TITLE: Keep your friends close
AUTHOR: Chauncey10 aka MSCSIFANGSR
RATING: M for subject matter
DISCLAIMER: I'm just playing with them.
NOTES: Just a little dark story on how things COULD turn out. I forgot that I'd written this until I was cleaning out my files.
WARNING: This story is not for the faint-hearted. No fluff contained in this story. Many CD's are noted.
WORD COUNT: about 2000
SPOILERS: Every show aired in the U.S. to date and possible for future episodes.
BETA(S): The two Jeans read over this, but not in it's final form. Mistakes are all mine.
PROMPT: Very Late Entry to The Geekfiction Blockbuster Ficathon: "Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer," "The Godfather Part II," 1974.
Jim Brass looked through the two way interrogation room window watching as Gil Grissom and Ezekiel Holstein questioned the suspect from a very bloody, double homicide out in Whitney. Brass wasn't assigned to the case, he was merely conducting an investigation of his own, being he was one of the union representatives for policemen's union for the Greater Las Vegas Metro Police Department.
Holstein had only achieved detective status two years ago in the narcotics division and had recently moved into the homicide section, but already had more than several complaints filed against him, but the young black man had been personally brought up the ladder from patrol by Jeffery Mc Keen. There must have been some potential in the man if the Undersheriff had taken an interest in the him. Brass wasn't entirely sure if he liked the lieutenant. Brass relied on his gut instinct; something about the young man didn't sit quite right with him.
Holstein was giving the suspect the third degree, rattling off several incriminating questions before the suspected murderer could think of any possible cover stories to provide an alibi for his whereabouts during the time frame in which the murders had taken place.
The man in question, Lamar Harrison, looked forlorn, for lack of a better word. He reminded Brass of many suspects who quickly crumbled under interrogation. And before Grissom could readjust his bifocal glasses, Harrison asked politely for his attorney.
Holstein and Grissom left the room, leaving Harrison with a uniformed officer to await the public defender.
The two were silent as Brass approached them, "Gil, I need to talk to Ezekiel here for a moment."
Grissom merely nodded to Brass and said to Holstein, "Page me when the Public Defender gets here. I want to be in on his statement, if he gives one."
Grissom walked off toward the main bank of offices, Brass wasn't sure where Grissom was headed, but did have a sneaking suspicion that Gil was going to confront the Undersheriff about the lack of manpower available for the investigation of Warrick Brown and Nick Stokes' deaths. Grissom did not agree with the findings of Internal Affairs, nor had he stopped to consider the implications of his continued investigation.
Nick Stokes had committed suicide four days after Warrick's death. Internal Affairs was called in and the weapon that was used in the murder of Brown was determined to be the same weapon used in Stokes' suicide. IA determined Nick was despondent over murdering his best friend and decided to relieve his stress by killing himself.
Brass thought Grissom was going against the political current by still trying to find the killer/killers of his team members, after all it had been six months since their deaths.
The Undersheriff had assigned four new CSI, level ones to the nightshift and it took most of Grissom's time to monitor their work.
Brass knew a few things about the mobster Warrick had been accused of murdering before the same IA had cleared him of the charges. Jim even recalled a few stories whispered over beers about possible moles in the department, but nothing was ever substantiated.
Grissom had never been able to sort through gossip, nor was he able to distinguish when he was sitting on top of a political scandal that could blow the top off of Las Vegas law enforcement. Brass had tried to warn his buddy, but Grissom continued to annoy the powers that be over the death of Warrick Brown. Jim Brass tried to keep Grissom from the potential fall-out. He wanted his friend safe.
Jim turned his attention back to the detective who had volunteered to be the 'victim' in the 'reverse forensics' debacle.
Brass decided to break the proverbial ice: "Holstein, I watched your interrogation, you might want to tone your act down. Harrison wasn't being belligerent, you didn't have to do the 'bad cop' routine."
"Man, what's it to you?" The man's eyes bored into Brass.
"I'm your union rep, dude. And there have been complaints." Brass smiled, his eyes never leaving the other man's.
"What kinda complaints?" Holstein challenged.
Brass crossed his arms over his chest, "Numerous ones."
"You saying I'm a bad cop?"
Brass noticed the clinched fists at his side. "All I'm saying is tone your act down, friend-o. And if you start playing by the rules, then maybe all the complaints about you disappear, comprehendo?"
"Yeah, I got it." The black man turned his back on Brass and headed toward the waiting room and Brass watched as he bought himself a soda.
Brass' cell phone buzzed in his pocket, meaning he was receiving a text message. He pulled the phone out and read the words: "419--Palazzo 2708…BUGS, bring Grissom."
Brass walked into the waiting room and sat down on the same conjoined chair with Holstein. "Just got a call. Grissom's needed on another case. Was there a secondary CSI on your case?"
"Um, I can't remember the chick's name. The young, pretty one from swing shift?"
"Lake," Brass supplied.
"Yeah, that's the one. Do I need to page her or should we let Grissom have the honor?"
"I'll text him, I think he's in with Mc Keen." Brass began punching the letters into the screen of his phone. Holstein tried to hide the slight grin when Mc Keen's name was mentioned, but Brass noticed it.
Curious.
Brass finished with the text and stood, deciding he might need a cold drink for his ride to the newest crime scene. He walked over and the machine promptly took his money.
Holstein seemed to think the incident was amusing.
Brass's phone buzzed again. He quickly read the text and looked over at Holstein who was still laughing at the pounding Brass had given the soda machine.
"Grissom says he's going to this new crime scene and for you to call Lake." Jim relayed the information to Ezekiel.
"Well, I guess that's that."
Jim Brass nodded and hurried out of the waiting room.
There were bugs at the crime scene. Grissom only laughed when one of the uniformed officers asked if they were going to arrest the bees that surrounded the body.
The victim was covered with bee stings and the body was almost swollen beyond normal. Grissom thought that the victim had probably died of anaphylactic shock, but he would leave the COD to his friend, Albert Robbins.
"You gonna cart those bees back to the crime lab and let them live in that colony you love so much." Brass' voice cut through into Gil's brain.
"No, these are of the 'bombus terresris' genesis and the ones at the lab are of the 'bombus lapidarius' genesis. They're not compatible."
Brass had quit listening at the word 'no' and resumed listening at 'compatible'.
"Speaking of compatible, how is Sara?" He watched as Grissom's eyebrows shot up.
"Fine."
"I know the woman is fine, how is she?" Brass chuckled at the flash of jealousy he saw in his friend's eyes.
"She's okay, nothing's wrong with her." Grissom wished everyone would leave him alone when it came to Sara.
"Hey, I need to talk to you about something important. How about meeting for a scotch somewhere, where we can speak freely?"
Brass' conspiratorial tone made Grissom wince.
"Sara is okay. She's in San Francisco. If she decides not to come back, then I'm going to move there. Period. No more questions."
"It's not about Sara, Gil. It's about something else. Something that's really going to hurt you in the long run."
Gil Grissom watched as the light reflected off the crystal as he swirled the brown liquid around inside the glass..
His mind was thankfully blank. After everything Brass had explained to him, his brain merely shut down.
Brass told him of his suspicions about Holstein being McKeen's informer, about his suspicions of McKeen's involvement in dirty politics and mob scandals. Brass knew, but could not prove, that McKeen had pulled the trigger on Warrick and set up Nick's suicide.
"You gotta keep your friends close and you're enemies closer." Brass had laughed satirically.
"Sun Tzu, 'The Art of War' around 500 BC." Grissom replied.
"Michael Carleone, "The Godfather: Part II, 1974." Brass shot back.
Grissom didn't laugh, he merely took another sip of scotch.
Several weeks later, there was a going away party for Gil Grissom, there was cake in the break room, balloons, and even a few presents. Everyone was in attendance: the lab rats, CSI's from all shifts, Ecklie, McKeen and several detectives, assistant DA's, even Judy from reception, but no Gil Grissom. None of the attendees realized he had already left the State.
Catherine was indignant. "How could he do this to us, Jim?"
Brass looked over the crowd, "He hated stuff like this and you know it. He's with Sara, where he needs to be. They don't need us anymore."
"You knew he was already gone and you still came to this 'bon voyage' party?"
Catherine's scathing looks were well-known, but they didn't affect Brass.
"Look, he took Warrick's death badly, Nick's death shook him to his core. Gil's only base of support is in San Francisco, so I helped him pack up the loft and took him and that slobbering dog of his to the airport this morning."
"I still can't believe Nick committed suicide after Warrick death. I still don't believe Nick murdered Warrick."
"Catherine, all we can do, is let the evidence speak for itself or try to prove the evidence was tampered with. We may never know for sure what happened with either Stokes or Brown, but it's time we let it go. Grissom is, he's gone to be with the woman he loves."
"I wish him the best."
McKeen's voice blasted through the room: "Attention: I want to raise a toast to Gil Grissom, where ever he is, right now." The room slightly shook with laughter. "Gil Grissom was the best CSI I've ever had the opportunity to work with and now the time has come where he's decided to retire, I wish him all the best in his future endeavors."
Everyone in the room raised a glass to the MIA entomologist.
Several years later, Jeffery McKeen was elected mayor of Las Vegas and talk amongst the political movers and shakers he was odds on favorite to be the next senator from Nevada.
Ezekiel Holstein was dead, shot by a suspect in a suspicious gang dispute.
Jim Brass was also dead, shot by the same suspect in a gang dispute.
Internal Affairs decided neither Brass or Holstein had been killed by 'friendly fire' as the CSI, Greg Sanders had deduced from the evidence.
Sanders was later found dead of an apparent meth over-dose, while sprawled across a dead hooker in a cheap hotel room.
Conrad Ecklie was dead of a stress-induced heart attack while sitting in his office reviewing case files from the nightshift.
Catherine Willows was the CEO of all of Sam Bruin's holdings; she opened the 'Magnificent Hotel and Casino', her last of 25 casinos on the day McKeen was elected to the U.S. Senate. Lindsey Willows had been killed in a drive-by shooting and Catherine suffered a nervous breakdown, while her current husband, Adam Novak took over the casinos.
Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle finally married, moved to South America where he could study the insects of the Rain Forest more in depth. One morning far into the future, the Grissom's decided to return to the U.S., and upon re-entry to the States, they were arrested for the murders of Warrick Brown and Nicholas Stokes.
THE END
Flames expected :)