elliot Stabler had walked in just moments earlier and had caught the report. "So how do we believe it's our same bang and beat guy?"
"The woman claims her door was left standing open by the perp and when she was able to dress herself, she went out to close the door, but before she could close it, she noticed something on the ground by the bushes outside. A bloody tire iron."
"Sounds like the same m.o. to me," Fin said. "She take the weapon inside?"
"No, she left it alone. Said she was affraid to go out."
"Good." Stabler responded. "Maybe we can pull some prints to compare with b&b #1...if b&b #2's are the same we will have no problem bringing him in for the first crime, even before we can charge him with the second."
"Good...Stabler, I want you and Benson on the case. Talk to the vic, see what you can get out of her, check out the bar where she met this guy. Grill the friends for any info they might have. Fin, Munch..."
"I know," Munch said, finishing his tea. "Door to door."
"You know the drill." Cragen nodded. "Let's put this asshole away!"
Home of Elizabeth Scarborough
Olivia Benson's heeled boots clomped across the pavement as she crossed the sidewalk and up through the well kept yard of Elizabeth Scarborough, the 31 year old wife of a Navy fighter pilot.
The house was grey brick with maroon trim around the doors and shutters. Your typical ranch-style abode with post modern trim and custom windows. From the outside, it could have been the home of any upper middle class suburban family, but inside, it was the scene of a heinous crime.
When Stabler walked up the path behind her, Olivia eyed him and he nodded. She knocked on the door.
The sound of a deadbolt turning could be heard on the opposite side of the heavy wooden door and through the stained glass that centered it, a woman's shadowed figure was seen. But she was not unlocking the door for the detectives, quite the contrary. She was affraid.
"Elizabeth Scarborough, this is Detective Olivia Benson and with me is my partner, Detective Elliot Stabler. We are here to talk to you about what happened to you this morning." Benson's soft tone was welcoming, and slowly the bolts unfastened and the woman's face shown in the doorway beneath a locked chain.
"Show me your credentials." Mrs. Scarborough said.
Both detectives did as the woman asked and held their badges out so that she could see.
"Ok." The door was unlocked. "Come in." Mrs. Scarborough said quietly and the two detectives crossed the threshold into an immaculate sitting room. The tv screen was aglow but no sound was playing and Elliot noticed that the telephone was off the hook.
"This is where is happened." Elizabeth said, leading them down a long hall to a large bathroom.
There was a long counter with double sinks. Deoderant, purfume, a still packed overnight bag, a recently used towel and lady's lingerie were scattered about. The shower curtain was thrown back, revealing a large, oval shaped bathtub surrounded by candles and several different kinds of scented oils and lotions. But no sign of a man.
"Mrs. Scarborough," Olivia asked curiously, "Where is your husband?"
"We have been separated for almost six months. He had been seeing another woman and I asked him to leave. I assume he is living with her. I haven't heard from him since he left."
Olivia looked down at the floor and noticed traces of red between the tiles. "You mentioned in your report that there was alot of blood. Did you clean up the blood?"
"Yes. there was so much blood, I could hardly believe it was all mine. The sight of it made me sick so I wiped it up with some towels."
She motioned to a pile of towels in a hamper in the corner and Stabler took a pair of rubber gloves from his pocket and put them on. "We will need to take these towels with us, Mrs. Scarborough." he said, "There might be evidence of who hurt you on them."
"Tell us about last night." Olivia said, "You mentioned you were at a bar with some friends. Is that correct?"
"Yes. Marcie Cole and Jennifer Blaylock. We got there around ten o' clock and had a few drinks. Around midnight, Marcie said she needed to get home and grade papers...she's a teacher...so Jennifer offered to give her a ride and I said I would see them later."
"And why did you decide to stay?" Olivia asked
"I was just feeling kind of depressed I guess. I thought I would stay and have a couple more drinks and take a cab home. It was still early...to me, anyway."
"Then what happened?"
"Well that's when this guy walked up and asked if I needed some company. I told him no so he went back and sat at the bar. Then he had a drink sent over to me and when I smiled he came back over to my table and asked me to dance. I did. Before the song was over I started feeling really lightheaded...like I was really drunk...only I hadn't had very much to drink. Then I felt like I had to throw up, so I went to the bathroom."
"And did you throw up?"
"Yeah...alot. I was really sick and I knew I needed to go home so he suggested he take me home and by that time I couldn't think straight enough to care so I got into his car. I know I shouldn't have...but I did."
"It's ok, Elizabeth. What do you remember after that?"
"I blacked out, I guess. I went to sleep or something, but when I woke up I was in here on the floor and my clothes were gone. There was so much blood." Elizabeth began to cry. "Oh my God! There was so much blood!"
Stabler excused himself to check out the other rooms while Olivia console the woman. "Where were you bleeding?"
"I have a gash in my head. Maybe that's why I blacked out. Maybe that's why I don't remember anything."
"Ok, Elizabeth, I need you to relax for a minute and think for me." Olivia said softly. "Do you think you were raped?"
"Yessss." Olivia cried out. "I think he did. I think the son-of-a-bitch raped me."
"Elizabeth, we're going to need to to come with us down town to do a rape kit. It's just a routine procedure. It wont hurt and it wont take long, but we need to do it so we might be able to find who did this to you."
"I know you are, sweetie." Olivia consoled. "But you want to catch him don't you?
"Then you've got to work with us."
"Olivia!" Stabler interrupted.
Olivia excused herself and followed Elliot outside. "What have you got?"
"I've got the tire iron. But come here and look at this. I found her bloody clothes stuffed in a bag behind this dumpster in the alley.
Why would he leave the weapon in plain sight but take the time to hide her clothes?