Chapter 1

Don Flack was staring thoughtfully at the body when Lindsay walked up stifling a yawn. "Short night?" he asked with a rueful smile.

"Yeah couldn't get Lucy to settle. She was totally hyper after a birthday party yesterday afternoon. Far too much candy and pop if you ask me." She ran a hand through her hair. Despite a cool shower and an air-conditioned ride she still felt sticky. " And it's just so hot!"

Lindsay put her case down glad to be in the relative cool of the parking garage. Despite the early hour the temperature was already climbing steadily and the forecasters were promising a seasonal record. She sighed heavily as she pulled on her gloves and swiftly took in the scene before her. The young woman lay on her back her arms bent up at the elbows like a young baby in a deep slumber, her head turned slightly to one side, a faint smile gracing her lips. It was almost if she had fallen asleep there but for the harsh red mark around her neck. "She's young. You got an ID?"

"No." Don pointed to the purse, a white leather clutch with a thumb-twist latch and a thin leather strap, lying on the ground next to the victim. "Purse is empty. I talked to the night-watchman who found her..." Don turned to his right to indicate a man in his late fifties with a small goatee and a worried expression who was giving a statement to a uniformed officer a few feet away. " ...he's pretty shaken by the way. He didn't recognize her but swears she wasn't here when he did his previous round at 3am. So we're looking at sometime between 3:12am and 6:12 am." At Lindsay's surprised look, Don shrugged. "Apparently after eight years he's got it down to a fine art. I'm telling ya' Linds – that'll be me in twenty years time … if I live that long!" Lindsay grinned at him and shook her head in amusement. "Anyway there's a security camera at the entrance and exit but not on each floor. It's all saved to a central hard drive in the security guard's office. I'll get a copy of the footage sent over to you as soon as we're done here." Don paused for a second before adding. "Is it just me or is there something odd about her?"

Lindsay looked at him sharply but Don continued to stare down at the young woman at his feet with a puzzled expression on his face. "You mean other than the fact she looks like she's come from a 70's party or is seriously into retro clothing?" she asked contemplating the young woman's apparel. The dark wool A-line skirt and flesh coloured stockings seemed heavy for the weather they'd been having and the purple, black, orange and white polyester blouse with it's bell sleeves and huge collar seemed to hark back to a different era as did the platform shoes and the purse.

Don tore his eyes away from the victim to look at Lindsay for a second. "Well … yeah there's that but … it's almost as though she's been..." Don searched desperately for the right word. "... arranged … like that."

Lindsay nodded thoughtfully as she pulled her camera from her case. "Yeah. I know what you mean." The camera flashed repeatedly as Lindsay took overall shots then twice more as she took closer shots of the purse. Watching where she put her feet she moved round to take a close-up of the girl's face. She was young, perhaps eighteen or nineteen. Pretty with long dark hair brushed into a central parting, the feathered hair at the front drawn into two wings that framed her small heart-shaped face. Lindsay shuddered involuntarily. Cases involving young girls always got to her but she took a deep breath and, with a steely resolve, she pushed away the memories it brought to the surface and focussed the camera on the young girl's neck where the thin red line marred her pale white skin. "Evidence of strangulation." Lindsay bent down to gently pull back one of the girl's eyelids. "Strange. No sign of petechial haemorrhaging. " She lifted one of the girl's arms and studied her hands and forearms. "No defensive wounds." Lindsay took a few more close-up shots before putting aside her camera and swept her pen-light slowly back and forth carefully examining the clothing for trace. "No obvious trace. No scuff marks. No signs of a struggle and her clothes appear to have been straightened out … as though someone has smoothed them down."

"So you agree it's a dump job?" asked Don.

Lindsay nodded as she looked around the parking garage. "There's no indication to show she was killed here."

"And what's with the petals?"

Lindsay shrugged as she studied the dozen or so crimson leaves that littered the ground either side of the body. "They almost look as though they've been scattered around the body but there's no sign of the rose they came from. It's a deliberate act. But why?" She sighed. "Red roses signify love or passion. Could be a sign of remorse! Could be a signature!"

"A serial?" Don asked tentatively.

"Too early to say. Any sign of the murder weapon?" Lindsay asked hopefully.

Don grinned. "Was hoping you could give us a better idea of what we're looking for? No chance it was the strap of the bag?"

Lindsay looked at the strap and then more closely at the marks on the young girl's neck. "Well I wouldn't want to rule it out at this stage but no … the marks are quite distinctive. At first glance I would say a chain more like a necklace. Sid will be able help with that."

"I'm gonna look around and see if I can find anything else ... Oh here's Mac." Lindsay turned round as Don raised a hand in greeting as Mac walked towards them, his shirt sleeves already rolled up. Mac dipped his head in greeting.

"Morning Mac." Lindsay stepped aside to allow him to see the scene looking once more as she did so at the odd clothes the girl was wearing. Lindsay waited for Mac to ask his ubiquitous 'who found the body' question but he didn't say anything. Lindsay dragged her eyes away from the scene. As soon as she did so she realized that Mac had stopped abruptly a couple of feet away. He was staring at the body his eyes narrowed, his brows drawn together in a deep frown, his lips slightly apart. The blood seemed to drain from his face as his mind registered what it was seeing and he wavered ever so slightly.

"Mac?"

When he didn't answer, Lindsay moved closer, gently laying her hand on his arm. "Mac, do you know her?"

As though pulled from a dream, his body jerking involuntarily, Mac looked at Lindsay, his eyes devoid of all emotion. "No … er ... I've never seen her before in my life..." he whispered. "Call Jo." And before she realized what was happening Mac had whirled around and was gone.

Lindsay stared at his retreating back before turning to look at Don questioningly, her brain unable to comprehend what had just occurred. "Can you tell me what just happened?" she asked her voice uncertain and fearful. Don didn't reply as he, like Lindsay stared at the space where Mac had been moments before, because the impossible had just occurred. The inconceivable. The unthinkable. Mac Taylor had walked away from a crime scene.

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"CSI:NY – CSI:NY – CSI:NY"

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"Lindsay?" Jo strode across the garage threading her way between the cars. Lindsay turned around and waved. "What's going on? I thought Mac was handling this." Jo had picked up on the waver in Lindsay's voice in their earlier phone call and, for some reason, she now had an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach. She put down her case and looked at Lindsay who suddenly seemed nervous.

"He was here … but he left ..." Lindsay looked nonplussed unable to come up with a reason as to why Mac had suddenly walked out. Jo looked at her in consternation and then at Don who looked almost as lost.

"What do you mean he left?" Jo pressed, her head flicking back and forth between the two of them sensing that something had clearly upset them both.

"He walked up, took one look at her and told me to call you … and then he left." Lindsay looked at Don.

"Does he know her?" asked Jo thinking the same thing that Lindsay had thought earlier. If there is a connection to a victim, any CSI must detach themselves from the case.

"Well there's the thing. Lindsay asked him that and he said no ... but Jo I'm telling ya' …" Don hesitated for a second as he tried to come up with an explanation for Mac's strange behaviour. "He went as white as a sheet but he said that he'd never seen her before in his life. Jo, he was lying!" Don ran his hand through his hair and turned away. "He was lying." He muttered again to himself unable to believe that his friend, his mentor, one of the people he most looked up to in the world would lie to his face.

Jo couldn't believe what she was hearing. There had to be an explanation. She took a quick look at the body. "What have you found so far?"

"Very little. There are no signs of a struggle and no sign of a murder weapon. There are signs of strangulation but no defensive wounds or petechial haemorrhaging. No ID. And, according to the security guard, she had to have been dumped here between 3am and 6am. Don's getting footage from the entry surveillance cameras sent over to Adam."

Jo looked up as Don's phone rang. He listened for a moment and spun round, his attention focussed on the other side of the garage. With a brief word of thanks, he hung up and walked over to an ancient-looking Ford Bronco with Land of Lincoln registration plates parked incongruously between a Mercedes coupé and a shiny new Impala. He swung a flash-light around the interior. Peering through the wind-shield he tried to see into the back but the windows had been blacked out. Don tried the door but it was locked. Curious Jo and Lindsay joined him.

"What's up Don?" asked Jo.

"I got my guys to check the plates of all the cars in here starting with this floor. This Bronco was reported stolen a month ago. Back windows are blacked out which is strange." Don turned to the security guard who together with the uniformed officer were both looking in their direction wondering what was so interesting. Raising his voice Don called over. "Mr Domingez, was this Bronco parked in this spot last night?" The older man nodded. Turning to Jo, Don continued. "I'll get Adam to check this out on the surveillance footage. There might be a link."

"There is definitely a link!" announced Lindsay who was peering through the passenger side window. Jo and Don turned to look at her curiously. "There's a rose stem devoid of petals in the foot-well!"

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"CSI:NY – CSI:NY – CSI:NY"

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The elevator pinged quietly as Jo and Lindsay entered autopsy. They were surprised to see Danny and Sheldon deep in conversation with Sid. Out of curiosity they both approached and looked at the body of a young man in his early twenties, his pale face, peaceful in death, almost seemed to be smiling.

Sid unclipped his glasses. "Ah. I'm glad you're both here." All three men looked at them very seriously.

"Sid?" asked Jo hesitantly immediately sensing that something was perturbing him.

Sid held up a hand. "First things first." He moved over to the second table and pulled back the blue cloth to reveal the head and shoulders of the young woman they had found in the parking garage. "I've already sent her clothes up to trace. TOD was between 9pm and 11pm last night. Despite the evidence of strangulation, the cause of death is drug overdose. "

"What?" Both women looked stunned.

"I'm running a tox screen now but probably some form of barbiturate. She was then strangled with a chain like this ..." Sid handed over a file with close-up photographs of a single link chain. "... almost certainly a necklace of some sort. She was certainly not breathing at the time but strangulation was close to TOD. No sexual activity. Her stomach contents reveal the remnants of pills and hamburger, fries and strawberry milkshake. And now for our second victim ..." Before Jo and Lindsay could say anything, Sid again held up a hand and moved back to the young man. Danny and Sheldon hadn't moved. They stood at the other side of the table in identical positions, their arms crossed and their faces serious. Sid picked up another file. "This is Marcus James Levy, 23 years old from Cherry Valley, Illinois. Found this morning in The Pond. COD is drowning. His stomach contents reveal the remnants of pills, hamburger, fries and strawberry milkshake. Approximate time of death, between 4am and 6am this morning. The only things found on him were his wallet with driver's licence and thirty-three dollars in cash and in his back pocket..." Sid held up a plastic wallet with a small battered photograph of a young woman in tight jeans and a bright pink tee-shirt. "... a picture of your Jane Doe."