Broken

Internal Affairs

"I hate this." I sighed sitting in my car down the street from the precinct.
"I know you do. This is the smart play, you know it is." Gil answered.
"Do we really know that?"
"Malcolm thinks it is."
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
"And I can't be in there because...?"
"Because if the internal affairs psychiatrist sees you it'll throw a wrench in things."
"Because I'm the only one in the state of New York that internal affairs answers too."
"Right. Have some faith in him, Lily."
"I do have faith in him." I sighed again hanging up watching the tall man with thinning blond hair walked up the stairs in the front door.
"Malcolm, this isn't a good idea." I insisted as he tried to get dressed that morning a mere two and a half weeks after Christmas.
"The stab wound missed all of my vital organs and the fracture to my first metacarpal is healing nicely." He told me gently turning to me.
I shook my head and sighed walking over to him to help him fix his tie.
"Gil's never going to let you back into the field this soon."
"You never know unless you try." He smiled innocently at me.
"Fine, fine." I conceded.
I could feel Malcolm's excitement as we drove towards the precinct.
I walked into Gil's office while Malcolm met with Dani and JT in the conference room and sat down on his couch with a sigh.
"You aren't supposed to be back yet, are you?" He asked looking up at me.
"No, but your message sounded urgent. Besides, I was dropping Malcolm off and I wanted to ask you something." I answered.
"What is it?" He asked concern coloring his features.
I chuckled involuntarily.
"Will you walk me down the aisle at our wedding?" I asked looking up at him.
"That shouldn't even be a question, Lily. Of course I will." He smiled back at me standing up and walking around to hug me.
"Now what I have to say is much less pleasant. Watkins didn't sign the confession." He told me.
"Of course not. Did he at least write it?" I asked.
"You knew he wouldn't sign it?"
"I suspected it. It'll take more than one sit down to break someone like John Watkins." I sighed.
Gil walked back over to his desk and picked up a thick file.
"It's forty three pages." He said handing it to me.
"Of course it is. Martin has been behind bars for twenty years and I believe John was killing before they met. John was born in late 1962 which would have made him eighteen in 1980, not to say of course that he wasn't killing before he became an adult, but I'd say we have a minimum of forty years of murders to detail." I sighed opening the folder.
"Wait..." He said looking at me suddenly.
"Did you say Bright's here?"
I nodded with a small knowing smile.
"Absolutely not." Gil told Malcolm as we stood outside the precinct.
"Gil, please, I need a case." Malcolm almost begged.
"What you need is a leave of absence." Gil insisted glancing at me as I leaned against the building.
"I told you, I'm fine."
"Fine? Watkins tortured you."
I could hear the pain in his voice when he said the world out loud.
"And I emerged unscathed!"
I glared over at him.
"Well, scathed. Moderately scathed." He amended catching my glare.
"You're going home, Malcolm. Rest, recuperate. That's an order." Gil insisted.
"Come on, Malcolm." I reached for his hand.
We drove in relative silence back to his apartment.
"I told you it was too soon." I scolded him lightly as he unlocked the door.
"Mr. Bright, to bed. Now." A tall woman in scrubs said in a strong German accent.
"Why is there a scary German lady in your apartment?" I whispered instinctively moving my body in between them.
"Thank you, Ilsa, though I should warn you. My son does not respond particularly well to direction. Lily! How lucky Malcolm is to be surrounded by this army of nurturing women." Jessica exclaimed happily.
"Mom, did you make a new friend?" Malcolm asked touching my shoulder.
"Ilsa is my little homecoming gift. She can run your baths, administer your meds and prepare your meals until you have sufficiently recovered."
"Mom, I don't need anyone..."
"She also competed in the German judo team in the '92 Olympics. Should you have one of your more unruly nightmares."
"I have placed fresh sheets on your bed and warmed them with a hot water bottle. Would you prefer whiskey or bourbon in your hot toddy?" Ilsa asked him.
"Uh, whiskey. Thank you." He looked at me.
"Go on. I'll be right there." I smiled at him.
"Jess, a word."
"So, how is he, really?"
"Jessica. We don't need a nurse."
"You can't be here all the time." She argued.
"I don't need to be. Malcolm is an adult."
"My son sleeps in chains, subsists on sparkling water and licorice, and can barely take care of a parakeet."
"He slept in chains, there is nothing wrong with sparkling water and licorice, and he takes care of Sunshine just fine." I countered.
"He is your son but he's also my fiancé. He's healing and he's going to be okay."
"You can't really think that going back to work so soon is a good idea?"
"Of course not and I told him as much before we went out there this morning."
"Something happened between Malcolm and Watkins underground. Something more than he will admit."
To you... I thought. I knew Malcolm and I knew he'd told me everything that happened in that basement. I also knew that he didn't want to tell his mother.
"He has been through a lot, and while I'm sure he enjoyed his alcoholic beverage with his pain killers it really is time for you both to leave."
"Fine." Jessica said with an exaggerated sigh.
"Ilsa, let's go."
I sighed after she shut the door resting my head in my hand.
"She means well, Lily." Malcolm told me gently when I sat down next to him in the bed.
"I know she does. I just can't help but feel like she doesn't think I can take care of you."
"I don't need anyone to take care of me." He sighed.
"You're thinking about going on that case, aren't you?"
"What case?" He feigned innocence.
"The one Dani's voice just answered on the scanner?" I motioned over to the scanner whose volume was so low neither his mother nor the nurse could hear it.
"Please, Lily. Please." He begged.
"Fine, fine." I sighed.
Reluctantly, I drove him out to the crime scene.
"Looks like the team's back together." He announced our presence as we walked towards them.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Gil asked him but looked at me.
"Should you be back at work?" JT echoed.
"Bright! You're back! Seven abdominal stitches and a fracture to your first metacarpal, and you still look great." Edrisa exclaimed drawing my gaze.
"I might have pulled his medical records. I was worried. But you're here now." She smiled at him.
"We are here. So let's go take a peek at this body?"
Gil motioned Malcolm forward.
"I thought we talked about this." Gil asked me.
"If I didn't bring him he was going to sneak out of the apartment. Would you rather I be here to watch out for him or not?"
Gil shook his head and walked away.
"This graveyard is under control of the Department of Corrections. Inmates dig the trenches." JT explained as Malcolm looked around the scene.
"For whom?" He asked.
"Homeless, the indigent. Anyone without families to claim the remains." Dani answered.
"Watch the dirt. They developed this land for agricultural use. The Lyme will do a number on your Gucci loafers." JT teased.
"Inmate was filling in the grave this morning, found a body that didn't belong here. Unidentified male, early 20s." Gil added.
"Cause of death?"
"Ah, bruises around the neck are consistent with strangulation. Lividity in the extremities suggests that he's been dead for at least 48 hours. And second-degree burn marks. One on each temple." Edrisa answered.
"The techs did an analysis of the footprints around the grave. Eliminated the gravediggers, but were able to isolate one. A size-14 boot."
"Well this is a professional disposal job. But the M. O. doesn't speak to a professional kill. Hit men employ a more efficient, perfunctory method. But not our size 14. This strangulation implies an unskilled, desperate murder. Unlike the burn marks, which suggest torture or intimidation. This profile is a contradiction."
"All right. Let's double back to the prisoners and try to I. D. our vic." Gil ordered.
"I'll run John Doe's fingerprints, see if he's in the system." Dani told him.
"Corrections officers claim they didn't hear anything, but..."
I watched Malcolm cautiously as he gazed off into the distance.
"What do you see?" I asked him quietly.
"It's me. When I was ten years old. But I'm dead." He whispered.
"Because of what Watkins told you?" I asked.
"I think so." He nodded.
"Come on. Let's go home for a little while." I suggested.
Reluctantly, he agreed and walked with me back to my car.
I was sitting in the kitchen trying to read Watkins' statement when Edrisa called to tell him about the autopsy.
"You want to go?" I asked cautiously.
"I do." He beamed at me.
I couldn't deny that he was much happier when he was working the case than when we weren't.
"Tristan Johnston, 21. His prints were in the system. Couple misdemeanors for shoplifting." Dani told us when we walked in.
"He was strangled, and the other injuries indicate that he was beaten severely prior. The burns remain a puzzler they predate Tristan's death by at least a week." Edrisa said.
"What do we know about the guy?" Malcolm asked.
"He was a runaway. Talked to the dad. Said Tristan lived at home outside of Atlanta, up until he went missing about a year ago. He had a, uh, credit card in his dad's name when he took off. The last charge that Tristan made before he turned off the account was $5,000 at the Vosler Institute." JT answered.
"The Vosler Institute?" Malcolm asked looking at me.
"Some kind of self-help organization, right? Books, lectures? They got a spot in Midtown?" Dani asked him.
"They also have many attributes of a cult. In fact, it's on the FBI's cult index. Was there a traumatic event in Tristan's family around the time he ran away?" I added.
"Yeah. His mother died. Lung cancer." Dani handed Malcolm the file.
"Cults prey on those with low self-worth. Schizotypal thinkers. Tristan was a loner and a perceived failure in an unhappy family life. A cult offered him a sense of belonging, a place where he could feel welcomed and validated." Malcolm continued.
"Dani, JT and I are going to interview Vosler. Try to stay out of trouble." Gil said pointedly at Malcolm.
"Gil's right, baby. We need to rest." I urged.
I could feel my own fatigue setting in.
"I just have one more idea. You rest here and I'll be back soon." He told me.
"Malcolm. This isn't a good idea." I called after him as he ran out of the morgue.
"Is he always like this?" Edrisa asked me.
"You have no idea." I answered.
I retired back to the couch in Gil's office and resumed reading Watkins' statement. I don't know how long I sat there before Gil walked in.
"You're not going to believe this." He said motioning for me to follow him.
"You did what?" I asked after Malcolm explained his trip to The Vosler Institute.
"You could've gotten yourself killed." Gil added.
"I didn't, but I can't say the same for Andi. We need to arrest Quentin Vosler before she ends up like Tristan." Malcolm insisted looking at me.
"How am I supposed to get a warrant? All we've got is your eyewitness account and-and whatever this is. The brass knows what went down with Watkins, Bright. They'll think you're nuts." Gil explained.
I watched his eyes widen as he looked out the conference room window. Suddenly, he stood up and rushed out of the room.
"Tell me what you did with Andi!" He exclaimed attempting to charge at a man I didn't recognize.
"Mr. Bright?" The man asked as JT held him back.
"Where is Andi?" He yelled again as I inserted myself between them.
"I don't know. That's why I'm here. She was taken by them."
"Malcolm, calm down." I insisted.
"Gil!"
"Right this way Mr. Vosler." Gil lead the man back into his office.
"He's going to kick you off this case if you aren't careful." I cautioned my love.
"I'm right, Lily. I know I am." He locked eyes with me.
I knew that look. There was no shaking him off of this now.
"You'll be lucky if I let you out of my sight again, my electro-love." I teased lightly.
"I'm here because I fear for the safety of my members." Vosler pleaded with Gil.
"The only thing they're afraid of is you." Malcolm interrupted.
"It has been suggested that my institute shares some of the characteristics of a cult. Now, the van that took Andi was identified by my members. I don't know his name, but we've had run-ins with this man in the past. He would call Andi's kidnapping an 'extraction.'"
"You're talking about a deprogrammer. They save cult victims. Reunite families with their loved ones." I thought out loud.
"Save them? He re-traumatizes them. Undoes all my good work, and now, with Tristan, he's escalated to murder." Vosler snapped at me.
"Deprogrammers have questionable methods, but that doesn't make them killers. Do you have any idea who hired the deprogrammer?" Malcolm growled watching him look at me.
"Andi's late mother was American. Her father is a Spanish national. He owns a manufacturing firm in Barcelona, and he would spend any amount of money to get Andi back."
"Deprogrammers cater to wealthy families determined to reclaim their wayward children. I know someone who can help." Malcolm looked at me.
I sighed. I knew exactly whom he was referring to.
Less than a half an hour later we were in Jessica's living room where she'd set up meetings with various deprogrammers.
"She gave that boy everything she had, and he joins a cult? I mean, how hard is it to accept a trust fund, settle down, and pop out a few grandchildren?" She looked pointedly at Malcolm.
I shook my head when Malcolm looked at me.
"Tell me about yourself, your work." She asked our last deprogrammer.
"Well, it starts with extraction. Pick 'em up, pull 'em out. Then comes debriefing. These kids are all brainwashed. I can snap 'em out of it." Curtis Marsh answered.
Malcolm smiled at me.
"Mr. Marsh, a few more people outside would love to chat with you, too." He told him.
"You got nothing." Marsh spat at Gil when we got him back to the precinct.
"We got your boots. They're a match to the prints we found at the crime scene. That's enough to hold you for 24 hours." Gil smirked at him.
"Tell us where Andi is." Malcolm pushed causing Marsh to slam his fists on the table.
"Easy." JT warned snapping his fingers.
Watching JT defend him was relieving, honestly. It reminded me that I wasn't the only one that had his back.
"Should've known this was a setup. How'd you find me?" Marsh pushed ignoring Malcolm.
"You come highly recommended." Malcolm spat.
"Because I get results."
"Results like murder? Tristan Johnston left Vosler. He didn't need your help getting out." JT asked.
"Everyone needs a little help from time to time. That's the job."
"But this job was tougher than usual. That big, important client wanted Andi back, and you couldn't deliver. You needed to get to Andi, so you tortured Tristan." Malcolm guessed.
"But then something went wrong. You lost control, you strangled him. Next thing you knew, Tristan was dead." Gil added.
"What kind of a deprogrammer allows himself to lose control?" Malcolm asked him.
It was clear after that that Marsh wasn't going to give us anything else. He was obviously the killer but it didn't tell us where he'd taken Andi or if she was even still alive.
"I'm going to step out for some air. Join me?" I asked Malcolm after a few more hours of listening to him go over the profile again and again.
"No. I'm going to run it through one more time." He smiled at me.
I leaned over and kissed him before walking outside.
I sat down on the front steps letting the cold January air soothe my tired mind.
I wasn't outside more than five minutes when my phone rang.
"Russell?" I answered.
"You need to get in here. Something's happened." Dani's voice sounded frantic then she hung up.
I rushed into the precinct after Dani's frantic phone call and found her banging on a conference room door.
"Bright? Bright! Open the door."
I gripped her shoulders and moved her slightly before banging on the door.
"Malcolm. It's Lily. Open the door baby." I called.
Suddenly, the power surged and the lights went out.
"Malcolm!" I called his name again.
He opened the door and looked at me.
"I know who the deprogrammer is."
"What the hell happened?" I asked sitting across from Malcolm in Gil's office.
"I can explain everything. You just have to trust me."
Now, I sat in my car waiting impatiently for the conclusion of the internal affairs review and only able to hope Malcolm was right.
I pulled up the CCTV footage of the fight between Malcolm and Gil.
"Now it's really time to go home." Gil walked up to the desk he was working on not a minute after I walked out of the room.
"A cult deprogrammer must be skilled, have an understanding of the complex psychology of mind control. Curtis is the muscle, not the brains. Otherwise, he never would have killed Tristan. There's someone above Curtis, the real deprogrammer. They're controlling everything."
"I was right from the beginning. You're in no state to work a case."
"I've been working this case."
"I brought you onto the team because you're the best at what you do, Bright, but not when you get like this."
"'Like this'? I'm 'like this' because of Martin Whitly, because of John Watkins, because of you."
"What?"
"You asked for my help. You knew I couldn't say no, and you brought them all back into my life. You did that. You started this."
"Get the hell out of my precinct."
"Gil, no."
The three of us would need to have a serious conversation when all this was over.
I looked up and watched Malcolm, Dani, and JT rush out of the precinct.
"He was right. The internal affairs doctor was in fact the deprogrammer." I said sitting down on Gil's couch.
"You've got to admit it was a good play." Gil smiled at me.
"It was. An elaborate set up to allow for Malcolm to build his profile discreetly and proving his theory."
"Shocking him with a ECT in the chest after he pulled a gun on him." Gil added.
"What... You know what, I don't even want to know." I shook my head.
After a moment of silence I took a deep breath.
"I watched the video of the argument." I told him gently.
"Lily..."
I raised my hand to stop him.
"I'm going to speak freely then I'm going to go home with Malcolm and let you make whatever decision you want to." I told him sitting down on his couch
"Well, I can't stop you so..." He gestured for me to continue.
"I'm not here to defend what Malcolm said. I'm here to remind you that he's not wrong."
I raised my hand when he tried to interrupt me.
"What did you say to me when you called me that night in September?" I asked.
Gil just looked at me.
"You told me that you'd brought him into this case and you weren't sure it was a good idea anymore. Malcolm hadn't seen his father in ten years before we went out there to solve that case. Tell me that you think that Watkins would have found him if he hadn't started working for the NYPD."
"You know I don't think that." He sighed.
"Of course I do. I know that it didn't so much upset you that he said those things but because you know he's right. Two and a half weeks ago, Malcolm was held in his own basement and none of us knew where he was. He was scared and alone but he fought and he saved himself. He relives what happened over that twenty to twenty four hours of his captivity every night. He screams out in his sleep even when I'm lying next to him. I watch the fear in his eyes every morning as he wonders if he really is like them. Nothing I say is going to fix that for him. He needs time and while I agree that it's probably too early for him to be back to work; he doesn't need you dismissing him when you realize he isn't any good to you."
"Now wait a minute." He started.
"When was the last time you were over?" I asked.
"When was the last time you called just to check on him? I'm not saying I don't get it. I do. This job is stressful and sometimes there isn't a moment to think. Have you even asked him how he is? How he's healing? You didn't ask me when I was in your office yesterday. I saw your concern when I said I had something to ask but you didn't ask me if I was okay or how I was doing. He's broken, Gil. He needs support and acceptance and in his mind you shut him out because of something he didn't do. He didn't do anything wrong. He was abducted. Shannon probably died in front of his eyes. He found out that his father took him on that camping trip to kill him. He stabbed a man at ten years old to protect himself from being murdered then that man abducted him and stabbed him in exactly the same way and the one man he thought loved him cut him out because he's not okay."
"I do love him!"
"Don't tell me. Tell him. Talk to him. Hear what he said and what he didn't. He loves you, Gil. You know that but this? This isn't all on him. You have to know that too. He's scared and he feels alone and unworthy. I can't be the only one reminding him who he is."
Gil followed us back to his apartment. I nodded to Malcolm and walked upstairs to take a shower while they sat down for a drink.
"I got to ask a question, Bright."
"Can I stop you?"
"Nope. Are you okay? You freaked out Dani pretty good."
"I'm f.. No. I don't think I am."
"You would've gone through with it, wouldn't you? If you hadn't found that pill bottle you would have shocked yourself."
"I'm not sure. Lily's voice helped." Malcolm sighed deeply.
"Okay."
"Wait. How is that okay?"
"It's not. But you know that you're not okay, so that makes it okay."
"I'm not exactly following."
"You need a vacation. Someplace with a beach. I know it's not easy for you to slow down, Malcolm, but I want you to try. Take Lily, go hop on a yacht or a helicopter or whatever else they're doing on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous."
"That's... that's totally not a show anymore."
"That's a shame. I don't want to see either of you around the precinct for two weeks, you hear me?"
"Loud and clear. Hey, Gil. I was wrong. It's not because of you. I'm sorry."
"I know, kid. I know."
I smiled and leaned against the wall.