Missouri Police Precinct, Gladstone.

Recorded.

Unsub Interview.

Name: Emile Frau.

Age: 40's

Crime: Unlawful seizure of minors. Unlawful imprisonment of minors. Resisting Arrest. Lying to law enforcement(multiple counts). Forgery of adoption papers. Two counts child endangerment and abuse.

********************

Questioning Officer: Marlena Crawford

Through her career she'd seen it all. She always thought this unsub, this brutalized person, this was the worst it could get.

But never, never could she have been prepared for Emile Frau.

By all accounts he didn't grasp it.

Even now, within formalities of interviews that were more to iron out the details of sentencing than anything else.

Emile Frau didn't seem to comprehend kidnapping two children.

So, they'd run a psych eval. as is the requirement.

Only to find that he was completely, frighteningly sane and lucid.

Lucid enough to either lie his ass off or, just built that way in some deviating amalgamation of 'normal.'

Whatever the answer, insanity defense wouldn't work.

Marlena, could not dismiss the machinations of this man and the dark shroud he's now left to mental incompetence or dysfunction.

"So you do confess? I remind you--"

"Of course Madam, anything I can and do say will be used against me in a court of law," Frau said lightly, sitting cross legged in his chair. "I appreciate that I do, just as I appreciate his parents pay your superiors and not you."

She made no minor effort in disregarding that.

The supposed sympathy sparkling in this man's eyes.

"Then confirm for me, on March 9th at 2:14 a.m. you took Abel Rossilini from his bed, from your employer, without neither their knowledge nor consent at the time."

"I suppose," he said now gazing distantly to the window at the side again, "yes. You could see it as 'taking.'"

"I see it as a pre-meditated, passionate attempt at long-term imprisonment of a minor."

"Well then I suppose that would depend on the minor wouldn't it?" he challenged, and for the rise of a dark, chilling tinge in his figure, Emile Frau retained a kindly disposition.

"Abel repeatedly tried to leave you."

"He did and he didn't. As I've said repeatedly, he's a clever one and call it unorthodox but I had to stimulate him somehow," Frau shrugged, "it was a game we played and he understood that. I have never lied."

And she could believe him. From his gesturing, to his gaze, right down to his flippant attitude... this man was no seasoned, meticulous liar. For all the world, he was in fact playing games and 'saving' children.

This man, the abductor, loves Abel Rossilini.

"Well, then I suppose all that's left of the matter is why."

"Pardon." He snapped to stare her right in the eyes when she sat down.

Marlena cringed at being unable to keep the pain in her temples at bay.

This man certainly had a soothing nature to him. Having interviewed him for hours on end and going in circles before he'd "taken pity on her for so much sincere effort," and that burned. It gave her vital data in how he'd been able to keep those children's wits on a tether.

"Why do it? The whole thing, the Japanese would call it 'playing house.'"

Albeit a more twisted version.

"Well now you couldn't have asked that first?" her suspect tsked.

She plowed on, "from the start the victims were allowed access to weapons, amenities, all manner of lockpicking tools and magicians tricks, you took them on excursions and by their own accounts they were not threatened with violence or isolation, not starvation, or beratement. You trusted them to prep meals, be with you while you would sleep and move about the house freely... none of that quite says kidnapper. Despite the otherwise impeccable job you did of disappearing."

"Well yes and no. Abel, Abel was my first so maybe I gave him more leeway than someone in place would have. There was always a special place in my heart just for him." And without fanfare, without middle ground... Frau changed. Expression now cold and words an acidic spit, "besides, he wasn't being cared for properly. Not in the least."

June 1st.

Interview File: 2

Emile Frau: Initial Statements.

"That night, there was no struggle involved. You expect me to believe the child slept through all that, well until you came to the highway."

"Simply amazing isn't it? How the body innately trusts those it knows protects it? Though I wouldn't blame you, Abby puts up such walls but he really is a sweet boy."

***********************

Such a sweet boy. Sleeping so soundly in his arms.

Perfect black hair, still neat despite two hours of deep sleep.

He never dreams he claims. Supposes his thoughts are more organized, his mind more efficient so as to not bother him with such things.

He couldn't wait.

To see when he opened deep, calculating eyes.

Though for now he seated him in the car, head lolling as he did his seatbelt.

It was on the 4I highway that he opened his eyes and so quickly realized he wasn't in bed.

"Emile?" he asked.

"Heya kiddo," the man chirped, looking into those azure eyes through the mirror.

"What have you done?"

"Don't worry about it. It is late, so you should just put your head back and go to sleep."

"I was, but you insisted on such an impromptu road trip. Where are we going?"

How good of Abel to still trust him. It was a relief he wouldn't have to see him afraid. When his intentions were the furthest thing from.

"A lovely ranch I've purchased a couple of towns along. Amazing area too, so cozy and remote. A slice of a fairytale, better yet, away from all this urban noise and pollution." And no offense to Abel's fascination, but Emile did wrinkle his nose. Always a sour smell in the air.

"Towns over?" Abel asked, a sharpness to his query.

Hopefully proper love would undo that.

"Yes."

"Yet you didn't tie me up or silence me?"

"Now why would I do something like that?!"

"Because I have all my senses and while I don't pretend to consider jumping, once you stop I could walk or scream."

"Smart ideas except you can't stay awake forever, you're barefoot sooo, actually it poses the question," though he waved off the tangent just as fast. No sequiturs had was one of the first rules Abel had imposed on him once upon a time. "Anyway the windows were tinted per policy, so no one could be the wiser either way."

Then again, Abel wouldn't have to worry for half the reasons such policy was necessary quite soon.

"But of course, we can talk about new windows with some time and I'm sure you and I can come to some kind of livable arrangement. Deal? Deal?"

Even as he sighed, Emile couldn't help but poke just a bit more. "Come on Abby. Say it, say you agree. No need to leave me in suspense."

Say deal. say deal.

Say we can make this work.

Sleep.

Rest. Getting away and what Emile had assumed Abel wouldn't even deign to think about. Despite correctly situating that he did not care.

Two towns. An absolute lie.

Emile was so at ease with all this. Even knowing the Hell Father would put up.

Otherwise these actions would make no sense. Two towns was nowhere near far enough. So, he was lying.

So, there was no telling what there could be to fairly expect anymore.

"Dozed off?"

"No, considering the shot of adrenaline currently pumping in my veins."

Emile just laughed. Nothing sick or demented. Just a man amused at a boy.

"I was just thinking," he continued just as glib, "we could make a game out of this escape business. Keep you on your toes."

The former butler sounded completely serious. As much as he could be anyway and Abel could concede, that was the most unnerving of all.

"No I-- that's fine," Abel said, voice carefully controlled, cadence perfectly even with =out a flaw to be seen. No indicator that he was anything but nonplussed.

Abel sprawled on the seat, much as the seatbelt would allow.

"And so you never did intentional harm to the child?" Marlena posed, tone shrewd and displeasure within her stare and in the bite of her lip.

"Who would do something so awful!" Emile gasped, aghast at the very idea.

*************************

Kids needed quite a lot of sleep.

And Abel, more than any other child his age, would need his strengths.

So, he slept the last meager hours of evening away.

He went back when the sky was still a foggy, cautious light shot with raspberry lemonade pink.

Sunrise was coming earlier and earlier. By the hot glare now upon his cheek Abel could estimate it had to be two, perhaps three hours out. Enough to broil the air and for the seats to absorb into a scalding rise of temperature.

Sitting up he sure enough found the roads were utterly different than he knew.

He could remember jolts and traffic lights. The rumble of large rigs that seemed to inordinately follow.

Emile had not made all the many abrupt turns from what he could guess.

There was no map obvious, so, he mostly knew where he was going.

"Abby! Finally, I was worried I'd have to wake you. Can't have you missing breakfast."

"Breakfast?"

"Well yes, of course. I wouldn't be a responsible caretaker if I let you skip meals."

Abel raised his brow, "how?"

Any sense of unease stricken from his thoughts.

Emile would take him out all the time.

Seldom with approval and always for the most inane reasons to "treat him," for breakfast or lunch, or brunch, or desserts.

This was just another one of those times.

They were just an upper class child and his help.

"Well a gas station of course Abby, that is how cars run," he joked. "No, no I'm kidding."

"Oh then I will go. I need the restroom."

Emile then winced, remorse now obvious on his face. "Gee I'm sorry," and he sure did sound it, "look if you can just hold it for a couple more stops."

"I-- I suppose?"

"Look I don't want you doing something brash and running away from me. I mean you a little kid at a gas station out in nowhere." He then shook his head, sighting the facilities, well separated from the business. "I'm sorry, I just don't think it would be safe right this second."

Abel said nothing, simply putting his forehead to warm glass.

"I won't be long," he assured. "Be good."

He shut the car completely to its mechanical sleep. One last sigh of the engine.

With the click of the lock Emile was gone.

Abel kept close eye, until he could be for absolutely certain that Emile could not see out the window.

Technically he could not confirm if Abel remained still, he had not told him to, then again from the entire encounter it was well implied.

And once it was locked into place, he positioned himself by his back and kicked out his feet.

Putting a litany of force toward each strike, trying and trying and trying and trying... and failing to get the door to give.

He moved to his elbow against the glass. The blows coming weak within that tender line to contact.

It neither would give. Not even to the force of his entire right side.

Until it was his upper back that made a cracking noise.

In fact, his entire body was throbbing. Each pulse growing stronger and more harried as he breathed hard, suffocating in slowly condensing heat. Slowly turning sticky and smothering across his face.

Obviously, the problem lay in his bare feet. That click would not resound, without the added force. Of something with equal durability and hardness instead of soft flesh.

The glove compartment between the front seats was somewhat high.

Abel could notice he was beginning to sweat through his shirt.

A heavy object would have to serve his purposes.

It took a bit of a climb to plop himself atop it. Hmm, not too different to a cat.

And, within that vein it was on all fours that he made to where another opening flap was in the car. Right at the fingertips of a front passenger.

However, he checked the more obtrusive first. Grappling his hands soon stumbled onto the gap, allowing it to POP open.

Simply normal amenities. Plastic spoons and forks, napkins. Some straws, and a map. He could tear it up, but, better he leave things as they were. He put it back, closing the compartment to move on to the next.

Where he found half-melted candies Emile often had on hand. Just for him.

Abel was beginning to taste a slow rise of bile. Swiping the candy aside then, Abel grabbed a paperback car manual. Thick and coming to over six hundred pages of sheer weight.

Surely, surely if he hit it hard enough the window would give. And if nothing else, the few drivers filling their pumps, paying for the gas, would hear the commotion. Ask questions.

Same as Abel had to ask, just what was taking his captor so long?

Maybe better he didn't question it too much.

With everything he had left, wincing only a little as his shirt clung wet and humid on his back, Abel gave it one go then two then three and four and five.

Furiously and with vigor each time.

Until he was breathing hard.

Until he had tried the spine or the other side, the other windows.

His mouth had turned dry.

Tongue chapped and he could feel ragged as sandpaper.

He tried striking at the handles or the crevice.

A good idea in theory to operate the use of a fulcrum...

Or... was it the burn?

A horrible throb pulsated and pushed upon the sides of his head.

His labored gasps came with a horrid rasping sound at his throat.

Dizziness was beginning to take hold.

His hands hardly found the handle again to put the book back.

Abel knew... Abel, Abel, Ab-e-l--

One blink and two.

A dazed heave to take himself over back to his own side.

So Emile didn't suspect.

Emi-- his captor-- hadn't done this. He couldn't dare, right?

No. Not on--

BDUMP!

BDMMP!

What did the cartoon say? The one with the talking dog. He'd liked that one. Liked that particular one very much, teaching him words.

"Try laying on the floor."

He found the sticky air a little less thick.

"It's cooler down there."

"Good girl."

Objective: Failure.