I don't own any of the characters in SVU, bar the original ones!

It was a night like any other in New York City. Mid-July, and the night time heat was oppressive, bearing down on the unsuspecting individual. It was a night for sitting at home with a cool drink and the air conditioning cranked right up. It was not a night for investigating murders.

"What have we got?" Odafin Tutuola asked his partner as he ducked underneath the crime scene tape.

"Nice of you to join us," John Munch replied, "hope we didn't drag you away from anything important."

"You know me, I'm a beer and football kinda guy," Fin replied.

"Yeah, right," John replied disbelievingly, "Anyway, this is what we got." He led the way over to where Amelia Warner was bent over the dead body of a young woman, "She was found by a jogger about an hour ago. Looks like she's been beat up pretty bad."

Fin looked down at the victim. She couldn't have been more than eighteen, wearing a pink top and not much else. Her pants and panties had been ripped off and were lying a few feet away, and the pool of congealed blood underneath her long blonde hair indicated she had been hit over the head. He felt an overwhelming sense of pity. She was someone's kid after all.

"I'd estimate she died at least six to eight hours ago," Warner said, straightening up, "Looks like one blow to the back to the head, but I can't be sure until I get her on the table."

"Raped?" Fin asked, as if he needed to.

Warner nodded, "Looks that way. Bruising on the inner thighs. And blood," she grimaced, "He was rough with her."

"Murder weapon?" Munch pointed to a bloody brick lying next to the body.

"More than likely."

"Weapon of convenience," Fin mused.

"Hey guys!" One of the crime scene techs came hurrying up, holding a black purse, "Found this in the bushes. Cell, wallet and keys still inside."

"So it wasn't a robbery then," Munch commented wryly.

"No, it's worse," the tech said, a note of excitement pervading his tone, "You'll never guess who she is."

"Surprise me," Munch said.

"Felicity Charles. You know, Roger Charles's daughter?"

"The airline guy?" Fin asked. The tech nodded, "Wasn't he supposed to be hosting some big party at the Waldorf tonight?"

Munch nodded, "So what was Felicity doing out here in the middle of the night?" he turned to his partner, "and why didn't Daddy report her missing?"

Fin shrugged, "Maybe he was too busy raising money."

SSSSSS

"She was definitely raped," Warner told them a few hours later. Felicity lay on the table in the autopsy room, a sheet pulled up over her naked body, her blonde hair the only splash of colour against her lifeless face. "I found semen. Your perp didn't bother to use a condom."

"Have you run it yet?" Munch asked.

"No matches in the system. Your boy's a first timer."

"Maybe not a first time murderer," Fin said, "What else did you find?"

"Bruising on her upper arms, indicating she was held down. Also, fibres under her fingernails, most likely from his clothes. She put up one hell of a struggle before he beat her over the head."

"With the brick?"

Warner nodded, "Yeah, the blood on the brick matches Felicity's. She was struck from behind at an angle."

"She was running away?" Munch volunteered.

"No, I don't think so," Warner pulled up the sheet to reveal Felicity's knees, "There was gravel embedded on her knees. Looks as though she was kneeling down in front of him."

"Sounds ritualistic," Fin said.

"Whatever it was, he knew what he was doing," Warner said grimly.

SSSSSS

Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler arrived at the Charles family home to find the place in utter chaos. People were running around everywhere, the media were already camped outside, and CSU were going through Felicity's room. Roger Charles and his wife Georgina were sat in the plush living room, clearly distressed by what had happened.

"Mr and Mrs Charles?" Olivia asked softly, "I'm Detective Benson, this is my partner Detective Stabler. We're so very sorry for your loss."

"Do you know who did it yet?" Roger Charles asked, his face creased with distress.

"We're still investigating," Olivia said, sitting down opposite them, "Can you tell us about last night?"

Mr Charles sighed heavily, "We were at the Waldorf hosting our annual charity function. Felicity was there with her sister at eight when we were greeting guests, but…" he tailed off, "but we didn't see her again after that." He let out a painful cry, "We should have been watching her."

"Did Felicity talk to anyone at the party?"

"Everyone," Mrs Charles supplied, "She was always so friendly and open to everyone. People used to comment on how she should be on TV."

"Did she have any friends there with her?" Elliot asked.

"Samantha. Samantha Baxter," Mrs Charles replied, "Felicity brings her to all our parties. She doesn't come from a very good home and Felicity always liked to share the limelight with Samantha whenever she could." She started crying again, "Who would do this to our baby?"

"May we speak to your other daughter?" Olivia asked.

Mr Charles nodded, "Vanessa's in her room. Upstairs, third door on the left. She's been devastated by this too."

The detectives left the Charles' in the capable hands of the family liaison unit and made their way upstairs to Vanessa's room. When they knocked and entered, they found Vanessa sitting on her bed, holding onto a teddy bear.

"Hi there," Olivia said, "I'm Olivia and this is my friend Elliot. You're Vanessa right?" The girl nodded, "How old are you?"

"Eleven."

"You were at the party with your sister?" Vanessa nodded, "Did you spend the whole night with her?"

Vanessa shook her head, "She didn't want me hanging around with her all night. She wanted to hang out with Sam and the guys."

"What guys?" Elliot asked.

Vanessa shrugged, "I don't know their names. They're Felicity's friends from college."

"How many were there?"

"Three," she replied.

"And, can you tell us anything about them?" Olivia asked.

Vanessa thought hard, "One of them had a beard and he smelt funny."

"Funny how?"

"Like horses."

Olivia scribbled that down, "What about Samantha? Was she with Felicity the whole night?"

"They were talking with the guys for a long time and then they just left."

"Did your parents know they had gone?"

"No, they were too busy talking to their friends." Vanessa clutched her teddy tighter, "Is whoever killed Felicity going to come back for me?"

"No sweetheart," Olivia reassured her, "Nobody is going to come and get you. I promise."

SSSSSS

"So, what do we have?" Cragen asked, when all four were back at the station.

"We've got Felicity, murdered under the bridge," Fin said, pinning up a picture on the board, "First she was raped, violently…"

"Then Warner reckons she was forced to kneel in front of her attacker to let him bash her brains in," Munch added.

"What did the parents say?" Cragen asked.

"They only saw Felicity at the start of the evening," Olivia relayed, "After that…"

"They were too busy schmoozing," Elliot finished for her, "Vanessa Charles says that Felicity and this Samantha Baxter were whispering away all night with three unidentified guys."

"One of whom smelled like a horse," Olivia said.

"Sounds like my ex-wife," Munch said.

"Which one?" Fin asked.

"All of them."

"Did Ma and Pa know who the guys were?" Cragen asked.

Olivia shook her head, "The only person they remember Felicity asking to bring was Samantha. We checked with security, but unfortunately, entrance to the party was not strictly controlled."

"An important event like that and they don't know who's coming or going?" Cragen echoed in disbelief.

"Apparently so. The hotel says that it was a private security firm that was hired for the night, nothing to do with them."

"Of course, deny all liability," Cragen sighed, "Ok, Munch, Fin, go talk to Samantha Baxter, see if she can shed any light on our smelly friends. Elliot, Olivia, go over to the security firm and ask them about the party. Someone must have seen something."

SSSSSS

When Samantha Baxter opened the door to her apartment, the first thing Munch and Fin noticed was the bruise on her face. She positioned her body between the doorframe and the door, clearly reluctant to let them in.

"Yes?"

"Samantha Baxter?" Fin asked, holding up his badge. She nodded, "I'm Detective Tutuola, this is Detective Munch. Can we talk to you?"

"What about?"

"How about the fact your best friend was murdered last night and you were one of the last people to see her?" Munch asked. "Can we come in?"

Samantha opened the door wider and allowed them to come in. The apartment looked like that of a typical student. Clothes and books lying everywhere, dirty dishes piled up in the kitchen sink.

"You like it tidy, don't you?" Fin remarked sarcastically.

"What do you want to know?" Samantha asked, ignoring the comment.

"Let's start with who was with you and Felicity at the party last night," Munch said.

"No-one, it was just the two of us. And Vanessa."

"That's not what she says," Fin said, "According to her, you and Felicity were hanging around with three guys all night."

"One of whom smelled like a horse," Munch added.

Samantha looked uncomfortable, "I don't know who they are. Felicity brought them. They're her friends from college."

"You and Felicity, you're doing the same course, right?" Munch asked, "Business management, or something equally highbrow." Samantha nodded, "So how come she's got friends you don't know?"

"We're not joined at the hip," she shot back, "we're allowed to see other people."

"So when these guys showed up last night, Felicity didn't even bother to introduce you?" Fin asked.

Samantha thought for a moment, "I think one of them was called Al, or something."

"Or something?"

"I don't know, I was drunk!"

"Is that how you got that bruise?" Munch looked at her over his glasses.

Her fingers instantly went to her face, "I walked into a door."

Munch sighed, "You know how many times we hear that in the space of a few days? Someone gave you a smack, now who was it? One of the guys at the party?"

"I told you," Samantha looked at him defiantly, "I walked into a door."

"Yeah, and I'm Diane Sawyer."

SSSSSS

At the security firm, 'Pete's Protectors,' Elliot and Olivia were having just as little success. The men who had been assigned to the party the previous night were mysteriously absent from work and no-one seemed to have any clue as to where they were. Finally, after being stonewalled for the best part of twenty minutes, Pete Davis, the owner, agreed to see them.

"What can I do for you detectives?" he asked, showing them into his office.

"We've been standing around for nearly a half hour already Mr Davis, so don't insult our intelligence by pretending you don't know why we're here," Elliot replied, with his ever pleasant smile, "The Charles' party."

"Ah, yes," Pete said, sitting down behind his desk, "I heard on the news that their daughter was murdered. Terrible thing."

"Your helpful employees told us that you had three guys working security last night," Olivia flicked through her notebook, "Johnny O'Reilly, Mark Watson and Ricky Brown, is that correct?"

"I'll have to check my records," Pete stalled.

"Please do," Elliot encouraged him.

He flipped through a book, "Yes, those were the men I assigned for the job."

"Three guys isn't a lot for a big benefit party like the Charles'," Olivia observed, "Do you always do their security?"

"No, no this was the first time."

"And why did they pick you?"

Pete shrugged, "I got a call from Mr Charles personal assistant to say that I had been recommended by a friend of the families and that they would like to book me for the evening."

"Which friend?" Elliot asked.

"I have no idea."

"You do a lot of work for the rich and famous?"

Pete shrugged again, "From time to time."

"So, surely you must have an idea of who might have recommended you."

Pete stood up, "As much as I'd like to help you Detectives, I really can't go around giving out my client lists without seeing a warrant."

"Can we speak with Mr O'Reilly, Mr Watson and Mr Brown?" Olivia asked.

"If you can find them, by all means."

"Your staff said they hadn't shown up this morning."

"That's correct."

Elliot frowned, "That doesn't strike you as odd?"

"Believe me Detective, nothing those three do would ever strike me as odd."

SSSSS

"What did he mean by that?" Munch asked as they relayed the story.

"No idea," Olivia replied, "He clammed right up after that, said he had an important consultation to go to. How did you get on with Samantha?"

"Well she claims she has no idea what Vanessa's talking about regarding the three guys," Fin said, pouring himself a coffee, "And she's sporting a nice shiner."

"Which she claims she received from an irate door," Munch added wryly. "But she was definitely hiding something. She couldn't get us out of there fast enough."

"So, we've got Vanessa, putting three guys at the scene with Felicity and Samantha, Samantha claiming there was no-one, and the three guys assigned from the security company have gone AWOL." Olivia said. "Connection?"

"Vanessa would have said if the men she saw had been security," Elliot said.

"But if they were wearing tuxedos, they probably blended right in," Olivia countered, "How would an eleven year old know the difference?"

"Doesn't the Waldorf have CCTV?" Munch asked.

"Sure, but not in the function suite," Elliot replied.

"Yeah, but the security guys, and everyone going in and out of that party must have been caught on tape at some point."

"I'll call CSU" Olivia said, "Get them to check all the tapes from last night. Did we hear back from them regarding Felicity's room?"

"Nothing suspicious, except some condoms," Elliot said, reading out the report, "Well, she was eighteen after all."

"Mom and Dad never mentioned a boyfriend," Olivia said.

"Maybe they don't know," Fin offered, "wouldn't be the first rich chick to have a bad boy on the side that the folks wouldn't approve of."

"You talking from experience?" Munch asked.

"I wish," Fin replied.

Cragen came out of his office, "We have a slight problem."

"What?" Olivia asked.

"Because of the nature of the crime and the fact that Felicity Charles is the kid of one of New York's wealthiest families, the police commissioner was called before the Senate Committee on Crime this morning. They want the case turned over to the FBI."

"FBI?" Elliot said, "What the hell for? They think they could solve it any faster than we could?"

"Whoa, whoa, hang on," Cragen held up his hands, "The Commissioner's not stupid, and he happens to be an old friend of mine, so he gave as good as he got."

"He'd have to," Munch said, "Senator Richard Whelan is the head of that committee and he's got a bee in his bonnet about rape homicides."

"Well, they came to an agreement of sorts," Cragen continued, "Turns out, Whelan's daughter, Cassandra, is a cop with Brooklyn SVU, with a direct line to the old man himself and pretty much a large helping of his father's aims and endeavours, so…" he paused for breath, "She's coming to join us in the investigation."

"Great," Elliot threw down the papers he was holding, "Just what we need. Some politician's kid coming in here, messing up our case and running back to report to Daddy every ten minutes."

"This is the compromise, take it or leave it. We don't accept, we lose the case altogether," Cragen informed his detective, "Now, when Detective Whelan gets here, you're all going to treat her just like any other cop. Remember, she's already one of us." He turned and headed back to his office.

"We might as well pack up and go home," Munch said.

"Who is this Whelan guy anyway?" Fin asked.

"Don't you watch CNN?" his partner asked.

"I got better things to do with my evenings."

"He's a political heavyweight who thinks the city's rotten to the core with criminals," Munch replied, "He ran for the presidency a few years back but Clinton saw him off. When his daughter joined the force, the rumour was that she was some kind of plant."

"Plant?"

"Yeah, she got promotion to detective two years after signing up and right into a plum job in Homicide. Few years later, she's in SVU, feeding Daddy all the gory details about the terrible cancer in our society. Most of Whelan's statements and decisions within the committee are said to come from little Cassandra's insider information."

"We can't let her turn this case into a political sideshow," Elliot urged.

"You're the one who doesn't know her father, she'll probably latch onto you," Munch warned his partner.

"Don't worry," Fin said, "I ain't gonna let that happen."