Strictly speaking, when it came to manners of death, the layperson avoided the topic. There were those who had the foresight to ponder and question what happened in the great thereafter but to most people, it was a topic given little thought to. After all, there were few who relished in facing the fact that a human's stay on this planet was small potatoes in the grand scheme of things.
His life however, his work-life anyways, revolved around it. Doctor Sid Hammerback of the New York City Medical Examiner's office stood wrist deep into his latest victim. The serenity that was etched on the face of the 26-year-old woman lying on his table was ironic considering the three large stab wounds to her chest. Sid imagined her last moments of life had been anything but blissful. Another young life snubbed out much too early. As he worked at removing the stomach to empty its contents, Sid tried not to dwell on how close in age this young woman was to his own daughter.
Diligently removing a small collection of mostly digested food into a sample container, Sid found himself trying to pull together this victim's story. The aging Doctor considered it his job to unfold the stories of who his victims were. To give the Crime Scene Investigation unit the information they needed to bring the killers to justice and peace to families. Telling the story of the dead was his role and he took it very seriously.
"You had quite a rough night my dear," Sid murmured softly to the young woman. Had his victim been among the living, his sincerity and manner of speaking would have conveyed his respect. To his staff, it was evident the reverence he held for the dead and Sid tolerated nothing less. It was a privilege to prepare the victims for their families and he expected everyone to afford them the same rights as any living individual.
"Not much in the stomach," he noted, swishing around the approximately 50 millilitres of bile liquid in the container. As he continued with his examination, he spotted the damage from the knife wounds. One had intersected into the Aorta, the second on the left ventricle and the third on the left lung.
As he inspected inside the pericardium closer, Sid peered through his glasses at some suspicious debris. "Interesting...," Sid mumbled as he used tweezers to remove some grit from one of the wound tracks.
"Talking to yourself again Sid?" a familiar voice drawled as his attention remained attuned to the trace as he placed it in another container. Looking up, Sid smiled as he locked gazes with an amused Stella Bonasera, standing cross-armed before him. Her brown locks were pulled back to the nape of her neck, her black blazer and slacks showing off her attractive figure. As Sid took in her raised eyebrow appraising his gaze, he merely smiled. The medical examiner could still appreciate finely dressed women—as long as his wife was not present.
He was old not stupid.
"Just seeing what this young woman has to tell us," he stated matter of factly as he pointed to the victim. "I afford them the same courtesy as yourself Stella, no one gets away without missing my pearls of wisdom—even the dead," he smiled, winking to the Detective standing before him. Her green eyes sparkled as she laughed heartily.
"Glad to see I'm not your only target," Stella retorted as she indicated their Vic lying prone before them. Her chest open for all to see, inside organs splayed around her. A disturbing picture had she not seen it many times before. "Anything remarkable?"
Her question was met with a firm shake of the medical examiner's head. "Too early to tell Stella, afraid you'll have to wait for my report like everyone else." Out of professional courtesy, Sid sometimes would alert the lead CSI if anything seemed amiss or unusual. This time, it seemed fairly run of the mill.
Stella held up her arms in protest. "I know, I know. I just happened to be down here, picking up another report," she held the manila folder up as evidence, "And I just wanted to check in." She gave her colleague a genuine smile and she slapped the folder in her hands.
"If I know anything about you Stella my dear, it is that you do nothing by accident," Sid reported with an easy smile, his eyes sparkling as he continued to work. Despite the fact he often talked to his deceased victims, it was nice to talk to someone who answered back. And no one jested with him the way Stella did. Their easy banter was always welcomed.
Before a smart retort could leave her lips, the bright surgical lights that were suspended from the ceiling flickered several times before dimming and finally fading out. In fact, the florescent lighting around the morgue was following suit. A few seconds of darkness followed before the emergency generators kicked in.
"Interesting," Sid broke the silence, as he noted the time on his watch, 12:30 pm. Both waited a few moments, fully expecting the main lights to come to life once again but the dimmed emergency lighting remained. There was no overhead page indicating an emergency, no fire alarm. It was warm and sunny outside, no reason the weather would have caused a power outage.
"I'll contact Mac and see what's going on," Stella indicated as she unclipped her cell phone. As she touched the screen, she frowned, as no display was available. After several moments of pressing buttons, she muttered a curse under her breath. Her phone was dead and she distinctly remembered charging it the night before.
"Landline in my office," Sid offered, as she nodded and entered into his office several feet away. She returned quickly, giving her colleague an exasperated look.
"Line's dead," Stella reported, a frown now adorning her features. "You have your cell phone on you Sid?"
"In my locker, I don't have any use for it here. Usually splotchy reception down here anyways and my wife calls my office number if she needs me. It was the kid's idea to get one and I rarely use the damn thing. Waste of money if you ask me but they say it gives them a piece of mind...," Stella held up her hand, Sid stopping mid sentence. Now was not the time for one his lengthy tales.
"I'm gonna head up to the lab to see what is going on," she stated, watching as he removed his gloves in a trash receptacle and washed his hands. Stella headed to the elevators, Sid following behind her.
"The elevators shouldn't work if there is a power outage," he clarified, as Stella nodded her head in agreement.
"Just making sure the outage is not isolated to the morgue," she replied, pressing the appropriate button. A moment later, the elevator chimed and Stella turned to Sid with a smile. It would be logical to assume there was some sort of backup system for the elevators to prevent disasters with loss of power.
"You sure you wanna get in that car with a questionable power problem? I know it's a long way up the stairs Stella..."
They were stunned speechless when the elevator opened and a bloody mess greeted them. Blood splatter littered the walls of the car and a crumbled body was pushed to the back. Both quickly moved into action, as Stella surged into the car and carefully approached the body.
Feminine clothes and high heels led them to the assumption the body was female. She appeared to have short light brown hair, a well-manicured hand draped behind her. Her NYPD shield was visible on her belt and her ID lay face down beside her.
It was one of their own.
Stella reached the woman first, a surprised gasp leaving her lips as the woman's form rolled into her lap.
"Oh my God," she breathed.
"Dear Lord," Sid exclaimed just as surprised.
Detective Lindsey Messer moaned unintelligibly, as Stella's hands quickly moved to the stab wound in her abdomen. She tried not to focus on the trails of blood around them. "Sid!"
Her frantic call forced the medical examiner into action, his aging body quickly kneeling down to assess the situation. His shock was pushed behind his professional mask, his expert hands brushing over Lindsey's wounds.
"She has a stab wound to the abdomen, lower right quadrant and to the lower left quadrant. There appears to be several abrasions but no other deep wounds. She appears to have a nasty gash on her forehead, leading me to conclude she most likely has a concussion," his voice rattling off her injuries in the same tone he used when cataloguing evidence on tape. As he probed one of the stab sites, a moan left her lips and Stella did her best to sooth her unconscious friend.
"We need to get her help. Grab whatever medical supplies you have Sid and we'll go up in the elevator."
The medical examiner nodded, quickly leaving to gather up the first aid kit. Stella pulled off her blazer and pressed it against Lindsey's stomach. Lindsey continued to lay motionless, her pale complexion a testament to the blood already lost. As she waited impatiently for Sid to return, she assessed the elevator, which appeared to be in working order.
Stella was at loss over how this could happen in their own office, their own Lab. Not even on the street or crime scene where it could be expected. It made her happy that her side arm rested on her hip and not in her office drawer. Lindsey's attacker did not want to get within her reach.
"It's gonna be okay kiddo," Stella soothed as she wiped at some drops of blood on her face, the young woman not even flinching at her touch. Stella struggled to keep her emotions and worry at bay. There was too much going on for her liking and Mac's words echoed in her ears. There were no coincidences.
Running footsteps greeted her ears as Sid returned breathless with several bags in tow. With their situation undetermined, he figured it would not hurt to be over prepared.
"I grabbed everything I could," the older man reported as he immediately knelt down. "I didn't see anyone around," he added, figuring he had been alone as it was lunchtime. Sid often worked through his break in a vain attempt to be home at a decent hour. Usually it was a fruitless gesture.
"Good," Stella stated simply before standing and letting Sid take over. Pressing the button for the 26th floor, Stella sincerely hoped her worry was for nothing.
Detective Mac Taylor moved methodically with a magnifying glass over a men's long sleeve shirt, his experienced eyes looking for any piece of evidence that could lead them in the right direction. Holding the magnifying glass with his left hand, he used a pair of tweezers to pick off a small orange thread attached to the collar. He placed the trace in a small envelope, labelling it and setting it aside before continuing with his inspection of the shirt.
Mac was very much enjoying his day, having spent it thus far in the lab. Two sick calls this morning, Adam being one of them, meant that he had been needed to pick up the slack. Danny and Sheldon were at a scene near central park, leaving only Stella and Lindsey to handle the lab.
Mac had been more than happy to help. His paperwork was piled to the ceiling in his office but with the late nights he pulled, there would be plenty of time to catch up on it. Mac was enjoying himself too much at present. His office work felt like it had been over taking his life for the last few weeks.
As Mac catalogued another piece of trace, he was distracted as the lights flickered for a few moments. Just when he thought they were on the cusp of a power outage, the lights evened out. He waited a few seconds before returning to his task, appreciative of the kink an outage would do to his day. The best one in a couple weeks, Mac thought gladly.
Mac absorbed himself with his job for the moment before glancing at his watch; he noted the time to be 12:55pm. Frowning, he wondered where Stella was. They had planned to go to lunch for 1:00pm and he would have expected her to be buzzing around annoying him to finish up by now. Finishing with the shirt, he re-bagged it and handed it off to a lab tech. Disposing of his gloves; Mac then shrugged of his lab coat and pulled his phone from his pocket.
No missed calls, no texts. Mac's brow furrowed as he pressed speed dial and brought the phone to his ear. It rang once before informing him that her phone was turned off. The detective entered into his office, hanging up his lab coat and proceeding to his desk. Sitting down, he dialled her office number from his landline. After six rings, he concluded she was not there.
Mac could not explain the irrational fear that prickled along his spine at this time. His blue eyes held worry as he looked into the lab from his office, hoping to spot her distinctive curly brown hair.
His cell phone chirped to life, his hopes dashed as he saw Danny's name appear on his caller ID.
"Taylor," he answered formally, as he continued to scan the lab.
"Yeah, Boss. I need to speak to Lindsey, she with you? She's not answering her phone," the young man explained, his words conveying his worry. Another red flag went off in Mac's brain. He had sent Lindsey to obtain some evidence dropped off to Flack at the precinct and she had not returned. That was hours ago.
"I haven't seen her in a while Danny. Would you like me to give her a message?" the older man asked, deciding to keep his worry to himself for the moment.
"Yeah, just get her call me. My mom is babysitting Lucy today and Linds told her she would stop by at lunch to nurse the baby. She never showed, never called. It's not like her Mac." He had to agree it was unusual. Mac could see the old Lindsey being wrapped up in her work but not when it came to her daughter. Both of the Messer's were devoted to baby Lucy.
"No problem Danny. I will find her and let her know. You guys almost finished up?"
"Yeah, probably be back in an hour." Danny surmised. Mac had a feeling it would be earlier if he didn't soon hear from Lindsey. "Later Boss," Danny signed off before Mac hung up the phone.
Leaving his office, Mac decided the most logical place that both of his MIA detectives could possibly be was the morgue. Sid had a habit of making a ten-minute visit into a half hour but this was stretching it, even for their long-winded medical examiner.
Reaching the elevators, Mac noted the security guard positioned before him blocking his entrance.
"Are the elevators broken?" Mac asked, the security guard nodding his head.
"One of the cars is stuck. We think it experienced a glitch when we had a power surge. A repair crew is on route," he explained.
"Anyone stuck in the car?" Mac asked, wondering if his missing colleagues were stuck in the elevator car. A harrowing experience by any means, but at least it would explain their disappearance.
"Not that I know of sir. According to the security footage we are receiving, it is empty. As a precaution, we have stopped use of the other elevator until the repair crew can assess the system."
Mac nodded in understanding, thanking the man for the information before leaving for the stairs. As he entered into the stairwell, Mac groaned slightly at the prospect of descending and then re-climbing 26 flights of stairs.
As he began his journey downwards, Mac silently hoped that Stella and Lindsey were in the morgue.