Sorry everyone that it's been so long since I updated any of my stories. I had an operation a month ago and I haven't felt like writing until recently. Anyway, hopefully I'm out of the woods now and recovering.

Once again, thanks to everyone who has read or reviewed this chapter, especially those who have made it a favourite or added a story alert. Special thanks to all those who reviewed - Evenmoor, Afalstein, Greeniron, W.S.C. Magica De Spell and jovance.

Hopefully this chapter will have been worth the wait. Sorry it's slightly shorter than normal but it just seemed a good place to stop.

Tangled Webs

Chapter 6

Mitchell Connors Residence

Twilight had fallen when John knocked on the door of the house. He checked the street. It was empty. The cops had finished their search of the 'Burdett' residence and surrounding areas and decamped after securing the house with crime scene tape. Left to their own devices, the residents had returned to their normal evening routine and the murmur of music and T.V. programmes wafted out from the surrounding houses. This was perfect for his purpose.

The noise from Connors T.V. increased as he opened the door in response to the knock. "Detective," he said. "That S.V.U. cop was really piss…"

He did not finish the sentence as John smashed the flat of his hand against the man's ribs, sending him staggering back into the hallway. He quickly followed the man into the house, kicking the door closed behind him, then grabbed a handful of shirt front and used it to slam Connors against the wall. A nearby picture rattled in its frame as the younger man's body crashed into the brick and plaster. Connors went limp with shock and fear.

"What the hell!" He managed to say.

"You raped and murdered Kirsty." John said in a dangerously soft voice.

Connors managed to shake his head. "No, I didn't. It was Burdett." He said; his voice an octave higher than his usual tone.

John drove his fist into Connor's guts. "You raped and murdered Kirsty." He repeated, "And you tried to implicate Burdett for your crime." The smile he gave the younger man was predatory. "I know the truth. I just want to hear you admit it."

Connors doubled over gasping for breath with the force of the blow. "No, no, it wasn't me. You gotta believe me!" He finally panted out, his voice pleading. The look he gave John was scared but there was something there that gave the former C.I.A. man pause.

"You were having a relationship with her." John said. Seeing that Connors was about to deny this, he slapped him hard across the face and shook him, making his teeth rattle. The other man squealed. "Don't bother to deny it." He paused. "I can keep doing this all night if necessary. I can do worse. I can keep you conscious, every inch of your body screaming in agony, and I won't even break a sweat."

"I didn't kill her." Connors repeated. As John raised his hand again, he held up his hands in a pleading gesture. "Wait! You're right. I had sex with her that night but I didn't kill her! Please I'll tell you everything."

John considered the man. Connors' face was dripping in perspiration and his body stank with fear. In addition there was something in the younger man's tone that he recognised from countless 'enhanced' interrogations. He was broken and ready to tell the truth. It had happened much sooner than any case in his previous experience but, on the other hand, this was some low-life scum who dated under age girls and not a dedicated terrorist.

He stood back and gave the man a cool look. "All right." He said, in a conversational tone. "Let's make ourselves comfortable while you tell me what happened." He gestured towards the kitchen/diner. It was at the back of the house where they were unlikely to be seen and where he would have warning of any interruption. "After you." He invited.

S.V.U. Squad Room

Finch sat on the hard wooden bench in the cage. He was drinking water from a plastic cup and staring in disgust at the sandwich wrapped in greaseproof paper they had given him earlier. He was no longer worried about his fingerprints. They had been taken by a uniformed officer, together with mug shots before he had been escorted to this place. He felt his back and leg spasm in pain but tried to ignore it. There was no way he was going to give these people the satisfaction of asking them for pain relief. He knew, however, that the hard bench and lack of proper back support would seriously affect his mobility by the morning.

What bothered him more than mere physical pain, however, was the fact that he was no longer in control of his life, that he was totally reliant on others. On the cops to feed him and permit him visits to the rest room, on John and the others to be working on getting him out, on Detective Carter to tell him what was going on. As things had turned out, it had proved a good thing that she had taken his 'work' cell earlier as it would have been discovered when he had been searched, but his inability to influence events made him feel that he had been reduced to an infantile level. He had not felt so helpless since the moment he had woken up in triage to find that his best friend had been murdered and his own life and health destroyed by the government of their own country.

He looked up as Carter approached the bars of the cell.

"How you doing there Mr Burdett?" She asked. "Can I get you anything?" She nodded towards the untouched sandwich. "You should try to eat that. You won't get anything else to eat now until morning."

"Yes," Harold replied, ignoring her suggestion that he eat. He got up off the bench, stifling a groan as he did so, "You can get me my lawyer." He limped over to the bars until he was standing only inches away from the Detective on the other side.

"You'll be able to ring him later." Joss promised. As he approached the bars, she lowered her voice. "Ms Morgan and Leon Tao are working on getting you out and John has a lead he's following." She raised her voice again. "We'll be transferring you to the Prison Ward at Bellevue shortly so you can get access to your medication." Once again she lowered her voice. "I've got the Captain to agree that I can transport you there. I can spin out the journey some and let you have access to a phone and laptop during it, but I have to deliver you there."

Harold felt a degree of relief. The longer he was locked up, away from his information feeds and data scrubbers the more chances there were that one of the myriad of people searching for him would find something they could use to trace him. It might not be the salvation he was looking for but he could, at least, play some part in helping himself. He glanced at the clock on the wall. Twelve hours ago it had seemed like as normal a day as he ever got to experience and then everything had careered out of control. He wondered if this was how the numbers felt.

Mitchell Connors Residence

John pulled out a dining chair and pushed Connors down onto it. "OK. Talk to me." He ordered.

Connors glanced up at him. Seeing no sign of pity or compassion there he lowered his eyes and began. "Kirsty was very mature for her age…"

"I'm not interested in your attempts at justification." John interrupted. "Tell me what happened last night.

"O.K, O.K.," Connors whined. "Just don't hit me, please. Kirsty came over here after crying off the sleepover. She slipped in the back, same as she always did. She was supposed to stay all night. We had sex. Then she said she wanted to marry me as soon as she was legal. I told her that I was only just divorced and I didn't want to get tied down again anytime soon. She went ape, screamed that I only wanted her for sex and stormed out the back like Hurricane Katrina. Everything else I said is true I swear!"

John considered the man. His statement had provided a motive for killing Kirsty. How was he to know what an angry and rejected teenager would do? If she called the cops, the respectable Mr Connors would have found himself looking at a long time in prison followed by a lifetime as a registered sex offender. At the very least he could have found himself at the receiving end of a beating from an angry father and he was clearly not a physically brave man. But, there was something about the way the man had offered the information and his body language that made him believe him.

"How was she when she arrived? Did she seem upset, angry?" He asked.

Connors shook his head vigorously. "No, same as always."

"O.K. This is what you're going to do. You are going to ring the S.V.U. and you're going to tell them that you've had a crisis of conscience and want to confess to Statutory Rape. You're going to tell them everything you've told me and, this little conversation you and I have had, it didn't happen, O.K.?"

"What if I refuse?" Connors asked, showing some fight.

John smiled at him. "Then I kill you and bury your body somewhere it will never be found." He replied. "A good chance of getting a reduced sentence due to your turning yourself in and co-operating versus an eternity of being dead. Your choice."

Connors looked at him and the fight left him. His body slumped in defeat."O.K." He said.

John found the phone and brought it over. "Do you want the number?" He asked.

Inwardly he was asking himself, if Connors did not kill Kirsty, then who did? It seemed he had taken a predator off the streets but he was still no closer to freeing Harold.

Detective Carter's Car

Detective Benson stopped by the car and turned Harold around, leaving him to fold himself into the back seat as best his disability and his hands handcuffed behind him allowed.

"Sure you don't want me to ride along?" Benson asked the other female detective, who was already sitting in the drivers seat.

Cater shook her head. "No, thanks." She glanced towards Harold, who was trying to make himself as comfortable as possible and lowered her voice. "I don't think he's in a position to make any trouble and getting him one to one will be an opportunity to help rebuild my rapport with him."

Olivia Benson nodded. "O.K. Let me know when he's been processed and if he tells you anything relevant."

Carter grunted her agreement. She watched as her colleague slammed the back door shut on her prisoner, then started the engine. "See you later, 'Liv." Carter waved as she set her car in gear and drove out of the Precinct yard. Reaching the street, she pulled out into the traffic. Once she was several blocks away from the Precinct, she turned into a side street and slowed the car to a halt. She waited for several minutes, watching her rear view mirror.

"Doesn't look like we were followed." She finally said. "I kept an eye out for a tail all the way here and didn't see anything suspicious."

"Detective, please can you release me from these restraints." Harold tried to retain some dignity but he realised he was perilously close to begging.

Carter came round and opened the door. She stood for a moment, unsure about whether or not to assist the disabled computer genius to exit the vehicle. She knew that he was a proud man. Finally she decided to offer the same assistance she did for every arrested person in the same situation and allowed him to use her as support as he wriggled out and stood upright. It was not elegant and it took him longer than most people but he eventually extricated himself. Carter turned him round and, after checking they were still unobserved, unlocked the handcuffs.

Harold rubbed his chaffed wrists and stifled a groan. "Where's the laptop and cell?" He asked.

Carter nodded towards the passenger side seat. "Get in." She said. I'm going to be taking the scenic route. I figure you've got 35 to 45 minutes depending on traffic."

Harold nodded and limped around to the passenger seat. After settling in and opening the laptop he glared at it in disgust. "Where did you get this?" He asked. "This operating system is virtually obsolete!"

Carter shrugged. "It's Taylor's. Sorry I can't afford all the bells and whistles on a Detective's salary." She said.

"Once this is over, Detective, I will upgrade it for you." With a sigh, Harold put the problems with the laptop to one side and punched a number into the cell phone. "Good evening, Mr Reese. Report please." He said when the call was answered.

T.B.C.