SAVING GRACES

Chapter Five



The grunt work continued through the morning. Someone made a welcome run for bagels. The Chief of Detectives and George Flynn, far less welcome, appeared. A kind soul warned of both men’s arrivals, and Bobby decided he needed to shave. The other detectives only slightly begrudged him his escape. All of them wanted to do the same, and Bobby’s hard work and good coffee had created a lot of good will for him. George Huang, who arrived just before the unwanted guests, watched as Bobby ducked down the stairs.



“This isn’t just a case of avoiding the Chief and Flynn, is it?” he asked Alex.



“Part of it is,” Alex admitted. “But he’s never dealt well with the politics…or praise…He just wants to do the job well.”



“And the Brady case…” Huang’s face was a placid sea.



Alex concentrated on the reports in front of her as she considered how much she could trust George Huang.



“It wasn’t easy for anyone,” she conceded.



“You’re worried about Goren,” Huang said.



Alex continued to stare at the reports. “Yes,” she said. “I am…a little…I wish his first case back wasn’t so high profile…with so much pressure.” She chanced a look at Huang. He seemed sympathetic, and Olivia gave him an excellent report, but Alex was skeptical of psychiatrists, especially those who tried to read her and her partner. “I think he’s doing well so far.”



“His work is very impressive so far…enough that Cragen would like me to work with him to create a profile of who might be responsible for these disappearances,” Huang said. “I’m guessing everyone doesn’t think Michael Flynn was kidnapped for ransom.”



“There’s been no ransom requests…no demands…No signs that he ran away…We’ve checked with his grandparents, relatives, friends.” Alex sighed. “And he fits the profile of the boys who disappeared.”



“Could I check these files?” Huang pointed to Bobby’s desk.



“Of course,” Alex said.



After scanning the squad room for any sign of demanding brass or distraught parents, Bobby returned. Huang’s presence didn’t upset him; he welcomed the psychiatrist’s aid.



“You didn’t shave,” Alex said as she brushed by Bobby, who looked at her in confusion.



“Shave,” she said with a sad smile. “Remember?”



“Oh…that…I…I didn’t have a razor…Uh…” He rubbed a hand over his face.



“It’s ok, Bobby,” Alex said gently. “You needed the break…No one minded.”



“People.” A weary Cragen called his team together and handed out assignments. He dispatched Munch and Fin to interview Michael Flynn’s friends and teammates. Stabler and Olivia headed out to find and interview the families of some of the missing boys. Alex, with her police connections, continued searching for links with the police athletic leagues with the possibility of contacting its officials. The SVU captain allowed Bobby and Huang to continue their study of the victims and to develop a possible profile of who might be responsible for the disappearances; Cragen saw no reason to disturb what appeared to be a fruitful collaboration.



Cragen watched as Bobby and Huang returned to their work. They were an odd couple physically, almost as odd as Goren and Eames. Cragen was enormously grateful for the Major Case detectives who were more than living up to the best of their reputations. The captain saw no signs of the supposedly weird behavior Goren was legendary for. Both detectives were bending over backwards to accommodate the SVU team, and Cragen was pleased by his detectives’ reaction to the duo. Goren certainly quieted George Flynn, and likely had uncovered a series of terrible crimes. Cragen found that he liked the big detective, but Dan Ross’ warnings remained in his head. Ross praised Goren’s talent and capacity for hard work, but cautioned his fellow captain not to let Eames get too far away from Goren. And Ross reminded Cragen that Goren had just buried his mother and that the Brady case had deeply wounded the detective.



“He’s brilliant,” Ross told Cragen. “But he won’t stop. He’ll work himself to exhaustion if he’s not stopped, and he’ll go after the perps at any cost, especially to him. That’s one of the many reasons Eames is important. He listens to her, and she knows how to listen to him.”



“I have a couple of detectives like that,” Cragen said.



Cragen liked Alex Eames. He was predisposed to like her as a result of Olivia Benson’s high opinion of her, but he found he liked her more the longer he knew her. The fact that Eames was not only Goren’s partner but also his friend led Cragen to have a high opinion of Goren. Cragen watched as Goren left Huang to search for some files on Munch’s desk. He approached George Huang.



“How’s it going?” Cragen asked.



Huang, his eyes slightly red from studying reports, looked up. “I’m afraid,” he said. “Goren’s right…These disappearances are connected. The victims and the circumstances are just too much alike.”



“Michael Flynn?”



“He fits.”



Cragen nodded sadly. “What do you think of Goren?”



Huang leaned back in his chair. “Fascinating guy…terrific mind…But very guarded…And…I get the sense he’s under a lot of strain that doesn’t have anything to do with the case…I don’t want to exaggerate…He’s certainly not a danger to anyone with the possible exception of himself.



Cragen sighed. “Yes…that’s what his captain told me…”



“You like him,” Huang said.



Cragen nodded. “And Eames. They’ve been an enormous help…I think we’re capable of dealing with this case, but we certainly wouldn’t be this far.



They moved farther throughout the day. The detectives’ work gave Cragen something positive to report to the Brass. Alex made especially good progress in moving through the maze of officials of the baseball leagues.



“I anticipate a long afternoon,” she said, picking up her purse and notebook. “I’m going to talk with a lot of gung-ho cops…”



Bobby glanced up. “Want company?”



“No partner.” Alex smiled at him. “I think you might scare these guys. Besides, you’re doing great work here.”



Bobby frowned. “I don’t know about that…So much of the evidence in the early cases is lost…I wish I could talk to some of the witnesses…”



“Yes,” Huang said from a nearby desk. “The first cases…knowing about them would be a big help…”



Olivia and Stabler entered the office. “I’ll do the follow up with that detective in Brooklyn,” Stabler said.



Olivia nodded and turned to approach the other detectives. “We had a productive morning…managed to speak to a couple of the families. They’re glad someone is finally looking into the cases…They were treated as runaways…”



Bobby stared into space. “Yea…don’t want to believe that it takes a lot to make a kid runaway…”



“We’ve got an address for Anthony Genoa’s mom,” Fin announced. “But Munch and I have a date in court this afternoon…”



“I can take it,” Olivia said.



“Uh…if it’s not an intrusion…” Bobby said shyly. “Could I come along…”



“Sure,” Olivia said. “I’d welcome the help.”



“Stabler…won’t mind?”



Olivia smiled. “You don’t have to get his permission, Bobby. Do I need yours, Alex?”



“Nope,” Alex smiled. “Just bring him back in one piece.”



Bobby returned her smile, and Alex felt the familiar, reassuring connection between them. “That can be a trick sometimes,” he said wryly.



He quietly followed Olivia to her car and squeezed into the passenger seat. “Thanks for driving,” he said shyly. “I usually don’t…”



“You are an unusual guy…I have to fight Elliott for the wheel,” Olivia said.



“I…I like to think…” Bobby said.



Bobby proved those words during the trip. He intently studied the Anthony Genoa case file. In spite of Alex’s comments about Bobby’s remarkable ability to concentrate, Olivia found his intensity disconcerting. She elected to give her new companion space.



“We’re nearly there,” she commented.



Bobby blinked. “Thanks for the warning…and the quiet.” He shuffled papers into his binder. “We may not get a warm welcome…It looks like the initial investigation…It doesn’t seem to have been very thorough…”



“Wrote him off as a runaway?”



Bobby nodded. “There’s an uncle…a cop with Westchester County…” Bobby fumbled with some papers.



“Uh. Probably makes a lot more than we do,” Olivia commented.



“Eames says we get the prestige of being New York’s finest,” Bobby said.



“Yea,” Olivia said as she searched for a parking space. “I’d gladly give up some prestige for some salary.”



“Eames says that too.” He frowned. “Something…the uncle’s name…It’s familiar…”



Anthony Genoa’s mother Rosa lived in a tiny, one bedroom apartment. Her daughter Sophia opened the door to the detectives. With her dark eyes and olive complexion, she would have been a beautiful woman if not for the grey in her hair and the worn, gaunt look on her face. A small woman with grey hair giving way to white and wearing a black dress fluttered behind Sophia.



“Tony,” the older woman cried. “You have something about my Tony?”



Sophia looked at Olivia and Bobby with sad, resigned eyes. “You have something new?” She shuffled aside to let the detectives in the cramped living room.



The mother immediately clutched Bobby’s sleeve. “You found him?” she asked desperately. “Even if he’s in trouble…Please…I need to know…”



“I’m sorry, Mrs. Genoa,” Bobby said gently. “We haven’t found him…But we may have some leads on what happened to him.”



Mrs. Genoa pulled Bobby to sit next to her on the worn couch. “Sophia…Be a good girl…Get our guests some lemonade…” She turned to Bobby. “Tony loves my lemonade.”



“We’re fine, Mrs. Genoa,” Olivia said, but the woman barely registered Olivia’s presence. All of her attention was on Bobby.



“It’s no trouble,” Sophia said in a flat voice and moved to go to the kitchen.



Bobby caught Olivia’s eye. She didn’t have Alex’s psychic connection with Bobby, but it took only a moment for her to catch his message.



“I’d welcome a glass of water,” Olivia said. She followed Sophia into the kitchen.



“You don’t want to chance the lemonade,” Sophia said as she opened the refrigerator. “Even if Mom remembered to make it…” She shook an empty pitcher. “Which she didn’t.”



“Your mother’s not well,” Olivia said gently.



“Part of her died when Tony disappeared,” Sophia said flatly. “Mom is old school…Church and family…She wanted Tony to be a priest…Tap water ok?”



Olivia nodded. “Fine.”



Sophia handed Olivia a glass of water. “The other detective…He’s probably just a little older than what Tony would be…” She folded her arms and looked at Olivia. “He’s not alive…after all this time?”



“We don’t know,” Olivia said, handing the glass back to Sophia. “But…”



“There’s not much of a chance,” Sophia sighed.



“There’s a good chance,” Olivia said. “We may be able to find out what happened to him.



Sophia ran a hand through her long hair. “That would be something, I guess. I was five when Tony disappeared…Our family wasn’t perfect before then. My Dad could be a real bastard, especially when he drank…But he always worked and put food on the table…He and my Mom fought, but I think they could’ve made it if…” She looked at Olivia. “Sure you don’t want anything? You can sit, if you want.”



Olivia sat at the tiny table. “I’m fine…Thank you.”



“After Tony was gone…My parents…There wasn’t any explosion…They stopped fighting…They just…stopped. My Dad drank more and more…Spent most of his times in bars…My Mom…She’s still obsessed with Tony…Where we used to live…She kept his bedroom just like it was when he disappeared…Like it was some shrine…Even when my brother Paulie got older…He still had to sleep on the couch in the living room…She wouldn’t let him have it…It had to be kept for Tony.”



“Paulie?” Olivia asked. “He’s younger than Tony?”



Sophia nodded. “He tried…really tried…to be a good kid…to take Tony’s place…But how do you take the place of a saint? Especially when he wasn’t a saint.” She shrugged. “He helped take care of me…Really was more of a parent than my Mom and Dad…But it was too much for him…trying to be an adult…Trying to live another person’s life…”



A terrible weight settled in Olivia’s stomach.



“He was seventeen when he threw himself off a bridge,” Sophia said matter of factly. “It was the date of Tony’s disappearance.” She looked at Olivia. “You probably think I’m pretty coldblooded about all this.”



“Not necessarily,” Olivia said gently.



“I got away,” Sophia said. “I’m a nurse…and I’ve got a great husband. We live pretty close to here. I was determined that Tony’s disappearance wasn’t going to destroy everyone in my family.” A furious look crossed Sophia’s face. “My Mom didn’t talk to me for six months when I wouldn’t name our son after Tony, but I just kept plugging away. My husband and I finally got her to leave the old place, but we have to take her by there every two to three days just to make sure Tony hasn’t come back. She kept nearly all of Tony’s stuff. She’s probably showing it to the other detective.”



“What about your father?” Olivia asked.



“We lost touch with him…He drifted in and out…He died five years ago from liver disease.” Sophia stared out the small window. “I guess you just learn to live with terrible things.”



“Do you remember anything about that time?” Olivia asked softly.



“Not much,” Sophia admitted. “I was five. It’s pretty much a blur to me. I remember the police didn’t seem to be much help. They thought he’d run away. It really upset my Mom and Dad…especially my Mom. She was really angry at her brother John. I don’t think she’s had much contact with him since then. He used to be around all of the time…He was really close to Tony.”



“Why was she angry at her brother?”



“He was a cop…Not with the NYPD…but some place in the suburbs. I guess Mom thought he’d have some influence with the investigation…” Sophia rand her hand through her hair again. “Westchester County. He’s still with that department.”



Olivia fought a sense of excitement. “What’s his name?”



“Bertelli. John Bertelli…It was kind of odd…Uncle John…Right before Tony disappeared…It wasn’t that he was losing his faith…I don’t think Tony was quite that deep…” She looked at Olivia with some embarrassment. “But he was questioning things…And he was involved with so much…And I think he knew he wasn’t going to be a priest. I remember arguments about Tony wanting to quit being an altar boy.” Sophia shrugged again. “He was fifteen…He didn’t want to spend extra time in church. You know…” An idea struck her. “I think Uncle John was more upset by that than Mom and Dad. And after Tony disappeared, Dad got really mad. Uncle John said something about it being God’s will. Dad said he didn’t think God’s will involved causing so much pain.”



“Is your uncle still a cop?”



“Oh, yea…he’s some assistant chief or officer or something,” Sophia said casually. “Like I said…we’re not in contact…Tony’s disappearance hurt a lot of people…”



“Yea,” Olivia said quietly.



“It…I don’t know what it would mean to me…knowing what happened to him,” Sophia said. “I’m used to…I’ve accepted that he’s probably dead…and I don’t know about Mom…You’d think she’d want to know…But I’m not sure she does…”



“Thank you,” Olivia said. “What you’ve told me…It may help…”



When Sophia and Olivia returned to the living room, they discovered Bobby and Mrs. Genoa standing before an open closet. Bobby towered over the older woman, who spoke rapidly and warmly as she pointed out objects and lifted them for his inspection.



“Tony,” she declared. “Is a good boy…a very good boy.”



Olivia caught Bobby’s eyes, and they winced at the woman’s use of the present tense in talking about her son. Olivia sensed that Bobby’s interview had been much harder than hers.



“Mrs. Genoa,” Olivia said. “Sophia told me…Tony is close to his Uncle John?”



“Oh, yes!” said Mrs. Genoa brightly. “My brother thinks the world of Tony. But we haven’t seen much of him lately, have we Sophia?”



“No, Mom,” Sophia answered calmly.



Bobby looked at Olivia curiously; Mrs. Genoa answered his questions.



“John is a policeman,” she said proudly. “He goes to all of Tony’s baseball games.” She leaned into the closet and briefly rummaged through a box. “Here.” She thrust a frame photo at Bobby, who accepted it with great care. “That was taken the year Tony was the Most Valuable Player on his team…the year…before…” Mrs. Genoa choked.



Bobby handed the photo to Olivia and tenderly guided Mrs. Genoa to the couch. He handed her his handkerchief.



“It’s all right,” he said, and Olivia thought anyone could believe in those words in that voice.



“It’s just,” Mrs. Genoa said as she gained some control. “I…I miss my Tony.”



“I understand,” Bobby said. “Do you think…would you mind…if we took that photo…It might help us…”



“Of course…anything to help you…”



Olivia handed the photo back to Bobby, who slipped it carefully back into his binder. “I promise you that I will get this back to you,” he said. He stood, and Mrs. Genoa clutched at his hand.



“Do you have to go?” she pleaded.



“I’m afraid so,” Bobby said gently. “But I promise you that I’ll call you and let you know what’s happening. And…” He carefully freed his hand from Mrs. Genoa’s grasp and extracted a business card from a binder pocket. “Here’s my card…You can call me.”



Mrs. Genoa seized the card. “Thank you…You’re a good boy…Just like my Tony…”



“I’m sure,” Bobby said softly. “That your Tony is much better than me.”



END Chapter Five