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Let The Crime Fit The Punishment	By : SisterWine Category: G through L > Law & Order Views: 3517 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Olivia Benson, Fin Tutuola, John Munch, Capt. Cragen, Nick Amaro and Dr. Melinda Warner are all characters of Law & Order: SVU. These characters belong to series creator Dick Wolf. I make no claim to either the show or to the chara

Chapter List
- 1-Let The Crime Fit The Punishment
- 2-Chapter Two
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- 2
FULL DISCLAIMER: Olivia Benson, Fin Tutuola, John Munch, Capt. Cragen, Nick Amaro and Dr. Melinda Warner are all characters of Law & Order: SVU. These characters belong to series creator Dick Wolf. I make no claim to either the show or to the characters. sisterwine75@hotmail.com. Matthew, Daniel, Emma and Edward Foster, Corrine Bradley and other miscellaneous characters belong to me. This story is fiction. I make no money from it. I do not buy, trade, sell or even take requests. For entertainment use only!

Corrine Bradley waited for the doors to the elevator to open before stepping out and looking both ways down the corridor of the precinct. Looking left, she noticed a few plain clothes detectives as well as uniformed officers shuffling people in handcuffs around, getting witness statements and talking about miscellaneous cases. She stepped forward and cautiously walked into the squadroom but stopped in the doorway. She surveyed the room and looked for a detective that wasn't too busy to ask. Spotting Detective Olivia Benson, Corrine stepped forward and cleared her throat. "Excuse me."

Olivia stood next to Detective Munch's desk, sifting through a brown file folder with another case's information but stopped when she heard the young woman's voice amid the hectic room. "Can I help you?" Olivia smiled pleasantly and tried to calm the young woman who appeared somewhat shaken.

Out of nervousness, Corrine clutched her tan sweater at the collar and took a step forward. "I think I need to talk to someone about my friend. I think he was raped."

Closing the folder and placing it down on Munch's paper-strewn desk, Olivia looked around the squadroom and found an empty corner/file room where they could talk more in private. She lead Corrine into the small file space and offered her a chair. "Okay, you said your friend might have been raped."

"Yes. His name is Matthew and he lives across the hall from me." Corrine sat down but kept her eyes on Olivia as the tough, female detective came around to sit down, across from her.

"How old is Matthew?" Olivia had several questions for her but knew that Matthew had to be the one to come forward with the accusation before she could do anything.

Corrine thought for a moment. "I think he is around my age, maybe older? So, in his twenties? I know he should have come with me but I can't even get him to go to the hospital and I think he'd freak out if I asked him to come here." She could feel herself becoming more frantic than she really should have been but tried to calm herself down by reminding herself that she was doing the right thing in trying to help her neighbour and friend.

"Why do you think he was raped? Did he say anything to you? Did you see what happened?" Olivia had grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, after ushering Corrine into the room, and began writing down notes even if they lead to her turning the woman away. She studied Corrine's features and mannerisms and tried to determine if this was the truth or a lie. She had seen nearly every sort of cover up victims would use to try and clean their consciences but there was always a possibility for something new.

Corrine shook her head. "Nothing like that. Yesterday morning, I was getting ready to leave for class. I take a few classes at CUNY. Anyway, um, I was opening my door to leave when Matt came home. His clothes were dirty and he looked pretty beat up. The inside of his pantleg was covered in blood. When I asked him if he was alright, he acted really freaked out. I went over to check on him but he was asleep. I know this sounds like crap but, I think something happened to him."

Olivia wrote down what Corrine had said and circled Matthew's name. "Most victims, when something this bad happens, get scared and it can be a very terrifying experience to open up to the police about it. Men have a harder time dealing with this kind of assault." When she looked up, after finishing writing, she caught a glance of Corrine's fear for Matthew. "Look,--"

"Corrine. Corrine Bradley."

"Corrine. I understand your concern for him but, he needs to be the one to come and make a statement. Does he know his attacker? Did he see anything that can help prove his case? It's details like that that can help us move forward." Olivia put her pen down and leaned forward, across the table. Her voice was calm and soft.

Sighing and biting her bottom lip out of nervousness, Corrine weighed the options of divulging more about Matthew than she should have. "Look, I don't know that much about him but I know that an officer comes over every other week and checks on him but the guy has like major authority issues. He kicks in the door, tosses stuff around, messes up Matt's apartment. That's on a good day. So, I don't think I'd be able to get him down here to make a statement. I know something happened to him and I can't force him but, he doesn't have anyone else." She brushed a stray lock of hair back, behind her right ear and waited for Olivia to process what she had said.

Olivia was confused. "This man that checks on Matthew, he's a uniformed officer?"

Corrine shook her head and took a deep breath. "No, he wears his own clothes but he has this badge on his belt. I know Matt was in trouble a few years ago but never said what he did. He's a sweet guy and whatever he did, he did his time. No one should be a victim of this kind of Hell."

Sitting back, Olivia seriously considered looking into Matthew and his past before getting too deeply involved. However, if he was an innocent victim, she had an obligation to make sure he was not overlooked.
Matthew Foster

5428 East 9th Ave.

Apartment 19C, Greenwich
Detective Fin Tutuola knocked on the door and waited for the door to open. Movement had come from inside, close to the door but he couldn't tell what was being moved. When the door opened, he and Olivia held up their badges and introduced themselves to the disheveled young man that peered warily at them from a crack in the door. "Matthew Foster? Detectives Tutuola and Benson. May we talk to you a minute?"

Matthew opened the door wider and reluctantly let them in. His apartment had been obviously trashed from his parole officer being there just days before. "I haven't done anything. I promised I won't tell anyone." He backed up as they entered and shut the door behind them. Limping and supporting his left arm with his right, Matthew managed to slowly cross the room to the faded brown sofa and sat back down, watching both detectives carefully. His shoulder-length brown hair had been mussed from sleep and his clothes wrinkles, indicating that he had changed the day before.

"Promised you wouldn't tell what, Matthew? Your neighbour was worried about you and asked us to come and talk to you." Olivia stepped forward and visually examined the young man painfully sitting at the far end of the sofa. "Were you attacked?" The sun had beamed through the thin white bedsheet that had been used as a curtain, giving her both shade so she didn't have to squint to see him and keeping it light enough so that she could see the fresh bruises on his face and arms.

Looking from Fin, who took the opportunity to look around the barely furnished apartment, to Olivia, Matthew thought carefully about answering. As another pang of pain from his ribs struck, he decided his answer. "Look, I get it. What I did was wrong. I haven't done anything to anybody since I got out. Please just leave me alone!" Averting his eyes and breathing hard but trying to keep it from being too noticeable, Matthew swallowed as another shot of pain surged through his right side.

Fin had walked around to the tall, honey-wood entertainment center and looked at the objects on the shelves. "You got busted for raping a little girl back in '06, got out last year." He went back to looking at the things on the shelves but stopped as his eyes came across an old Polaroid of three children, sitting on a park bench at the zoo.

"I did my time. Please just leave me alone." Matthew eyed what Fin was doing but glanced back at Olivia to make sure she kept her distance.

Olivia came to sit down on the other end of the sofa and took a closer look at Matthew's left arm. "We aren't here to arrest you. Your neighbour, Corrine, was worried about you. She said you might have been raped, yesterday. We're officers from Special Victims Unit. Would you tell us what happened?"

"I know who you are. And, nothing happened. Please just go away!" Matthew had tried to stand up to walk to the door but another shot of pain had stopped him and began to make him physically ill.

Fin turned, still holding the photo. "Your P.O. know you have this?"

A groan. "Yes."

"He doesn't take it?"

"No. It's a personal photo of me and my brother and sister." Matthew closed his eyes as he shifted on the sofa and instantly regretted it.

Olivia looked concerned and moved closer. "Matthew, what happened to that little girl was dealt with. Our job is to help the victims of sexual abuse, even those who've caused it." She could tell by the expression he looked at her with that he was genuinely shocked at her concern for him.

Matthew felt ill but struggled to stay conscious until they left. "There is no help for me. You help innocent victims, not criminals." Forcing himself to stand up, Matthew took three steps towards the bedroom, beyond where Fin still stood at the entertainment center, to the left of the sofa, and collapsed onto the tan carpeting, losing consciousness in mid-fall.

Olivia darted off of the sofa and rushed over to help the unconscious young man, carefully examining him as she called it in.

"Liv," Fin had moved from the shelving unit to just inside Matthew's bedroom and noticed the pile of soiled clothing, on the floor at the end of the made up twin bed. He held up the blood-stained jeans for his partner to see before looking back down at Matthew.
Harold Davies

Parole Officer

20th Street, Manhattan
The tall, burly man maneuvered around stacks of file folders and overstuffed boxes to sit at his desk that had been buried under paperwork long ago. He had been a transplanted Texan and still lived as if he never left, oversized belt buckles, cowboy boots and old Stetson that now resided on top of a file cabinet, that had been shoved against the wall, next to the office door. "Matthew Foster is a punk kid that molests little kids. You think he doesn't know how to manipulate other people?"

Nick Amaro stood in the doorway and debated stepping into the mess of paperwork that Harold Davies called an office. Amaro concluded that it looked more like a walk-in closet with a file cabinet. "You tell me, considering he was just admitted to St. Vincent's as an assault victim. When was the last time you checked on him?"

Davies thought a moment. He sat down and leaned back in his swivel chair that had lasted, somehow, since the 80s. He was a man in his fifties but hid his age well by working out daily and taking excellent care of himself. "Uh, last week sometime."

"Find anything out of the ordinary?"

"Nope. But, that doesn't mean he doesn't have hidey-holes for his collection of kiddy porn. These sick perverts will do or say anything to point the finger away from them. If he got his up-and-comings, maybe it'll be a lesson of justice for him." Davies seemed pleased with the situation of knowing that a child molester was given his "just desserts." However, he had been curious as to what brought the SVU detective down to see him. "Did he get a little scratch and pass out? How bad are we talkin' about 'assault', here?"

Amaro stepped forward, amidst the clutter of paperwork. "Someone gave him a concussion, a few broken ribs, broken arm as well as sexual assault. He doesn't call in every week?"

"Nope. Like I said, he's a young punk that gets off raping little kids. What's Special Vics doin' holdin' his hand?" Davies seemed less interested in Matthew's assault and more interested in why SVU detectives considered him a victim.

Being that Matthew was technically a registered sex offender, Amaro was having trouble trying to stay neutral. "For the moment, he's a victim of sexual assault. Regardless of what he did to get put in your care, I'm just checking his story out. Getting sued by a sex offender doesn't look good for the city. They have rights, too." He choked on his words but not audibly. "How often does he check in?"

Davies sat forward and moved some papers around on his desk, uncovering a small computer that was used to keep track of electrical devices. It looked like a hand-held laptop but resembled more of a calculator. "He checks in every two weeks but I get notices when he goes out of his allowed zones. So far, I only have one notice that he was in the neighbourhood he was restricted from."

The notice caught Amaro's attention and he stepped forward again. "When was that?" Taking out his pen and small pad of paper, he readied himself for the information.

Davies sighed, annoyed, but checked the time and date. "Two nights ago, 1:45 AM. Stayed there for about four hours."

Amaro looked concerned. "You take that thing home with you?"

"Yea."

"You didn't get up to check on him?"

Davies narrowed his eyes at the accusation. "I have 15 of these scumbags I have to keep track of. On top of that, my wife thinks I'm hidin' out at work. But, to answer the question, I was babysittin' one of my other delinquents, on the other side of town."

Amaro was less than impressed. "So, you aren't the least bit concerned that he violated parole and could have done anything within those four hours?"

Davies glared over at Amaro. "Like I said, I was watching another jackass perv, on the other side of town. When Foster's done suckin' his thumb and gettin' sympathy for his bumps and bruises, I'll be more than happy to spank his ass and put him back in time out. Anything else I can help you with, detective?"

"That'll be just fine, thanks. Have a nice day."
~~~~~
"So, Corrine Bradley never got the notice of Matthew Foster being a convicted child rapist or, she didn't believe it. Matthew either got caught being where he wasn't supposed to or it was a random act of violence. Either way, this kid's batting a thousand if he keeps playing the 'innocent victim'. Meanwhile, thousands of kids in New York aren't gonna feel safe if we keep protecting a pedophile." Fin Tutuola stared at the clear board with Matthew's 8x10 glossy hanging up. Below, each had written down facts of what they had gathered about him.

Olivia sat on a clear spot of her desk and folded her arms. "How many pedophiles are actually remorseful about what they did? Matthew was in pain, yes but, I think he knows what right and wrong are. Uniforms searched the house and didn't find anything, no phone, no computer, not even a TV and video equipment."

Nick tapped at the taped up photo of Harold Davies. "Davies, Matthew's parole officer, mentioned that Matthew's monitor tracked him in a neighbourhood where he wasn't supposed to be. But," Nick held up a foldable map of the city with a red outline of Matthew's destinations, "he works at a meat packing place on Charles Street and lives on 9th. But, he has to go down to Perry Street and take the bus or a cab to get home, instead of just cutting through on Christopher Street, which is where his monitor caught him when he was attacked."

"And, Christopher Street is where the victim lived. If he had a set schedule, what made him change his routine on that night?" Fin stared at the map and wondered aloud.

Captain Cragen came out of his office and stopped beside Olivia's desk. "That was the hospital. Matthew's awake. Liv, you and Fin finish your talk with him, Nick, John, why not pay his parents a visit and find out why they haven't been to visit their only living son."
Continued.
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Let The Crime Fit The Punishment