xfc: NEW: Seisdeadh 16 of 25
Indig...@aol.com
despite loathing The X-Files and believing fanfic to be
a form of insanity, kindly gave her time to divide and
post this when I couldn't. She already has my thanks,
but I'd like to extend them here to Deirdre & dbKate
who made similar offers of help. Thanks too, to all the
people who've taken the time to be kind over the
past few days. I appreciate it more than I can adequately
express, and as soon as I do have the time, I'll reply
to everyone.
***************************
Disclaimer and all other relevant info in Part 0
Seisdeadh. Part 17
Frohike and Langly had been hunched over their
respective keyboards when he'd arrived, still
searching.
"What have you got for me?"
Byers had gestured toward a printer and surprisingly
few pages laying in its tray.
"That's it?" He hadn't intended his voice to sound
as critical as it undoubtedly had and he heard
Langly hiss and mutter 'Told you we should have
waited to call him', so raised up his hand in a
placatory gesture.
"I'm sorry. It's not a criticism. I was just
hoping..."
"Yeah well this is real life, Mulder," Langly barked.
"It's not some TV show. We can't just tap a few
buttons and find the answers to any and everything
in a few seconds."
"I know." He'd given a quick, tight smile, waiting
until Langly shrugged his acceptance of the apology
inherent in the brief gesture, before speaking again.
"So what *have* you got?"
Frohike spun round on his seat. "Name. But I told
you that. That was relatively easy once we managed
to get in and run the prints. He's been arrested
twice. The most recent's the giveaway. This is
definitely the guy you're after." Mulder raised a
questioning eyebrow, and Byers stepped forward to take
over the narrative.
"He was charged with three cases of homicide, one of
attempted, in September '98. We're still trying to
get a transcript from the actual trial and all we've
got so far just comes from newspaper reports. We've
identified the first two victims and the attempted,
but the third's eluding us. Seems to match your...er..."
He waved his hand about, some non definable gesture.
"Your pattern though. First two were men. The
survivor a woman and..."
"Escaped or acquitted?" Mulder interrupted. "I mean,
given that that was only seven months ago, it's one
or the other right?"
He was hoping for escaped. An escaped convict meant
a wanted man and so regardless of whether he could get
anyone to believe that he had Scully, any clue as to
his whereabouts would have to be officially pursued.
Byers shattered the fragile hope though.
"Acquitted."" He shrugged almost in apology, appearing
to understand the brief flash of disappointment in
Mulder's eyes. "It made us wonder if he was your guy,
or if the prints were just some coincidence..." He
ignored Mulder's disbelieving scowl and turned to
hand him the few printed sheets. "But like I said,
by following up on the newspaper reports into the
murders of the first two victims we found that they
were both cut up..." He hesitated, a hint of the
squeamishness he'd displayed in Scully's apartment
earlier evident. "Cut up in the same sort of way
you were. The timing fits with what you were saying
earlier too. Prior to his arrest in this case, he'd
been in residential psychiatric care for 5 years.
That
was the consequence of his first arrest, when he
didn't get off. Aggravated assault."
"Against?"
Langly's voice cut across the room, informative now
rather than irritated. "On to it now. Soon as, OK?"
"Family homes? Relatives?" Trying to reign in his
impatience, remembering where that'd got him earlier
and realizing too, that they were certainly doing
their best, as fast as possible, he bit back the urge
to start issuing demands. "I need an address."
"Soon as, Mulder. Soon as."
The searching had continued, with Mulder, much to his
chagrin, relatively superfluous to its execution.
Whereas he could process the information they found,
it was not appearing rapidly enough to either hold his
attention or actually provide any sort of direction.
His tendency to hurry them along, to direct and
dictate, was obviously causing irritation despite
his attempts to suppress the impatience in his voice.
He recognized too that each of these three men had
their own particular affection for Scully, and the
lack of discernible progress was breeding in each of
them a frustration that would not stay subdued in
the face of criticism.
When he'd finally stopped pacing and hovering, sliding
his sleep deprived bones into a chair in the corner,
he fought the immediate somnolence, unable to let go
of the idea that the moment he closed his eyes that one,
vital piece of information that could lead him to Milne's
door would come in and that, in slumber, he would miss
it. The fact that they would wake him the instant that
happened refused to register. It was a losing battle
however; his body's determined need winning out over
his mind's ineffectual defense, and before too many
minutes had passed, his irregular snoring joined the
noise of keyboards clicking.
For just over five long hours he slept.
When he woke it was suddenly, almost violently. He
jerked up out of the seat, cursing and grabbing at
his neck, the muscles of which screamed their protest
at having been so inelegantly arranged far too long for
comfort. For a moment all he felt was a strange sense
of guilt, the idea that he'd been wasting time, not
paying attention, when there was work to be done
finding her.
He'd traipsed awkwardly toward where they all still
sat, stretching and rubbing aching joints as he went.
He'd gratefully grabbed at the mug Byers held out,
containing some substance that appeared to be
impersonating coffee, gulping a mouthful and then
very nearly spitting it back into the cup.
"Jesus, that tastes like crap! What is it?"
"De-caf."
"And you drink this voluntarily? No wonder you
all look like hell."
Indeed they did. They all stared at him, as bleary
eyed as he still felt, and the strange sense of guilt
he'd awoken with was usurped by weary resignation as
he saw in their almost apologetic countenances that
the address he needed was not awaiting him.
"Nothing?" he asked, expecting the question to be
rhetorical.
"Well, something," Byers told him, but shaking his head
when Mulder perked up slightly in response. "But nothing
that looks like it might tell us where she is. It's
like some jigsaw, and we're pulling out the edge pieces,
but can't get the actual picture in place."
Mulder sighed. "OK, hit me with what you have got."
"How'd you want to do this?"
"You got anything specifically relating to where I might
find him?"
They all shook their heads.
"Then just give me it from the beginning."
"OK. Once we had a name, we'd expected to just be able
to find the guy, but he's currently invisible. No credit
cards, no driving license, no property registered to him,
no job, not claiming welfare. Zilch," Langly informed
him. "It's as if he just disappeared after that court
case. We've got the bare bones of his history pretty
much mapped out until then, but at that point he just
drops off the radar."
They worked like some strangely awkward, and yet perfectly
functioning three headed machine, he thought as he
listened to them. The narrative was passed between them,
each picking up where the previous speaker ceased, handing
him relevant papers, pointing out the snippets of
information that best illustrated or emphasized what was
being said. Langly had begun.
"Kid was born in 1966, some place called Somerville.
That's near Boston. Looks as if he lived there until 1985,
or at least, we've got no alternate address for him until
then. In the interim, looks like the marriage went bad.
Dad upped sticks and moved to England. Parents divorce
registered in June '92 and the house got sold in August,
same year. Looks like mom then moved down here, and took
up residence in a property owned by a Terrence Giordano
in Falls Church. Both those properties have been sold on
since then; the Somerville house three times and the
Falls Church twice, with Giordano now living just outside
Columbia, so there's no connections there. Like we said,
father in England. Owns no property over here since the
Somerville house was sold. Mother deceased. Milne has
a much younger sister..."
"How much younger?" Mulder inquired.
"She's sixteen now. Lives in England with the father.
Paternal grandparents deceased. No other relatives on
the father's side. Mother had two sisters. One - Cheryl
Robertson, died in '81. The other, Sophie Harding, in
'87. Not a family blessed with longevity in their women
it seems, except for the possible exception of *their*
mother."
Mulder considered a moment. "Possible exception?"
"Yeah well, we haven't seen any evidence that she's dead,
but equally, none that she's alive. And it looks like
she had her kids late in life; she'd be 96 now, so we're
presuming deceased."
"Don't presume anything. Find her. Dead or alive. Please,"
he added as a conciliatory afterthought. Langly nodded,
first at Mulder then towards Frohike, inviting him to
pick up the ball.
"OK - school records. Kid wasn't a genius but wasn't
dumb either. Nothing stands out, until he suddenly drops
out at 17. Now when I first hit this, I thought I was
searching the wrong damn school records, because searching
for J Milne, his date of birth - gave me Jacqueline not
James." Frohike waved the sheet of paper he was referring
to as he paused a little whilst Mulder waited, willing to
indulge the little man in the moment of dramatic effect,
provided it was just a moment. "But it turns out there's
a James *and* a Jacqueline listed. They both just drop
off the school records at the same time. I dug a little
more. Twins - but you'd already guessed that, right?"
Mulder nodded. "And she died aged 17. Don't know how or
why yet. No record of any absences from school, so I'm
guessing no long term illness. Accident maybe? How
exactly that ties in with your guy, I don't know, except
that that's the last we see or hear of him until 1985."
Frohike glanced briefly to his left, and Byers picked
up his cue and continued the narrative. "I think we
found the Scully connection, Mulder. Where did she do
her degree?"
"Physics?" he asked and Byers nodded. "Maryland."
"That's what we thought. James Milne worked as a photo
lab technician at The University of Maryland, from '85
til '86. His employment records cease at what would
have been the same time Scully graduated."
"When she graduated? Damn!" He slammed his fist down
on the edge of the table. "Well I'm not inclined to
regard that as a coincidence. Shit! Fourteen years ago?"
He shook his head in dismay before burying his face in
cupped hands, trying to make sense of what he was hearing.
"If this is fourteen years of wanting Scully, then that's
fourteen year of planning and psychosis we've got to
defeat." He spun round suddenly, jerkily, and started
pacing, muttering unintelligible sounds as he attempted
to argue and reason with himself. "No." He shook his
head determinedly. "I don't believe that. That doesn't
fit. That might be where it started but I'm pretty damn
sure he wasn't on her tail for the years between then
and when he was committed. He'd have made *some* sort
of move during that period of time."
"No, he wasn't." Byers agreed. "We've got records of
him leaving the country almost immediately after that.
To England, possibly to live with his father? Nothing
else on him then until he gets back into the country
in '92. Three weeks later, he's arrested for assaulting
the aforementioned Terrence Giordano. His address
on the rap sheet corresponds with that of Mr. Giordano,
which also corresponds with his mother's. At that
point however, mom was very recently deceased. Same
day as the assault and arrest. According to what
we've got here, suicide. Not sure of the tie in
between that and Milne attacking Giordano but he was
charged with the assault, found guilty, but ended up
in a psychiatric hospital and not prison. There for
five years..."
Mulder interrupted again. "That's a long time. He'd
have done less in prison. Do we know why? Medical
records?"
"Uh-huh. Sorry." Langly handed him another sheet of
paper. "This is all we could get from there. Nothing
more than basic admin stuff really. Dates, names of
doctors, but nothing specific to his treatment. Have
to say, it's the easiest medical facility we've ever
hacked in to - maybe because they don't appear
to actually keep anything but the day to day crap on
computers. Looks like the actual records are hard copy."
"So, released after five years," Byers had continued.
"Three months later, he's back in custody on these
homicide charges. But he's acquitted and that's when
he just drops off the radar."
"I need the details on that. Why he got off. And
that's a request, not a criticism," Mulder added,
directing the remark at Langly, with a tight smile.
"I know you're doing everything you can guys, and
I'm grateful, really. It's just that even with all
of this, I still don't actually *know* anything that's
going to point me in his direction." He paused,
taking another swig of the revolting coffee, then
unconciously humming to himself as he pondered his
options. "OK then," he said. "We know who he is,
you're still looking for where he is...which leaves
me to figure out just what he is." Chin in palm,
he tapped his fingers against his own cheek as he
tried to organize some sort of plan in his head.
"I'm going to go to..." He flicked through the pages
he held until he found what he was looking for.
"...Oak Grove and talk to this Giordano. I can be
there and back in less than a day, and it's more
damn use than I can be sitting here. He knew the
mother, knew Milne. He's the closest thing to a
connection I can see right now. After that, there's
someone else I want to talk to. Can you get me her
address?" He pointed to the name on the page in
front of him. Frohike turned his face up in disbelief.
"You can't just turn up out the blue and hassle the
chick, Mulder. At least wait til we know what he did
to her. Besides, after he got off, I doubt she made
a point of keeping in touch y'know."
"Like I said, Frohike...you need to figure out where
he is. I'm after *what* he is." He turned up the
the sheet of hospital information that Langly had
handed him, folding it along the line he wanted to
emphasis, holding it out for Frohike's attention.
"And look," he said pointing, "...at where else her
name comes up."
Twenty minutes later, phone call made and last minute
ticket booked, he was heading out, on his way to speak
to Terrence Giordano. Assuring Byers, who had taken
on a definite Mother Hen role, that he would be sure
to eat on the plane, extracting unnecessary promises
from them that they'd keep searching and would call
him back the moment they as much as sniffed at an
address, he was ready to leave.
He turned suddenly as he reached the door.
"Can I ask you guys something? For an honest answer?"
The three of them shared a somewhat apprehensive look,
before all turning to face him and shrugging consent
almost simultaneously.
"Do you believe I'd ever hurt Scully?"
Frohike was the first to speak. "Well you can't deny
you've really pissed her off on more than a few occasions."
"No. I don't mean like that. Though I have, I mean
pissed her off - I know I have. But I mean *hurt*.
Do any of you believe I could raise my hand to her.
Hit her."
"Hell, man - she'd kick your butt but good if you even
thought about it," Langly laughed, Frohike chuckling his
agreement. Byers however didn't laugh. He stared long
and hard at Mulder, trying to make some sense of the
look in his eyes, a sort of desperate pleading that he
didn't fully understand but that he realized could not
be appeased by humor.
"No," he answered softly, stepping forward and putting
his hand on Mulder's forearm. "You'd never hurt her,
Mulder. And whether they knew about the two of you or
not, no-one with an ounce of sense would ever believe
that you'd do that."
They stood like that for almost a minute, before Mulder
nodded his head, tipping Byers' hand from his arm as
he raised his hand, pressing his fingers against his
eyes as if he could push back in the tears that suddenly
threatened to fall.
"Thank you," he almost whispered. "Thank you," and
before any of them could even think of anything else
to say, he was gone.
************************
End Part 16
Missing chapters? Go to
http://home.beseen.com/friends/indigomuse/index.html
e-mail Indig...@aol.com
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CLICK HERE AND START SAVING ON LONG DISTANCE BILLS TODAY!
http://click.egroups.com/1/4125/3/_/599222/_/960513129/
------------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
The X-Files Creative Mailing List
Archived at http://www.xemplary.com
To subscribe, go to http://www.onelist.com/subscribe/xfc-atxc
To unsubscribe, write
xfc-atxc-u...@onelist.com
Check out the XFC Feedback list
http://www.onelist.com/subscribe/xfc-fdbk
----------------------------------
Imported to ATXC courtesy of NewsGuy news service http://newsguy.com