Solo By: afg Rating: NC17 for graphic violence, sex and expletives. Category: Casefile, Scully/other, MSR Disclaimer: Not mine and no money is being made. Summary: While Mulder is suspended and on medical leave, Scully gets assigned to Violent Crimes. Thanks: To audu2, for giving her time and much needed skill, also to Xangel for help and encouragement. For: The delightful AnubisKV5. See what your simple request has unleashed! Bet you're sorry now. Feedback: Would be lovely. siggy.63@btinternet.com Website: www.ofnoconsequence.com Note: This story is set season 5 before 'Travellers' but it doesn't follow canon. ~oOo~ Chapter Eight. Baltimore Police Department North East District 4:30pm The officer manning the front desk of the police station was looking at his logbook as Scully approached the desk. She flashed her ID. "Good afternoon. Is Sergeant Kritch around?" The Desk Sergeant gave her a look of barely concealed boredom and gestured to the open office area behind him. "He's the big guy with the grey hair." Scully looked where he was pointing and saw a man in his mid-fifties with steel grey hair cut close to his head. "Thank you." She walked through the little gate that separated the hall from the office and made her way to Kritch's desk. He looked up as she approached. "Agent Scully?" he asked. "Sergeant Kritch. Thank you for seeing me at such short notice." "No problem. " He eyeballed her for a moment. "So you're Mulder's partner?" Scully looked steadily at him. "Yes." He gave her a slightly amused smile, seemingly pleased about something. "So, how is the little bastard?" "Agent Mulder is currently on medical leave," she said, ice forming on the words. "Nothing new there then. I'll bet you have your hands full with old Spooky." Scully stepped closer to the desk and looked down at Kritch. His face was angular, deep creases ran across his forehead and around his eyes. She suddenly realised that there was genuine warmth in the man's gaze; he was teasing her. She cocked an eyebrow and smiled at him "Sergeant, you have no idea." He barked out a laugh and stood up, sticking his hand out to her. "It's Joey to you. How can I help?" Scully looked up at him. He was tall, about six foot seven. She sighed, wondering why, just for once, she couldn't meet a law enforcement officer who didn't give her a crick in the neck. She shook his hand. His grip was firm but gentle. "As I mentioned on the phone, I'm involved in the investigation into the murder on Druid Hill." "Yeah." Kritch sat down again and gestured towards a chair. "Take a seat Agent Scully." Scully sat down and watched as he pulled out a sheet of paper from his desk drawer. "So your theory is that this 'Artist' creep is getting his jollies by offing homeless people on his down time?" "Mulder's profile suggests he's highly intelligent and has a deep seated need to kill; along with his psychopathic personality he's also a narcissist, which leads Mulder to think that rejection might be his trigger. However, he's only killed four women in as many years. What's he been doing the rest of the time? How does he keep control of all of that anger? Mulder's postulated that he may be married or have some sort of sexual partner but he doesn't think that's enough to offset his urge to kill." Kritch scrubbed his hand over his bristly hair. "How do we know he hasn't killed more than four women?" Scully shrugged. "We don't, but our man does like to make a show of his kills. The disembowelling and display of his victims is very precise, he's not called the 'Artist' for nothing. Then of course there is the ritual with the eyes." "What about the eyes?" "That part of his routine hasn't been publicized. He removes the victim's right eye. We think he may either collect them as trophies or he eats them." "Jesus Christ." "Killing transients or derelicts wouldn't be much less of a challenge for him but it might tide him over until he feels secure enough to indulge himself in what he really likes to do." Kritch sighed. "Agent Scully, the sort of people you're looking for might as well be invisible when it comes to having records on them." He leaned back in his chair. "We have some poor bum turn up dead everyday. Usually it's drink or drugs. In the winter it's the cold. Some are killed by prospective gang members eager to get their colors by making a kill; they're easy pickings, no one cares." Scully was starting to feel that this was going to be another dead end. "Have there been any unusual deaths recently, anything that stands out for you?" Kritch thought for a moment, the furrows in his brow crinkling like contour lines on a map "Tell you what Agent, do you feel up to making a house call?" "Sure. Where are we going?" "I'm going to take you down to Pier Street to meet a lady" "All right." "Good, you can tell me all about what your partner's been up to on the way." ~oOo~ The man was sipping a cup of coffee and looking at the headline in the paper. He was still the top story. He felt a flood of warmth in his chest. It offset the tiredness a little. He'd had a busy night and he had so much to do. It was like the plate spinning act in the circus his father had taken him to see when he'd been a boy. The man in the silver sequined waistcoat, rushing from pole to pole, trying to keep all the plates spinning. How he'd laughed as one would crash to the floor. Not for him though; no plate smashing for him, he'd practiced his art until he was a master at what he did. He brushed a piece of lint off his trouser leg and took another sip of coffee. He read the report of the news conference. He must admit he had them running about like headless chickens. Perhaps it was time to throw them a bone. He'd have to have a talk with Alice. He was sure she was going to be on her best behaviour for a while after her little lesson last night. He just needed to get the timing right. He'd never tried to manipulate the investigators before, but he thought it might be amusing. He did so love a challenge. ~oOo~ Scully sat in the passenger seat of the patrol car, trying not to breathe too deeply. The car smelled heavily of bleach, old coffee and stale cigarette smoke. "Sorry about the smell." Kritch turned his head to look at her. "I had a drunk in the car yesterday and he left me a little parting gift. I don't know if the smell of this bleach is much better though." He gave a shrug of his broad shoulders. Scully gave him a small smile and went back to looking out of the window. The back streets around the docks looked desperately grey and abandoned in the afternoon light. "So how did Mulder get injured this time?" Scully turned back to Kritch. "He was chasing down a child murderer, the man smashed Mulder's femur with a baseball bat." "Ouch. He'll be okay though, right?" Scully wondered at the concern in Kritch's voice. "Yes, he'll be fine, but it will take a while." "Where were you? Didn't he have someone to watch his back?" She heard a note of accusation and she stiffened; guilt and anger crawling through her in equal measure. "Mulder didn't tell me where he was going. He went alone with no backup." She waited for his look of disapproval, surprised to find herself concerned that this man should find her wanting. Kritch took his eyes of the empty street. "I'll bet that really pissed you off." He looked at her with absolute seriousness. "Yes, Sergeant. It really pissed me off." Kritch held her gaze for a beat and then turned his attention back to the road. "Did he ever tell you how we met?" Scully shook her head. "Eight years ago a man broke into my house while I was on night shift. He raped my wife and smothered her to death with a pillow. Then he took my twelve-year-old daughter from her bed and disappeared into the night. The next day Mulder turned up with his partner, I forget his name...Jerry something. I didn't much care for him; he bounced around Mulder like a goddamned puppy. Anyway apparently my house had been visited by the 'Night Caller' A serial rapist and murderer who'd been working in Richmond. Things must have got too hot for him over there so he'd decided to cross state lines and fuck over the good people of Baltimore." Scully winced at bitterness of his words. "Mulder worked on the investigation for two weeks. I never saw him sleep, not once. It was like it was his daughter that had been taken. If I'm honest, sometimes he scared me, you know?" Scully nodded. Anyway, he got a lead and he was off, leaving everybody holding their dicks; the Hostage Rescue guys and his partner. He found her in an old abandoned bakery downtown. That evil fucker had done things to her that I won't trouble your mind with, but Mulder got her out, not without being stabbed twice by the bastard. Later we found out that the guy had a scanner, a real sophisticated piece of shit that would have picked up any tactical coms. He'd have known they were coming and my daughter would have been dead." "Is your daughter all right now?" Kritch shook his head. "Jenny doesn't talk. She hasn't said a word since she was rescued. She used to scream a whole lot though, and cower in corners. For a long time she wouldn't let me near her, but she's got better at that over the years. Mulder found her a place at "The Cedars" You know it? "Yes. It's a good place." It was a very good psychiatric nursing home, with an excellent reputation. It was also very expensive. "You're wondering how an old lush of a cop like me can afford it, aren't you?" Scully blushed "Mulder covers some of the costs. Don't ask me why, I didn't want him to but he's a persistent little fucker when he wants to be and I'm more grateful than I can ever say." Scully thought she saw tears in Kritch's grey eyes, but he blinked before she could be sure. "We go out a couple of times a year and talk about baseball and get drunk. He's a good man. Mad as a clam but a good man." "Yes he is." He was also full of surprises. "You two been partners long?" "We've been together for five years." Scully had the feeling that Kritch knew very well how long it had been. "I imagine it must have had its interesting moments." "I haven't been bored so far. Why do you ask?" "I've been a cop for twenty three years and before that I was a marine. I've seen men worn out by the things that they've seen and done. They all had that flat-eyed look of exhaustion, not because they were physically tired so much but like their spirit had been gnawed away by the endless grind of horror. Don't take this the wrong way, Agent Scully but you've got that look." Scully was taken aback by this man's forthrightness. "Gee Sergeant Kritch, you certainly know how to flatter a girl." She meant it to sound casual but it came out quivery and brittle and to her dismay she could feel her eyes moistening. "I'm sorry Agent Scully I didn't mean to upset you, I have this annoying habit of saying it like I see it. Which would explain why I never made lieutenant...well that and my love for Johnny Walker." Kritch gave her a warm smile. "We're here." Scully was still trying to put her walls firmly back in place and hadn't noticed that he'd pulled the car to a stop. They'd parked in a street full of boarded up shops and businesses. At the end of the long street she glimpsed the docks. "Lovely ain't it?" Kritch smiled at her. "Our lady lives around back." They both got out of the car and made their way through an alley that opened up into a large open area. Kritch looked at Scully noting her expression of surprise. "It's another world." Scully nodded he was right. In the open area a cardboard village had been built looking strangely organic like it had grown there. Plastic sheeting covered everything and some people had even added little flurries of colored fabric like medieval banners to delineate one dwelling from another. "This way." Kritch pointed to a narrow path that ran through the 'village'. Scully followed him trying not to stare at the people as she passed by. They averted their eyes from Scully and Kritch as if desperately trying to avoid any attention. Scully felt like she'd come from another planet in her neat pantsuit and crisp white blouse. The smell was incredible; a pungent mixture of unwashed bodies, urine, stale booze and rotting cardboard. Kritch pointed to a large collection of cardboard boxes with brightly colored scarves fluttering from old car radio aerials poked into the tops. Suddenly a huge man with dull eyes and dirty brown hair hanging in a fringe around a large bald patch appeared and blocked their path. "Hey, Mike. Is Cora about?" Kritch asked the man. "What you want Cora for? She ain't done nothing wrong." Mike sounded belligerent. "It's all right Mike. I always have time for Sergeant Kritch." Scully watched as a woman emerged from the dwelling. "Hello Cora, how're things?" Kritch smiled down at the woman. "So, so." She looked at Scully. "I see you've had a win on the horses Kritch, you've certainly picked a better class of whore." Scully looked at the woman's deadpan expression but didn't miss the twinkle of humor in her dark eyes. "Maybe I'm just slumming." She looked equally expressionless. Cora held her gaze for a moment and then burst into the most musical laughter Scully had ever heard, she couldn't help but smile back. "So, Kritch, you going to be a gentleman and introduce me to your friend?" Cora managed once she'd stopped laughing. "Sure. Special Agent Dana Scully, meet Cora French. " Cora held out her hand. "I don't believe we've ever had a visit from the FBI before." Scully shook her hand. She was a little taller in her heels than Cora. The woman's face was extraordinary; chocolate brown and covered in wrinkles that whirled and spiralled on her skin like a map of time. She looked ancient and strangely beautiful. "I'd like to ask you some questions, Ms. French." "Just Cora will do. What kind of questions?" "I need to know whether there have been any unusual deaths among the homeless community." Cora laughed. "Lady, there are always unusual deaths around here, you're going to have to be a little more specific." "Agent Scully thinks there might be someone targeting the homeless, Cora. Would you know anything about that?" Kritch asked. Cora's gaze shifted to Mike who was still standing guard beside her. "Mike, honey, go find Lena will you?" "Sure, Cora." He lumbered off. "Who's Lena?" Scully watched Mike as he wandered through the maze of cardboard. "She's a mouse." Cora smiled at Scully, all yellow teeth and pale gums. "Invisible." There was a loud shriek and Mike emerged from one of the dwellings with what looked like a small bundle of squirming rags held in his big paw. He maneuvered himself and his reluctant companion back to Cora's side. He released his prize...a young woman, rail thin and so jittery that she looked as though she was about to leap out of her skin at any moment. Cora put her hand under the girls chin and looked into her eyes. "Lena, darlin'. Tell this pretty lady what you saw last night." She turned Lena's face towards Scully. Scully looked at the girl in front of her. The muscles of her face twitched constantly. And her eyes skittered about as if looking for the nearest escape route. "Hello Lena." Scully smiled at her. "I ain't telling nobody nothin'," Lena shook her head rapidly. Scully reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled five-dollar bill. The girl's eyes fixed on it. "What did you see last night, Lena?" Scully held out the money. Lena snatched it up and stuffed it in the pocket of her filthy jeans. "I saw a man down in the old train yards, he was with a woman." "Tell her what you saw the man do, Lena." Cora encouraged. Lena kept quiet her lips clamped shut. She eyed Scully's coat pocket. Sighing, Scully put her hand back in her pocket and pulled out her last bill; ten-dollars this time. "That's all there is." She held it out to Lena. Once again she snatched it up. "He set fire to the old man." Scully winced at the lack of emotion coming from the girl "What old man?" "The old drunk who hangs out around there. Shit, that old guy screamed up a racket." Lena grinned at her as though she was telling a particularly amusing anecdote. Her teeth were black with rot. She looked at Kritch. "Have there been any incidents like that reported?" "No, and it's not likely there will be. Like I said, these folks are dropping like flies, not many get incident reports written up on them, because a whole lot of them are never found." Scully nodded. Intellectually she knew about the statistics of homelessness and the average life expectancy of someone living on the streets. She didn't romanticize these people. She knew that much of it was down to their own choices; drink and drugs leading them to dereliction and ruin. Sometimes though it was a down to a failure in good mental health provision or just the dark side of the American dream. It was frighteningly easy to slip through the cracks and end looking at the world through a cardboard box. There was an awfully big difference between an intellectual exercise and the visceral reality of seeing these men and women in the flesh. She turned back to Lena. "Can you describe the man you saw?" Lena looked for moment as though she was going to hold out for more money, but seemed to think better of it. "It was real dark. He was tall and looked like you." Scully looked puzzled. "You mean he had red hair?" Lena shook her head. "No, he looked straight, like you." Cora touched the thick wool of Scully's coat. "What she means is that he wasn't a bum, he had money, he was smartly dressed." Scully nodded in understanding. "Did you see his face?" Lena shrugged her bony shoulders "I was behind them. He was tall like I said. He maybe had dark hair." "What was he wearing?" "Shit, I don't know, a dark coat maybe...can I go now?" Her face had started to twitch even more violently. Scully tried to hold her wandering gaze. "You said he was with a woman? Could you describe her?" "She was about the same size as you. Long hair...I wanna go now, Cora." Lena turned to Cora, a pleading look on her face. "In a moment child." Cora patted her cheek. "What did the woman do when the he set the old man on fire?" Scully knew that this girl was going to bolt at any second. She thought about reaching for her cuffs. "Oh, fuck, I don't know. Screamed some, I guess...I wanna go, now!" Before Scully could grab her, the girl pushed passed Kritch and Mike and took off like a rabbit at a dog track, scampering between the cardboard boxes and through the alley. "Dammit." Scully, didn't even bother go in pursuit of the girl. Lena defiantly had the home advantage. "Will she be back?" Scully asked Cora. "I can't say. Lena's a junkie, and she's not too particular what she sticks in her veins. She might come back when she's scored but she's often gone for days. She's just as likely to be found dead in a doorway." "I'll put an APB out on her." Kritch said. "Although I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you." Scully could have kicked herself for not taking Lena into custody, now she'd gone and lost maybe the only person who had any idea of what the 'Artist' looked like. She felt a hand on her shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up about it. Maybe it wasn't your guy, it could have been some other bastard out for an evening's entertainment." Kritch could obviously see what she was thinking. "It was him, I know it." She did know it. On some gut level she knew that Lena had seen the man they were looking for. "Cora, can you let Sergeant Kritch know if she comes back? It's very important." "You don't want him because he set some drunk alight, do you? He's gone and killed one of you nice folk. Now, why should I trouble myself with that?" Cora looked at her with obsidian eyes. "You're right Cora. He has murdered four young women. He gutted them and put them on display. It's also our belief that he may have murdered several homeless people, but we can't be sure. Lena is perhaps the only person who has seen him. He might know that, he's a very smart guy. If he knows about Lena, then he might know about this place. Is that worth troubling yourself with?" Cora looked at her for a long minute, hard black meeting cold blue. "If she comes back I'll let Kritch know." "Thank you." Scully felt some of the tension in her body ease. "You ready to go?" Kritch indicated the alley. "Yes." She wanted to get out of this place, and back to her own world. "Okay then." Kritch turned to the old woman and slipped her some bills, which she unhurriedly took. "I'll see you around Cora." "Sure, Kritch, come by anytime." Cora looked as though she wished they'd never come at all. She watched them as they turned to leave, then patted Mike on the arm and went back into her little cardboard condo. Mike retrieved a cigarette butt from the pocket of his worn overcoat and carefully lit it before resuming his guard duty. Scully and Kritch picked their way back through the way they'd come and walked in silence to the car. Scully got in and buckled the seat belt. It was starting to rain and fat drops of water were hitting the windshield. Kritch got behind the wheel and turned to face her "Do you really believe that the killer saw Lena?" "I can't be sure but it's unlikely." "Why?" "Because I think she'd be dead by now." "You want to go down to the train yard where Lena reckons she saw your guy? "Yes, I do. "Okay let's go take a look." ~oOo~ Mulder sat on the sofa with his laptop. His injured leg was propped up on the coffee table with a pillow. The phone rang. "Don't move Fox, I'll get it." Maggie came in from the kitchen and picked up the phone. "Hello?" "Mom it's me." Maggie mouthed "It's Dana," to Mulder. "Are you ringing to say you'll be late?" She could hear the sound of a car. "Yeah, Mom I need to ask a favour. Could you stay with Mulder tonight? I think I'm going to be stuck here for quite a while, so I'll just sleep on the cot in our basement office. I have spare clothes there." Maggie sighed. "Dana, you're not trying to avoid me are you?" There was a long pause. "No Mom I'm not trying to avoid you. I have work to do, a lot of work to do. If you can't stay just say so." "It's no problem honey. I can stay." Maggie could feel her daughter's frustration over the phone. "Thanks, mom. I'm sorry I didn't mean so be so sharp with you." "That's okay. Please take care of yourself." "I will." Maggie heard the deep rumble of a man's voice. "Mom, tell Mulder 'Joey says he owes him a drink'" "Okay." "See you tomorrow." "Bye, honey." Maggie put the phone back on its cradle. "Looks like you'll have to put up with my company a bit longer, Fox." Mulder smiled at her. "There's nothing to put up with, Maggie. You don't have to stay you know." "I'd never forgive myself if I left and you had a fall, it's no problem at all." Maggie patted his arm. "Oh, Dana said to tell you that Joey says you owe him a drink." Mulder smiled. "She's still with Joey Kritch?" "It sounded like she was in a car with a man. Is he a friend of yours?" "Yes, he's a nice guy. Maybe they found something useful." Maggie sat down next to him "Is it always like this when you work?" "It can be, serial cases are the worst. The pressure is on all the time." Mulder switched off the laptop. "You want to get some take out? It'll save you cooking." Maggie thought for a moment. "How about pizza? I haven't had that in ages." "Pizza it is. What do you want on yours?" "Cheese, sausage and anchovy, please." Mulder did a double take. "That's quite the flavour combination." "You should try it. I've loved it ever since Bill brought pizza home when I was pregnant with Dana." "Well that explains a lot." Mulder laughed. "But I think I'll give that particular taste sensation a miss." Maggie got up and passed him the phone. "I hope Dana remembers to eat." Mulder sighed. He liked Maggie but he wished that tonight he had Scully nagging him about his lack of vegetable intake and his crappy choice of movies. "I'm sure she'll be fine." He gave Maggie a reassuring smile and wondered if he'd blown his chances of ever having that easy camaraderie with his partner again. ~oOo~ It had begun to rain in earnest by the time they pulled up along the wire fence that ran beside the abandoned train yard. Scully scowled at the grey skies and got out of the car. "How do we get in?" She looked over the top of the car at Kritch. "I reckon there'll be a gap in the fence somewhere along here." They walked along the fence for about twenty yards, until Scully spotted a break in the wire. They squeezed through and headed across the rain-slicked concrete that shimmered blackly in the evening gloom. "So, Agent Scully. If you were a bum where would you hang out?" Kritch pointed to the derelict warehouses across the yard. "I guess I'd pick one that didn't leak." Kritch nodded and they headed towards the first building; only the noise of their footsteps and the hum of distant traffic, alleviating the oppressive quiet of the place. "Your guy could be as noisy as he wanted 'round here." Scully put her hand on his arm. "Do you smell it?" Kritch stood for a moment. "Shit, yeah." They were just by the battered entrance of the first building they'd come to. Through the damp air they could smell it. A sickly, acrid stench of charred meat overlaid the damp air. Kritch pushed open the creaking door. He took his flashlight from his belt and pointed it into the gloom. The smell was almost overpowering inside. "Jesus Christ." Kritch grimaced at the taste in his mouth from the oily atmosphere. Scully tracked the light as it swept along the floor. She caught a glimpse of what looked like a black heap over on the side- wall. "Over there." She stepped in front of Kritch and headed over, pulling out her own little flashlight and pointing to the floor making sure she wasn't stepping on evidence. "Look." Kritch aimed his light to where she was pointing. "Christ on a crutch." The man was curled up in a fetal position. The fire had contracted the tendons in his arms and legs and his knees were pulled tight to his chest, hands fisted under his chin. The whole body was burnt black like a joint of meat that had been left too long in the oven. The hair had been scorched away and his eyes were gone. His jaw gaped in a scream that no one could hear. "Poor bastard." Kritch shined his light on the myriad of bottles that were lying broken or charred by the heat. "He wouldn't have stood a chance." Scully was feeling sick. The smell and the idea that someone could do this to another human being was making her stomach churn. "This wasn't done at random. The killer must have been here before and scoped the place out. He knew where this man was. He knew that he could do whatever he wanted and nobody would hear." "But why? Why come out on a cold night and set some wino on fire?" Kritch gestured to the corpse. Scully stood silent for a moment. She could almost feel the killer's presence as though he stood beside her. Anger, like a diamond hard chip of ice, lodged in her chest. "Lena said he had a woman with him. She said she heard her scream. I think this man was killed as an example. I think our killer had already picked this man out weeks ago. He killed him in front of the woman to teach her some sort of lesson." Kritch had to strain to hear her. "You okay?" He put his hand on her shoulder. Scully looked up at him as though she'd been woken from a dream. "Yes, I'm fine." "Well, I'm sure glad one of us is." "Let's get out of here and call this in." Scully could tell that the smell was getting to Kritch. They both needed to get out into the fresh air. As she turned to go her flashlight strafed over something on the floor by her foot. She hunkered down to take a closer look. "What is it?" Kritch aimed his light to where she was looking and watched as she pulled out a pair of latex gloves from her pocket. Scully very carefully picked up the small object. It was wet from the rain that had leaked through the roof. "It's a book of matches." She stood up and showed it Kritch. He could see there was a picture of a black cat of some kind, a panther perhaps, reclining on some red satin cushions. Printed in gothic script, underneath the picture, were the words 'Bete Noir'.