SAVING GRACES

They shared a cab to the SVU Squad Room. Bobby winced as he slid in its back seat. “Nothing,” he responded to Alex and Olivia’s concerned looks. “I’m just too old to treat my body the way I did last night.” But both women noted Bobby moved stiffly and frequently shifted positions during the drive. He awkwardly got out of the cab. “My knee,” he admitted as they walked into the building. “I bruised it during Bertelli’s interview and banged it again going out the window. But it’s just a bad bruise. The doctors said so…”



“They also told you to take it easy,” Alex said.



“And didn’t think you’d insist on coming in to work today,” Olivia added.



“Please,” Bobby pleaded. “We’re close…I’m sure…I just need to get through until the end of the case…You both can understand that…”



“Yea,” Alex said. “But that won’t keep us from worrying about you.”



“I…I appreciate it…but…” Bobby ran a hand through his hair and winced. “But,” he explained. “Please…you’re the…the two most important people in my life…I…I need…I need your support.” He stared shyly at the floor.



Olivia didn’t know Bobby as well as Alex, but she recognized the great concession he’d just made. Alex, who did know him, was stunned.



“You have that,” Olivia said gently.



Cragen met them at the office entrance. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here,” he said with a mixture of frustration and admiration. “Especially you, Goren.”



Bobby stared at his feet.



“I could order you home,” Cragen said.



Bobby’s head shot up; fear flashed in his eyes.



“But I doubt you’d get any rest,” the Captain continued. “And after all you’ve done in this case, it wouldn’t be fair.” Cragen nodded towards the interrogation rooms. “Veneer’s in Room 2. He doesn’t want a lawyer, but he’s not saying much. He admits knowing Bertelli—he could hardly deny it, when we’ve got photos of them together—but he claims they just know each other from the baseball leagues.”



Huang and Munch stood outside the interrogation room.



“So,” Munch said. “Have a good time last night?”



“Nothing like nearly getting fried to a crisp,” Alex replied.



Bobby moved next to Huang. “You ok?” the psychiatrist asked.



“Been better,” Bobby admitted. “Been worse.” He looked inside the room. “What’s Veneer like?”



“Charming, intelligent, and almost completely amoral. A predator. One that thinks the children are seducing him. But not a killer. Not without Bertelli’s influence.”



“You’ve learned that pretty quickly,” Alex said.



“Stabler and Fin have done a good job,” Huang answered. “But Veneer’s smooth…He hasn’t admitted to anything.”



“Should I go in?” Bobby asked.



“You seem to be the master in there,” Munch said.



“Yea,” Bobby muttered. “What a thing to be good at.” He walked into the room.”



Bobby’s appearance was a happy surprise to Stabler and Fin. Veneer maintained his charming exterior. Fin, responding to a silent agreement among the detectives, rose and left the room.



“Goren ok?” he asked as he joined the group outside the interrogation room.



“He thinks so,” Alex said.



Inside the room, Bobby sat quietly at Stabler’s side, letting the SVU detective take the lead. Veneer eyed him with increasing nervousness. Bobby finally leaned forward.



“He told you about me, right?”



“Who…who told me what?” Veneer asked.



“And I’m not what he told you I was,” Bobby continued.



“I…I don’t know…”



“Oh, c’mon…” Bobby leaned back in his chair. “Bertelli…before he tried to burn us and the evidence up…He ran right to you…”



Veneer tried to maintain a nonchalant attitude, but he looked nervously to Stabler.



“Look,” Bobby said, leaning forward again. “I’ve got nothing against you…You’re not a hypocrite like Bertelli…You seem to be a good guy…But I need to tell you…Bertelli is in a lot of trouble…”



“He’s a cop,” Veneer said quickly. “You’ll protect him…”



“Not from this,” Stabler said. He was happy to play bad cop to Bobby’s good. “We’ve got dead kids. It’s going to take a while to identify them, but we will. They were found at your family’s property. You’re linked to them. You have a record.” His voice was as cold as his icy blue eyes.



Veneer turned to Bobby.



“Greg…Do you mind if I call you Greg? Or is it Gregory?”



“Greg…is just fine…”



“Look…I don’t know what Bertelli told you…Probably something about how sloppy and careless we are and that we weren’t smart enough to connect you to anything…But you’re smart…We can see that. You can see that we’re organized. We found you. We found your connections with the kids and Bertelli. You probably know that we played him. What did he tell you about his interview?” Bobby leaned closer to Veneer. “That he was in control? He wasn’t. He ran out of here like a scared rabbit.”



“Yes,” Stabler agreed. “Led us right to you. Then ran out of here like a scared kid. The kind you like so much.”



Veneer again turned for comfort from Bobby. “I…Bertelli…and me…we…uh…we’re sorta friends…”



“So you’re friends now,” Bobby said. “I don’t see him here to help you, Greg…I’m afraid he’s left you dangling on the end of the rope.”



“Let’s just send this guy to Riker’s,” Stabler said with disgust. “And let the guards and animals know how he likes to rape little boys…”



“No!” Veneer shouted in fear and rage. “I…I never…You don’t understand…John understands.”



Bobby looked at Veneer with great curiosity. “What does John understand, Greg? That it’s not you…That it’s the boys…”



Veneer looked at Bobby. “Yes…yes,” he said excitedly. “That’s it. Everyone thinks that these boys are innocent…pure…But they’re not…John and I saw it…How they become corrupted…They were tempted…And they always gave in…John brought them to me…to test them…”



Veneer ignored the look that crossed between Bobby and Stabler. Rage and despair rose in the two detectives; they both had vague, horrible ideas about what those “tests” might be.



“John’s nephew, Tony…He was the first?” Bobby asked, hiding his disgust.



“Yes…I did nothing wrong,” Veneer spluttered. “He seduced me…He failed the test…”



“All of these boys…Did any of them pass the test?” Bobby asked.



“They were all evil…All corrupt…John knew,” Veneer stammered.



“Was killing them part of the “test”?” Stabler asked bitterly.



“No! They were alive…All of them were alive when I left them.” Veneer again turned to Bobby for support, but the good cop had completely disappeared. Veneer shrank back in his chair.



“What kind of test requires a child to be bound and gagged,” Bobby asked coldly. “How could they seduce you when they were terrified and tortured?”



“No! No!” Veneer cried. He leaped from his chair and backed up against the wall.



“Bertelli brought you these boys…These troubled, confused boys,” Bobby declared. “And then you tortured and raped and murdered them.”



“No…no…” Veneer appeared to be trying to claw through the concrete wall. “All of them…They were alive when I left them with John…I swear…”



“Where?” Stabler asked. “Where did you leave them?”



Veneer was a trapped rat; his eyes darted around the room. “This…this won’t last in court…My lawyer…”



“You told us you didn’t want a lawyer, remember?” Stabler said.



“But that’s what John told you to do, wasn’t it?” Bobby was eerily calm. “To not ask for a lawyer…to cooperate…”



A confused Veneer stared at Bobby as he desperately tried to sense which cop he faced.



“But he would tell you that, wouldn’t he? So that you’d make mistakes…Tell us things…and leave us with you…” Bobby again leaned back in his chair and gestured for Veneer to sit down. Looking warily at Stabler, Veneer sat uneasily. “He’s setting you up, Greg.”



“And for a cop like him…with his mind…He’s done a good job,” Stabler said. “But not us. We’re better…smarter than that…We can see what he’s done.”



“We know you’re not the only person involved in this…I tend to believe you…that the boys were alive when you left them with John,” Bobby said. “But we have a lot of bodies…a lot of missing boys…It’d be easy to blame you for all of it…and all of them.”



Veneer stared at his hands for a moment. “I…I met him…at first…in the baseball leagues…At the place where the fire was…That was the first place we took them…” He swallowed. “The last few years…” Veneer looked up at Bobby and gave him an address. Bobby and Stabler rose from their chairs, and Stabler rushed out of the room.



“This boy,” Bobby said quietly. He placed a photo of Michael Flynn on the table.



Veneer couldn’t hide his hunger and regret as he looked at the photo. “He…he’s there…We haven’t tested him yet…We haven’t prepared him completely…”



“Prepare?” Bobby asked. His elation at learning Michael was alive was tempered by Veneer’s ominous words.



Defeated, Veneer stared at the photo. “We…we get the kids to trust us…Tell them we can take care of them…Give them more fun…Get back at their parents…”



The detectives found themselves in a scene eerily similar to the one of several hours earlier. This time, Bobby and Alex shared the SUV with Elliott and Olivia.



“You think he’s still alive?” Olivia asked anxiously.



Bobby, a lump in the back seat, stared out the window. “I…I think we can hope…I don’t think Bertelli would kill him before his “test”…”



“Look,” Alex said from the seat next to him. “Even you can’t predict everything.”



“Yea,” Elliott said from the driver’s seat. “But you were great in the interrogation…You broke Veneer very fast…”



“You…more than half of it was you,” Bobby said. “You picked up on what we needed to do.”



“You think Bertelli will be there?” Olivia asked.



“I hope so…if he is there…We may have a hostage situation.” Bobby shifted uncomfortably.



“Ok?” Alex asked.



Bobby smiled wearily. “My back itches, my knee hurts, and I need some sleep. Other than that, I’m in great shape.”



“You hands?” Alex felt some relief that Bobby acknowledged his body had some limits.



“Uh…” Bobby glanced at his bandaged hands. “They itch a little…They’re mostly an annoyance. I’m not going to be able to hold a gun very well.”



“Right,” Elliott said. “We don’t want you using your gun.”



“You never want him to use his gun,” Alex said dryly. “Bobby’s a great detective, but he’ll never win a marksmanship contest.”



“Yea…passing the weapons requirements is always a challenge. My partner, on the other hand…” He looked admiringly at Alex.



“There.” Olivia pointed at a decrepit building on the right.



“Great,” Elliott said. “Looks like a rabbit hole.”



It was smaller than the warehouse. The building stood by itself in the middle of several destroyed structures. The Veneer family was apparently making a tidy profit out of turning the area into apartments and shops. The battered five story building was the last scheduled for destruction, and the project’s manager was not happy to learn his work might be delayed by a criminal investigation. Even Cragen’s attempts to reason with him failed until a weary Bobby pulled out several photos of the missing boys and waved them in front of the man. “The hell with the Veneers and their precious schedule,” the man said. “I’ve got two boys of my own.” The manager provided the police with a sketchy map of the interior, and the detectives, encased in protective vests, followed the assault team into the dark building.



The only way in was through the basement. The entry was once a garage, and inside the group discovered a Westchester County police car.



“Bertelli,” Elliott whispered.



“He wouldn’t go far from his car,” Bobby answered.



“Detectives,” one of the other cops said shakily. “You need to see this…”



The team had managed to break down a heavily barred door. The open door revealed several packages heavily wrapped with plastic; the sharp, heavy smell of lime reeked in the room.



“Oh, Damn,” Alex said.



“They’re here,” Olivia said sadly. “The boys…”



“Quiet,” Bobby said sharply. “Listen…”



There were muffled voices and steps over their heads.



“Upstairs!” Bobby shouted and grabbed the map. There were two staircases; Bobby and Alex followed several members of the assault squad up one, while Olivia and Elliot followed others up the stairs on the other side.



The building’s first floor was one large, open room. Religious statues and paintings filled the room and lined the walls. Two large bookshelves leaned against one of the walls. Bobby head straight for these; Olivia, Alex, and Elliott searched the room with the other cops.



“Bertelli,” Bobby said as he ran a finger over the books’ spines. “This is his domain…His place…He’s got some religious mania…”



“I’m Catholic,” Elliott said, very puzzled and slightly defensive. “And I don’t recognize most of these paintings and books…”



“It’s obscure, fringe stuff…not recognized by the Church…Or any branch or related faith. It’s not Catholic. It’s Bertelli’s own delusional beliefs,” Bobby said tensely.



Alex started at Bobby’s use of the word “delusional”; it was not one he casually tossed out.



Bobby looked up at the ceiling. “He’s going up,” he declared. “Get your guys on the roof,” he said to the squad’s commander. “And make sure the ones watching the car are on their guard. We’ll check the floors.”



The next floor was abandoned and empty; only spiders greeted the detectives. Olivia and Elliott, approaching from one side, found the door to the third floor locked to them. “We’ve got a locked door,” Olivia reported by radio to Alex.



“We’ve got an unlocked one,” Alex said.



“Be careful.”



Bobby stood, his right hand on the knob and his left awkwardly holding his gun. “Ready?” he whispered. Alex nodded and held her gun steady.



Olivia’s heart pounded so wildly that she thought everyone in the building must hear it. “Please,” she thought. “Don’t let him get hurt. Please…” Elliott waited tensely at her side. Seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness. They heard soft murmurs, followed by quick footsteps. The lock tumbled and clicked, and the doorknob turned with a terrible squawk.



“Hey!” Alex called through the door. “Can you guys pull while we push on this?”



The door sprang open under their combined efforts. Olivia and Elliott blinked in the dim light.



“This,” Bobby said grimly and sadly. “Is where they performed their “tests”.”



The SVU detectives couldn’t quite make out all the details of the room; what they could see made them grateful for that fact.



“I suppose,” Alex said in a voice filled with shock and sorrow. “You guys have to deal with this sort of thing a lot.”



“Yea,” Olivia said, looking around the room. “But you never get used to it.”



“If you do, you need to get out,” Stabler said. “Oh, God, these poor kids…”



The muscles in Bobby’s neck and jaw pulsed. He was so angry he couldn’t trust his voice. He shivered.



“Bobby…You ok?” Alex moved behind him.



“No…no I’m not,” he said through clenched teeth. “I’m tired and I’m hurt and I’m angry…” With great effort, he calmed. “Sorry…sorry…”



“Goren…no one will blame you if you need to back off,” Elliott said quietly. “You’ve performed miracles…”



“Thank you…but…I want…need to follow this through,” Bobby said, his rage under control.



“Promise me we can sleep for a week after this,” Alex said.



“Deal,” Bobby said.



Olivia’s radio crackled. “Bertelli’s on the roof,” she reported to the other detectives. “He’s got Michael Flynn…And he’s screaming for you.” She looked at Bobby.



“This guy is very angry,” the assault squad commander said. “And we can’t get a fix on his location. There’s a lot of broken down brick work up here…He could be behind any of it…We’re calling in a chopper, but I don’t know if that’ll help. He says he’s got a knife at the kid’s throat and a gun.”



“Did you see the kid?” Bobby asked. He tried to peer around the roof’s crumbling chimneys and walls, but couldn’t see Bertelli or Michael.



“One of my guys got a glimpse…Said he looked loopy…Like he’d been drugged…” the commander said. “Look, Detective…you know the drill…Try to get him out in the open.”



“Easier said than done,” Bobby said. “This guy’s thinking is limited, but he’s not stupid. A bully and a coward, but not stupid.”



“Bobby…Please…Be careful,” Alex said.



Standing next to Elliott, Olivia fought the impulse to rush up to Bobby and wrap her arms around him.



Bobby took a deep breath. He looked over his shoulder and met Olivia’s eyes.



“Please,” she thought. “Come back…I care about you…I care for you…Please…I want to show you…”



He gave her a quick sad smile and stepped out from the landing.



“Stop there!” Bertelli shouted. “Stop there or I’ll slit his throat before I shoot you!”



Bobby stopped; he couldn’t see where Bertelli was.



“Bertelli,” he called. “C’mon…We can…”



“Shut up!” Bobby saw a flicker of movement in the shadows of one of the crumbling chimneys. “Take off that vest!”



Bobby quickly slid off the vest and dropped it. At this close range it offered little protection and only hampered his movement.



“What’s on your hands?” Bertelli yelled.



Bobby raised them. “Bandages.”



“You walked right into that, didn’t you?” Bertelli gloated. “Smart, big city cop. Big hero. I’ve seen your name in the papers.”



Bobby struggled to control his emotions. “The fire, John…”



“Captain!” Bertelli screamed. “You show me respect!”



“Captain,” Bobby said calmly. He moved closer to the shadow. “The fire didn’t destroy everything…We found the bodies…the uniforms.”



There was a long silence. Bobby heard the hot summer wind, the distant traffic, the far off whipping of a helicopter’s blades.



“We’ve talked to Greg. That’s how we found about this place.”



A muffled cry came from the shadow, and Bobby saw the glint of a knife.



“Shut up, you evil…” Bertelli muttered.



Bobby inched closer; he could see Bertelli now, huddled against the brick and holding a knife to Michael Flynn’s throat. The disheveled and dazed boy was fighting his way out of a fog.



“Look at me,” Bobby thought. “Look at me and know that I’ll get you out of this.”



“Stop!” Bertelli screamed. “Come any closer and I’ll kill him!”



Bobby stopped. The hot sun beat mercilessly on him, and a terrible thirst seized him. Sweat trickled down his face, and it made his burned back itch. His knee throbbed painfully, and exhaustion pulled at his mind. “Please,” he begged his body. “Just a little more…Give me just a little more…I’ll let you rest…”



Michael struggled feebly; Bertelli strengthened his grip. “Be quiet, you evil…”



“Captain,” Bobby said as if he were about to ask for help with a form. “How do you know he’s evil?”



Bertelli’s head moved.



“Greg told us that you hadn’t tested him yet,” Bobby said.



“We…we haven’t had the chance,” Bertelli answered. “But he’s just like the others…He’ll fail…He’ll let…I see it in him…He won’t be able to avoid temptation…”



“I don’t understand, Sir,” Bobby said respectfully. “The test…If the boys were drugged…If they were restrained…How could they make a decision?”



“They…they should fight…They shouldn’t take the drugs…Greg…Greg said they all took the drugs.” There was a desperate edge to Bertelli’s voice.



Bobby moved stealthily closer; he could clearly see Michael Flynn’s eyes. The dazed look was nearly gone, replaced by a terrible fear. Bobby’s eyes met the boy’s, and he willed Michael to trust him.



“Sir, did you ever see what happened between the boys and Greg? Do you know that they willingly took the drugs?” Bobby’s retained its calm, gentle tone. He moved closer to Bertelli and Michael. He could see Bertelli clearly now. His uniform was torn and stained, his tie and hat missing.



“Greg…Greg told me…” Doubt entered Bertelli’s voice.



“Sir, I don’t think you should trust Greg. He’s betrayed you already…I know you were trying to save the boys…But he betrayed you and them…He used you.” Bobby was close enough to reach out and touch Michael. “Don’t rush,” he thought. “Don’t move too soon…Just concentrate on getting the boy out of this…”



“No…No…” Bertelli muttered. “I…I’m the savior…I’m saving these boys from hell.”



“Sir…Are you saving them? Really?”



“Yes!...Yes! I’m keeping them from sin!”



Bobby sensed the man slipping away. It was time. “But, Sir, you said that they all gave in to temptation…So, when they died, they weren’t in a state of grace…They had a sin…a mortal sin…on their souls…They didn’t have a chance to confess…They didn’t receive the Last Rites…They didn’t get a Christian burial.” Bobby met Bertelli’s eyes. “You condemned them to hell.”



“No! No!” Bertelli screamed. For the briefest of moments, he released his grip on Michael.



Bobby grabbed Michael and spun so that his large bulk shielded the boy. Enraged, Bertelli struck out with the knife. Stabler and Fin rushed forward. They had their guns drawn, but had no clear shot. Dodging Bertelli’s wildly flailing arm, they seized him and threw him to the ground.



“Run!” Bobby gasped to Michael. “Run to those detectives!” He pointed to Olivia and Alex. “They’ll help you!”



Michael flew away from Bobby and to Olivia and Alex.



Bertelli screamed and cursed, most of the latter directed at Bobby.



Bobby wavered, stumbled and fell heavily to his knees.



“Bobby!” Alex and Olivia screamed.



Their voices clawed at the darkness surrounding him. Bobby stared at his hands; bright, crimson spotted the white bandages. He stared at his chest, where a scarlet plume grew on his white shirt. He pitched forward on to the hot roof.



END Chapter Ten