Morning is a Long Time Coming (4/8) by Bean Rated PG Keywords: Bayliss. Pembleton. New character. Summary: A suspect? Disclaimer in part 1. --------------- Morning is a Long Time Coming (4/8) "I don't need to tell you two how big this case is, and I'm sure I don't need to tell you about how Colonel Barnfather was in here breathing down my neck this morning, and I'm absolutely certain I don't need to ask if you have any leads because you, my wonderful detectives, are surely on the verge of putting this down. Aren't you?" Lt. Giardello says to Bayliss and Pembleton that afternoon as soon as they return to the squad room from the murder scene. "Surely you understand, my esteemed lieutenant, the impossibility that we, your wonderful detectives, could be on the verge of putting this down so soon after the crimes have been committed," Pembleton says with a half smile. "But Rowan Logan did give us a possible lead," Bayliss speaks up before Gee can explode, "an ex-boyfriend of hers who she says has been following her around." "And we're checking out all of Jack Logan's associates, but he knew a lot of people, so it's gonna take some time." "What about the neighbors? Did anyone hear anything or see anything at either location?" Giardello demands. "Nah, nobody saw a thing. Everyone was asleep when Jack and Julia Logan were killed, and no one cares in the neighborhood where Jeremy was found," Bayliss tells him. "Listen to me, gentlemen," Gee says sternly, rising from behind his desk, "I want this case put down! I want Rowan Logan to know that the murderer of her brother and her parents has been brought to justice, I want the brass to stop breathing down my neck about it, and I want the press out of our hair!" "Yeah, Gee, we're working on it. But about Rowan Logan..." Bayliss trails off and his lieutenant looks at him expectantly. "It's just that we think she's this guy's next target, so she needs to be put somewhere safe." "Then we'll get her a motel room and put her under guard. You know how it works, Bayliss." "Come on, Gee, this girl doesn't belong in some two-bit motel room," Frank speaks up quickly. "Well then she can stay at your place, Frank!" Giardello tells him. "Mary would shoot me," he replies in reference to his wife, who would indeed be very angry at his endangering their two children, not to mention himself. "Well... she could stay at my place," Bayliss offers hesitantly. Giardello and Pembleton share a glance, both knowing this is a terrible idea, but most likely the lesser of evils. "Alright, fine, she can sleep on your couch, but make sure she wouldn't rather have that two-bit motel room first. Now get out there and solve this damn case, gentlemen!" Gee cries as the two detectives practically flee their lieutenant's office. They feel they've gotten off lucky. ----------- "At your place? Isn't that against some rule or something?" Rowan asks when Bayliss tells her of the plan. "What is it with this obsession you have with rules?" he demands, rather exasperated. "What is it with this obsession *you* have with breaking them?" she counters with eyebrows raised, a tiny smile hovering at the corners of her mouth. He shakes his head and doesn't answer. "So? It's either my couch or some motel room with a couple of plain-clothes you've never laid eyes on before." He's serious. She can't believe he's serious. His couch? Christ... what the hell? What does she have left to lose at this point? Rowan's smile grows and she nods. "Well when you put it that way it does make your couch sound a bit better." She pauses, dark eyes clouding in thought as her brow furrows. "You... you think he'll come after me?" she asks hesitantly. The cracks in her shell of confidence widen further. "I don't know, Rowan, but we can't be too sure," he answers, his green eyes soft and his brow creased in concern. "Regardless, it's more than likely he won't be able to find you at my place, and if he does... well, that's what my gun is for." "Have you ever shot someone?" she wants to know as he leads her to the coffee room. "I mean... to kill?" He shakes his head. "I've shot at someone, but I've never hit anyone." She glances up at him. "Your aim's that bad?" Bayliss frowns. "No. I wasn't trying to hit him or anything. My partner let loose, so I did too. The guy was pissed... he was my friend..." he trails off, looking uncomfortable. "But it's been several years now, back when I was on mayoral detail." He gestures to a chair and takes the one opposite as she sits. "There are some things that we have to discuss, Rowan." He pauses, watching her for a moment before continuing. "First of all, you can't go to school until we catch this guy. You can't do shows with The X unless it's someplace like the Waterfront, where we can keep an eye on you." She frowns. "I guess you're saying I can't go out at all unless accompanied by one of the Boys in Blue. So... what... there's a mad man after me, and I'm the one who has to be a prisoner?" she asks rather bitterly. "Hey," he says quickly, "it's not that bad. You can hang out at the Waterfront as much as you want because at least one cop is there at all times usually. You can become our house band." Before she can reply, Pembleton sticks his head around the corner. "Bayliss, we got Alan Bryant, Sherry Lyons and Kevin Allison here. You wanna talk to them?" Rowan glances up sharply. "You aren't going to scare them to death, are you?" "No, Rowan. We just need to ask them a few questions," Bayliss says to her. "Listen, about what we talked about... there would be even less freedom if you had elected to stay in the motel. You wouldn't have been able to leave the room at all." He stands up from the table and pours a cup of coffee. "Yeah, Frank, I'm coming," he calls, following his partner to his desk. "So she picked your couch?" Pembleton says after a moment. "Yeah... I guess I'm less of a stranger or something." Frank gives his partner a strange glance. "Or something." Bayliss ignores this and stops in front of the aquarium, their name for the glass-walled suspect and witness depository, and gestures to Alan Bryant. "So what's the story with this guy?" "I don't think there's any way that Bryant kid could've killed Jeremy Logan. Look at him, he's scared to death." Bayliss nods. "Yeah, it seems so." His brow creases in thought as he mulls over the facts of the case. "We have three victims," he says, turning away from the glass. "The first two are killed at home, asleep, and Rowan says the door was unlocked. Obviously the murderer has a key." "Not necessarily, Bayliss. The Logans could have just left the door unlocked," Pembleton offers. The other detective frowns. "In this city, Frank? I doubt it. Though Rowan did say something about her father leaving the door unlocked to catch her sneaking in..." "Yeah, but then he would wait up for her in the living room. He was asleep in bed when they were attacked." "Well maybe he planned to get up and go downstairs, but didn't get the chance." "That seems awfully convenient. It's more likely the killer just had a key," Frank says. "Exactly. So now about Jeremy..." "His door was unlocked as well." "But it wasn't his house... so maybe Alan Bryant let someone in as he left." "Well by that line of thinking, Jeremy Logan could've done the same thing at his parents' house. Or he could have just left the door unlocked as he went out." "Yeah, but why would he?" Bayliss demands. "His parents were asleep. Surely he'd have enough sense to lock the door behind him - or to know that they wouldn't want to be disturbed by a visitor that late." Frank shrugs. "Jeremy was asleep at the time of his murder too," he points out. Bayliss paces for a moment, thinking. "Jeremy Logan could have left his parents' house any time in an eleven hour period. The key to this whole thing is Alan Bryant. If he says Jeremy Logan arrived at their place between midnight and eight, then it's possible he let our killer in." "But, Bayliss, we still have that sixty-four thousand dollar question: why would he? Who would he let in to a house empty of all people except those asleep?" "Maybe Jack and Julia Logan weren't asleep when Jeremy let our guy in." "They were killed in their sleep. Was this guy a house guest or something?" "You did a sweep of the house, Frank. Had any of the guest bedrooms been disturbed?" Pembleton shakes his head in negation. "Nope. Everything was clean as a..." he pauses, and the two detectives share a look, both struck with the same thought. "The house was spotless except for the bedroom," Bayliss says slowly. "Even Jeremy Logan's room. You find me a seventeen year old who keeps his room like a museum and I'll find you a pig with wings." Bayliss hurries to the coffee room. "Rowan, do you have a cleaning lady or a maid or anything?" he asks quickly. She looks up at him, startled. "A... a cleaning guy, yeah... John Patterson... he comes on Tuesdays at three. Why?" "Is there any reason he might have come last night?" Rowan frowns. "I don't see why... unless momma was planning a party or something. She would call that poor cleaning boy at all hours of the day and night before a party. Now why?" "I'll explain later," he says, quickly returning to Pembleton to give him Rowan's information. "So Jeremy Logan would have let him in at just about any time, thinking his mother might be planning a party and just hadn't mentioned it to him. And then the Logans could have gone to sleep, leaving this Patterson guy to do his job." "But... why would Alan Bryant let the cleaning guy into *his* house?" "Let's go talk to Alan Bryant." Pembleton motions to a uniform standing in the aquarium and the man of the moment is gathered up and ushered to the Box. Bayliss scans the squad room and catches sight of Lewis, who is throwing a football back and forth with his former partner, Mike Kellerman. "Hey, Mikey, Lewis, do me a favor, will ya?" he calls to them. "Whatcha want, Timmy?" Meldrick calls back. "I need you to get anything you can on a guy by the name of John Patterson. Run his name through the computer, track him down and bring him in. We need to talk to him about the Logan case." "We're on it," Kellerman tells him, surprisingly acquiescent for once. With a sigh of something akin to relief, Bayliss continues on to the Box, pausing at the white dry-erase board on his way. Three new names appear under his in red: Logan, Ja; Logan, Ju; and Logan, Je. An image of a fourth name, also in red - Logan, R - flits through his mind and he shakes his head to dislodge it. Rowan Logan is not going to become victim number four. He won't allow it. The case will go down, the names will turn to black, and balance will be restored. He motions to Frank and they enter the Box together, the two detectives a strange combination of seemingly innocent boyish charm and understated masculine elegance. Tim Bayliss and Frank Pembleton are the personification of a yin-yang: they are different, yet the same on a deep level, and they compliment and complete one another without even trying to. In the Box, they are at home. In the Box, they are lethal. Alan Bryant starts in surprise as they join him in the ochre-yellow room. He stares at them with wide, pale blue eyes and is suddenly very afraid. He has done nothing wrong, he knows, but these men seem to convince him with their very presence that he has, and that he is about to tell them everything about the crime. "Mr. Bryant," Bayliss begins conversationally, "I'm Detective Bayliss and this is my partner Detective Pembleton. We would like to ask you a few questions about Jeremy Logan." Alan's brow furrows in confusion. "What about Jeremy?" he asks. "You haven't heard of his death, Mr. Bryant?" Pembleton asks gently. The young man's eyes widen further and his jaw drops in shock. "Jeremy *Logan*? Are you sure? I just saw him this morning... he was... *murdered*? Do you know who did it? What happened?" "We were hoping you could help us with that, Mr. Bryant," Bayliss says gently, sitting down opposite Alan. Pembleton takes the third chair and leans across the table. "Rowan Logan says that you and Jeremy were roommates. In fact, he was killed in *your* rowhouse. Do you know anything about that?" He blanches. "I... yeah, Jeremy sometimes stayed at my place when things got too rough at his. Occasionally he even contributed a little to the rent or food or something. Last night he came over at about..." he pauses, trying to remember, "at about one or one thirty. He was pissed because his dad had apparently gone ballistic over something about Rowan and was tearin' the house down or something. He asked if he could stay for the night, and I said yeah, of course he could. When I left for work this morning, he was fine as far as I know." Bayliss frowns slightly. "Uh-huh... so what time was it you left for work?" "I have to be there by seven thirty, so it was seven. I'm always on time. You can ask my boss. I'm an orderly at Johns Hopkins." Pembleton makes a note of this before asking, "Now when you left, did you lock the door behind you?" "I... I honestly don't remember. I probably did, but I'm not sure." "And you didn't let anyone in as you were going out?" Bayliss asks. "No, definitely not. I'd remember that," Alan answers confidently. "When you left, you didn't see anyone strange hanging out around the house? No one you didn't recognize?" Alan shifts uncomfortably in his seat and won't meet either pair of the eyes boring down into his skull. "Um, I wasn't really paying attention... or something." His first lie of the day. And why? Why waste that first lie so stupidly and so obviously? Frank shakes his head. "Or something? I think you *were* paying attention, Mr. Bryant. Why don't you just save us all a headache and tell us who you saw," he says, his tone deceptively gentle and reassuring. "Well..." he pauses, unsure how to proceed, "there's this guy... I think he may be a friend of Rowan's or something... I saw what looked like his car parked across the street. See, the other day, Ro was over at the house with Jeremy and I, and this guy knocked on the door, and I answered it and it was him, and he wanted to see Rowan, but he looked all weird and kinda crazy, so I said she wasn't there, and he stalked off and got in his car and it looked just like this one," he says in a breathless rush. "When exactly did this happen? Do you know this guy's name?" Bayliss asks intently. "Um... let's see... today's Thursday... it was Tuesday. This past Tuesday. And no, I don't know his name, but she might. He drives a black Mustang, one of those new ones you see all over the place. He has the windows tinted real dark, too. It makes the car look like it's all one color from bumper to bumper." "You wouldn't happen to know the license plate would you?" Pembleton asks rather rhetorically: no one ever knows a license plate number; such information is far too helpful. "Yeah, 'course. That's how I knew it was his car: the license plate says 'Mr. Clean.'" Bayliss looks up from where he is writing quite suddenly. "'Mr. Clean'?" he questions. "Has Rowan or Jeremy ever mentioned someone named John Patterson to you, Mr. Bryant?" "Uh... oh yeah, John... he's their cleaning guy or something. He and Jeremy were kinda friends or something. I never met him, though." Bayliss and Pembleton share a glance that says, "Let's get Rowan Logan back in here about this Patterson guy." Bayliss stands and motions for Alan Bryant to do the same. "Thank you, Mr. Bryant. Why don't you go wait where you were before, and we'll call you again if we need you, ok?" "Yeah... but... I got work. My boss'll be pissed." "We'll take care of your boss for you, Mr. Bryant," Pembleton says, leading him back to the aquarium before going to fetch Rowan Logan from the break room. End part 4/8