Work Text:
It had been Sally's first case as a detective. It was a hard case, hard to deal with finding each ten year old girl dead and shoved so mercilessly into a trash bag. It tested one's mettle to go through the photos and the evidence, to draw conclusions about the killer and still not be any closer to finding him. It was even harder recognizing that when he was finally caught it wasn't actually the police who had brought him in. The police were just given the credit for it.
The D.A.'s office had brought in a special prosecutor for the case. She was generally a private attorney and often took pro bono work defending gutter rats arrested for petty thefts and robberies. Her record was impressive for one so young and just starting out. There were rumors circling about her ties to the mafia, and the underground almost mythological ruling class of mobsters known as the Numbers. It seemed like such fairytale stuff, and then Sally had the opportunity to meet Josephine Une for the fist time.
The meeting between Une, acting as a special prosecutor for the D.A., and the defense seemed unnecessary. The case was open and shut, but the defense seemed to have an ace up his sleeve that Sally hadn't really counted on. She watched from behind the one way glass as the monster in the orange jumpsuit grinned and cracked his knuckles. The multiple tattoos on his body, all symbols of the number ten, making him seem even more menacing.
They had already been in the room, Une and the defense, for about five minutes. Une had come in, sat down, and had begun reading the case file, raising a finger every time the defense tried to initiate conversation. Finally, she looked up, the reflection of the lights on her glasses giving her a sinister look.
"You want a deal, is that right?" The question was sharp.
The defense attorney cleared his throat and then said, "Yes, but if you are not willing to cooperate I'm sure the fed-"
"And, what is it that you think the federal government can do for your client?"
"My client is a key member in an-"
"Is that so?" The question interrupted paralyzing the man's tongue, and Une raised and eyebrow. She looked over at the criminal over the top of her glasses and then a small tug at the corner of her lips betrayed a mocking smile. "Where is the tenth girl?" Une asked solidly.
The defense attorney blanched. "What?"
"You're client is obsessed with the number ten. It's in his psych evaluation. Nine were found. I want to know where the tenth is, and I want to know now."
The criminal chuckled. "Who do you think you are, lady? There's no one else, 'sides I know the feds want the information I have."
"Do they?" She sat back in her chair and shut the file. "I've had a chat with some agents and I can assure you, they want nothing to do with you." She leaned forward and then stood up. "When the tenth is found, and she will be found, alive, if you are very very lucky, you will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. I promise you that."
She stepped out of the room and Sally found herself unsure of what she had just witnessed. Josephine Une entered the room and looked out on the defense attorney and his client who was in quite the rage.
"Do you really think there's a tenth girl out there?" Sally asked.
"There is no doubt in my mind." She turned and the look she gave, Sally wasn't sure what to do with it. "I think you can find her."
"This is really personal for you." Sally stated. "Why?"
"I grew up on the streets Detective Po. If not for a miraculous opportunity I'd probably still be there. Men like him, they think they can take girls who live on the streets, who scrape and crawl to get by, and no one will miss them. He's quite mistaken." Une said and then left the room.
Despite warnings from her superiors Sally decided to look into it. She wasn't sure why the others thought that the comment was just a tactic from the prosecution. She didn't want to know why. She had seen the corruption. She hated to think that even cops on the take would want to see such a monster out on the streets. She dove in deeper than she should have, but she found the girl.
Her investigation had taken her to an abandoned stretch of subway. The girl had been locked away in a little closet and the number ten was carved into her chest. Sally had to fight to keep herself from going into the lock up and having a private session with the beast responsible.
She went to the court room everyday to watch the trial. She watched the way Une worked the case. It was so flawless a case it would have been mad for the jury to find the defendant not guilty. The trial ended with a victory for the prosecution, sentencing would begin immediately.
"How many years do you think he'll live on appeals for a mistrial?" Sally asked leaning into a column after the press had scattered away.
Une stood just a few feet away and moved to lean on the opposite side of the column.
"Not long." Une replied.
"You seem very certain."
"I'm generally not wrong about these things." She took in a deep breath and then said, "There aren't enough good cops in this city. Do you think you can stay one?"
"What are you implying?"
"Only that there are other ways to get things done in this city." Une said softly. "You may come to understand that sooner than you'd like."
Sally watched as Une stepped off. There was a car waiting for her, but before she arrived shots rang out. Sally ignored reason and chased after the car that sped off before her senses returned enough to call for an ambulance on her radio. The world slowed around her as she raced back to Une's fallen form and her lost years as a medical student rose back into her fingers.
Much later when a number was attached to her being she questioned her actions. She wondered why no matter what she couldn't just let life slip through her fingers. Eleven still called her a good cop and Sally was never sure if it was an insult or a sign of respect. She was never sure, because once she found herself in the Numbers and she couldn't really trust Josephine Une ever again.