-1A shiny brown tide of hair swung round as she turned in the direction the sound was coming from. Her eyes flickered across the scene, searching for the sound that had alerted her attention. Sara Sidle shone her Maglite across the darkened landscape and stopped as she saw a tiny flicker of movement in the shadows. From a distance, she couldn't tell, but she could have sworn it was fellow CSI Greg Sanders, waving her over to the spot illuminated by her flashlight. She moved closer and as she did, it confirmed that it was the spiky-haired former lab tech crouching by their latest homicide victim. Sara looked down to the huddled flesh colored heap by her feet and allowed her flashlight to wander over every little detail as a prelim before her meticulous analysis was to begin.
"She looks as though she's been here a while, local hiker called it in," Greg told the brunette, who was just shy of forty, though you would never tell to look at her.
"David will be able to give us an exact time, but it looks as though rigor has set in, so she's been dead at least twenty-four hours," Sara replied, though more to herself than Greg.
The victim was a young female, long flowing blonde locks and a beautiful face under the white that had now taken over as the blood from her body had drained. She was curled in the fetal position, her eyes shut but her features not peaceful. David Phillips, assistant to Dr Albert Robbins arrived, carrying his medical examination kit, ready for his new victim. David approached the victim and took out a small device, used to measure liver temperature.
"Liver temp's 79.8, she's been dead around forty-eight hours," The coroner said to both CSI's.
"Does this look like a body dump to you or was she killed here and left? Sara spoke, although this time directly to the coroner. David rolled the body onto its side and then looked to Sara.
"Lividity is fixed, she may have been attacked somewhere else, but she definitely died here," The thirty-something coroner replied.
"What was the cause of death?" Greg piped up from where he was looking for tire treads.
"No obvious marks or contusions, and no ligature marks," the coroner gently opened the victim's right eye then continued, "No petichial hemorrhaging, she wasn't asphyxiated nor strangled," David finished.
"I'll be able to tell you more after autopsy," He added, matter-of-factly.
Sara joined Greg who was searching for tire treads, she shone her Maglite across the ground, and she stopped suddenly as a small outline caught her eye. She got closer and identified it as a shoe print. She took the electrostatic print lifter from her field kit and lifted the print ready for Hodges to analyze back at the lab. There was nothing surrounding the body except a small shawl that Greg was just sealing into an evidence bag and securing it in his kit. There was nothing around that could be printed except for the victim but that would be done later by Dr Robbins during autopsy.
Detective Jim Brass wandered over to Greg and Sara, who were getting ready to head back to the lab.
"Hey, Rachel Martin found the body, says she was walking her dog and he went crazy, pulling her towards the body. She says she didn't touch the victim, just saw the body and called nine-one-one straight away." The detective was a short man in his mid fifties and slightly overweight. The first thing you noticed about Captain Brass was his razor-sharp acid wit. He had a strong sense of justice and knew how to control a situation wherein which the criminal thought he knew best. Big mistake. Captain Brass had a very short temper and did not like anything that was considered offensive to the police force.
"Make sure she stays, we'll need to get her prints so we can corroborate her story and rule her out as a suspect. You know first witness on the scene, first suspect," Sara said, as Brass nodded to a small, meek-looking woman.
"She's just over there," Brass walked back over to his Ford Taurus. Sara and Greg walked over to the woman, who was staring into space, and barely batted an eyelid as they approached her.
"Miss Martin? I'm Sara Sidle and this is Greg Sanders, we're from the Las Vegas Crime Lab, we understand you found the body and need to ask you a few questions," The woman looked up at Sara, then to Greg and nodded before speaking,
"Of course Miss Sidle, ask what you need to," Rachel replied, her voice as small as her appearance.
"What time did you find the body, approximately?" Sara asked.
"Well I got here at about nine thirty with my dog, Snickers. He was barking, I mean not like his usual bark, it was kind of…manic. He pulled on his lead and dragged me to…what I found. I'd say it was around ten PM when I found the body and I called nine-one-one straight away," Rachel shrunk back down into herself as if she was the one on trial.
"Okay, so you didn't touch the body?"
"No, not at all," Greg thought she sounded pretty adamant.
"We will need to take your fingerprints, just as a precaution," Sara told her, but recoiled slightly as the woman's stare bore into her.
"Why? I'm not a suspect I-," Greg interrupted her, "The first person on the scene is always the first suspect, if you give us your prints it will help to clear you a lot quicker," the woman seemed reassured by this and nodded slowly as Sara began to set up her printing kit. Sara carefully rolled the printing ink over Rachel's hands and pressed her fingers into the ten card she had already prepared. She offered her a paper towel to wipe her hands with and she spoke softly to her,
"Thank you, that's all we need at the moment, we may need to talk to you again though so we would be grateful if you would provide us with a contact number," Rachel glanced at Sara for a beat, then wrote down her cell number on the paper Greg handed to her.
Suddenly Sara's cell chirped, which seemed to startle her a little. She plucked it from her belt and answered it; "Sidle" the voice on the other end spoke softly; Sara, Grissom, did you interview the suspect?
"Yeah, got her prints too, and we got her cell number if we need more,"
Good, I've just spoken to David, the body's on its way to the morgue. Finish processing the scene and meet me at the morgue,
"Okay," it was too late, Grissom had already clicked off.
Brass had long since vacated the scene and the detective was just approaching Grissom's office when he was just on his way out.
"Jim, what a nice surprise, usually when you're here something's up," Grissom smiled in his angelic, albeit slightly sarcastic way.
"Well don't you know it," Brass chuckled, dryly.
"So, what's new?" Grissom invited the detective into his office and sat behind his desk as Brass took the chair in front of it.
"Who have you go left on your shift?" Brass asked, he couldn't wait to tell Grissom the new scenario he had just gotten hold of.
"Warrick's on vacation today, I got Cath, Nick and Sophia and when I've met with Sara and Greg, I'll be available too. Why what's going on?" Grissom's eyes narrowed towards the detective as he smiled wryly.
"New York, New York casino, woman in her hotel room, a whole lotta blood, no way there's just one vic. Her throat's been slashed and that's all I know," Brass laughed, although this was clearly no laughing matter.
"Great, just wonderful, I'll get Nick ad Cath to the scene now and I'll call Sophia, she's at that shoot-out on Fremont Street," Grissom sighed and rubbed his temple as if trying to get rid of something that wasn't there.
Sara and Greg got back into the Tahoe with Sara behind the wheel and Greg in the passenger seat, his eyes near enough shut. This was going to be a long shift, he could feel it. They drove through Las Vegas Strip, the lights flashing like a million fireflies, that was one hell of an electricity bill! Greg had almost fallen into a slumber when Sara stopped the Tahoe, and to his surprise, was stroking the side of his face in an attempt to wake him. He opened on eye and saw the stunning brunette nudging him.
"Okay, I'm awake, let's go seek out Grissom," Greg yawned sleepily.
"You know Grissom, late for everything, we can beat him to the coroner's office, lets go find Dr Robbins, get some info before the boss," she smiled her radiant smile and climbed down from the Tahoe and stretched. Soon after winding through the warren of corridors of HQ the reached the morgue. As they entered, the saw Dr Robbins already way into autopsy. He was nearing his late fifties, his salt and pepper beard, more salt than pepper now. He worked constant overtime and put in punishing hours, which was a great asset to the graveyard shift. Sara and Greg pulled on navy scrubs and wandered over to the metal autopsy table where Doc Robbins was examining the victim's heart.
"Ah Sara, Greg…just in time, got a COD for you," the doctor showed them a sample of the victim's blood which was now a yellowish colour.
"I sent a sample of this fluid over to Tox and when the screen came back, I had your COD. Your vic was poisoned," Sara looked at the doctor for a moment, then replied,
"Poisoned?" Doc Robbins nodded his head.
"Yes, poisoned, a whole cocktail of things. Methanol, Ethanol, Octylacrylamide, Benzyl Salicylate, Butane, Methacrylate and Tetrodotoxin. The latter is very rare and hard to come by. I matched the other compound to Surgical Spirit and Hairspray. Someone knew what they were doing here," Doc Robbins shook his head and Sara replied,
"It still amazes me what people can bring themselves to do to each other," She sighed.
Doc Robbins returned the look as Greg and Sara rolled their eyes, where would they find that unique mix?
"Oh, I ID'd your Vic, Names Kelsey McIvers, current partner a Michael Dawson; he works at the Las Vegas Sea World facility.
"Greg, go find Griss and tell him what's happening, I will arrange a meeting with this Dawson guy and we can visit him at his "fine" establishment," She laughed, Greg grinned at her before disappearing. Sara sighed, heavily; she hated the fishing expeditions they seemed to be going on so often nowadays. Sara wound through the corridors and almost ran into Greg who had just emerged from Grissom's office.
"Greg let's go pay Dawson a visit," Sara said to her spiky-haired co-worker who looked as though he had neither eaten nor slept since at least a week ago.
"Sure thing Sara," he replied, the heaviness in his voice evident as he gave a weight-of-the-world sigh.
"I'll drive, you're a security risk," she smiled as her partner climbed into the passenger seat next to her. Sara didn't mind driving; she found it relaxing especially when she knew how long her shift was going to be. She was sure she had maxed out on over-time, but Grissom hadn't mentioned it, so neither had she. She glanced to her right; Greg was slumped against the door, fast asleep. Sara smiled softly; she couldn't take her eyes off him, why she couldn't say.
"Stop staring at me," Greg didn't even open an eye, she just twitched a smile. Sara looked shocked, how did he know that? She just laughed and put her eyes back on the road, glancing at him occasionally.
They arrived at the Las Vegas Sea World facility and they jumped out of the Tahoe. Well, Greg half jumped half fell. As they walked to the front entrance, a man in his early forties with a black suit, white shirt and red tie greeted them with an oily, albeit slightly patronizing smile.
"Welcome to the Las Vegas Sea World Facility," the man announced.
"Michael Dawson?" Sara asked.
"The one and only," he replied.
"Mr. Dawson, we're with the Las Vegas Crime Lab, my name's Sara Sidle and this is Greg Sanders. We're investigating a homicide and need to ask you some questions," Sara said, before showing Dawson the I.D that was hung on a necklace around her neck.
"Of course, ask what you will but understand Miss Sidle I'm a very busy man," Dawson replied, not looking best pleased to have cops around his establishment.
"We won't be here long, is there somewhere we could go to talk?" Sara asked the man, who was looking suspiciously agitated she thought.
"My office is this way," He led them through a maze of tanks containing many fascinating-looking creatures. They finally reached an office with a metal door plaque announcing
MR. MICHAEL DAWSON MANAGER
They entered the small office, which was, as expected pretty sparse. A wooden desk took up a large amount of room with a tall leather chair and two smaller visiting chairs in front of it. Mr. Dawson gestured to the CSI's to take the chairs as he took place behind his desk.
"So, you wanna tell me what this is about?" He replied, slightly sardonically.
"Certainly, a young woman was murdered at about noon three days ago. When we ID'd her, your name came up. Her name was Kelsey McIvers," Sara looked at the man whose expression didn't change, even after hearing this news.
"Kelsey? That's…that's awful…are you sure she was murdered?" Dawson's eye twitched probably with nerves.
"She was poisoned Mr. Dawson, a very rare poison and some other toxins found in hairspray and surgical spirit. Don't you share a house with Kelsey Mr. Dawson?" Sara replied, watching his expression closely.
"Yes, she did stay with me,"
"Why didn't you report her missing three days ago?" Greg asked the man who answered in a beat.
"No, she was going to L.A to visit her sister; I had no reason to be concerned.
"So you didn't worry when she wasn't back til now?" Greg replied, the man was twitching, and over-nervous.
"No! She wasn't due back until tomorrow, I've done my best to co-operate but it sounds like you're accusing me, so I would like you to leave now," The man had now risen from his desk and opened the door for the two CSI's.
"We will be back Mr. Dawson," Sara replied and smiled, although not for the normal reasons for smiling, she saved this smile for those she did not like. Mr. Dawson frowned as the CSI's left. They wandered back to the Tahoe and climbed in. Just then, Sara's cell chirped and she answered it on the second ring, seconds later Greg's rang too. Both conversations were short.
"Who called you?" Greg asked, a frown furrowed in his in his forehead.
"Robbins, says he has more on the body for us, you?"
"Grissom, has some background on our vic, her last employment, her friends says he wants us back to the lab," Greg replied with a sigh.
"Oh well Grissom will have to wait, shame," The sarcasm in Sara's voice was so staged, even Greg had to laugh.
Sara and Greg got out of the Tahoe back at HQ and started towards the morgue. They wandered through the corridors, as the various lab techs were hard at work. As they approached the morgue, Dr Robbins waved them in. They resumed their navy scrubs and Sara asked the doctor;
"So what's new Doc?" He smiled at Sara before answering the CSI's question.
"I ran a SART kit, your vic was sexually assaulted peri-mortem. You can see the darkened abrasions here on this picture. Doc Robbins held up the picture for both CSI's to see.
"Is there seminal DNA?" Greg asked, a hopeful look on his face.
"Yes, here, I prepared a sample to send to DNA for you," he handed them a small vial with a white liquid inside.
"Nice," Sara said, hoping to be able to get a profile from this DNA sample the perp so willingly had given to them.
"I'll get this to DNA," Greg said, before rushing off with the vial.
"Thanks Doc," Sara said before leaving the coroner's office to go in search of Grissom. She found him sat behind his desk studying a book on Entomology, a cup of tea on the desk. She knocked on the door and he smiled at the sight of her.
"Sara, got some results here for you," He handed her a manila envelope with several sheets of paper in it.
"Thanks Griss," Sara smiled at him before sitting on his desk.
"So, what's new with you?" She asked, knowing it wouldn't be much.
"I'm reading a very interesting book on the study of Entomology, you should read it," Grissom replied
"No, I think I'll pass," Sara laughed, clearly happy in Grissom's company.
"Haven't you go work to do Sara?" Grissom raised an eyebrow at her until she got off his desk; they both grinned at each other before Sara left his office and went in search of Greg.
Red-blonde CSI Catherine Willows and Ex-Texas jock Nick Stokes had arrived at the New York New York casino, just off The Strip. Detective Brass had already arrived, he seemed to be everywhere and Catherine wondered if he had a time warp machine. She smiled to herself as she and Nick strode over to the stocky detective for a full update of the situation. She was tall and elegant, a former dancer and she knew how to hold her own. Nick was a well-built, tall guy with short black hair, cropped at the sides and a smile that could get him out of anything. As they approached, Brass had his regular wry smile plastered across his face.
"Hey, who called it in?" Cath spoke to the detective, her voice weary and heavy, she had been on a solid twenty-hour shift with no reprieve.
"The maid went in to clean the room at seven; she went in, opened the curtains and saw the body. She went downstairs and told the manager, who called nine-one-one. She's over there, Maria De Ferias, doesn't speak much English, this should be a short interview," Brass laughed dryly, his eyes rolled up into his head as the three of the walked over to the Hispanic-looking maid.
"Miss De Ferias? Catherine Willows, this is Nick Stokes, we're from the Las Vegas Police Department."
"Sorry, you must excuse my English, I not been here to long," the maid struggled to meet Catherine's gaze; her eyes seemed dark and afraid.
"That's okay, you just need to tell us what you saw Maria," Catherine's voice was light and soothing.
"I go in to clean room, I open curtains to let in light, I turn and see…body on bed with gash across throat. Blood everywhere all walls, floor even back of door. I went downstairs told Carlos and he called you in," Maria's voice had become so quiet by the end of her statement, Nick had to strain to hear the last part. Brass was writing everything down and Catherine was nodding in understanding.
"Okay, you need to tell us what you touched in the room, so we can rule you out," Nick looked to the young maid who told him;
"Just door on way in, the curtains…and that's all," She sighed, weary from the mornings events.
"We need to take your fingerprints just to corroborate…prove that's what happened, okay?" She nodded and Catherine took the young woman's prints and put them securely in her kit. Brass waved to them as he climbed back into his Taurus, ready to return to HQ. The exhaustion had finally begun to set in on Catherine, fighting to keep her eyes open during her shift. She hadn't had a day off in three weeks and was ready to burn out. She felt like she was running on nothing, a zombie.
They walked into the hotel foyer and asked the receptionist for the room number of the incident. They took the elevator, crime scene kits in hand up to the tenth floor. As they reached the room, Catherine smiled wryly,
"Murder central," She sighed,
"Huh?" Nick had no idea what she meant.
"Murder central, the room on the end of a hallway. Fifty percent less chance of someone hearing you and right next to the stairs, so a killer can make and easy getaway," She shook her head, "The poor girl had no chance,"
As they entered the room, they were met with chaos. The chairs and bedside cabinet were over-turned, blood covered every wall like a thick paint and there in the centre of the bed, a woman her throat slashed. Pulling on her latex gloves, Catherine took out her camera and took multiple photos of the body from four angles.
"Looks like she bled out, but we'll let Doc Robbins confirm," Nick said, as he knelt down to pick up a tiny fiber on her blouse with his tweezers.
"Looks like a fiber from a sweater," Nick commented on the small, purple thread. He sealed it in a bag and continued to flash his Maglite across the scene. Catherine tweezed a small hair from the bed, it was blonde. The vic was a brunette,
"This hair could belong to our killer," Catherine said, before sealing it in a bag.
"Is there a skin tag?" Nick asked, he knew if there was no skin tag there was no DNA.
"Oh yeah," Catherine smiled, "Rich in DNA this one," she replied. After they had collected all of the evidence they could find and taken three rolls of pictures they packed up their crime scene kits and vacated the room. When they got back to the foyer, Catherine spoke to the receptionist,
"We will need a contact number for Carlos Landon; we will be arranging an interview with him when he gets back from his meeting,"
"That won't be until late this afternoon I'm afraid, but here's his cell number," the receptionist handed Catherine a small slip of paper with a number scrawled on it.
"Thank you, we shall be contacting him do you have a rough approximation to when he will be available to talk with us?"
"Well his meeting finishes at five but he will be leaving straight after that, you'll have to come back tomorrow morning, you have no legitimate reason to speak with him urgently at present do you?" The receptionist sounded a tad suspicious to Nick.
"We need to speak with him whenever possible, we will be back tomorrow morning, make sure he is made aware of that," Catherine added, her tone bordering on icy, but she curtailed it.
Nick and Catherine went back out to the SUV and Catherine sighed,
"Nick, can you drive? I think we'll end up on Dr Robbins' table if I do," she chuckled, her partner smiling, he seemed so alive even though they were doing the same shifts. She wondered to herself how he managed to stay awake on these twenty-odd hour shifts.
"Sure thing Cath," He gave her a wink and a small smile that Catherine always seemed to melt at. There was just something about him that made her smile. Before they turned to get into the SUV Nick piped up,
"You wanna go get a coffee, some breakfast?" The look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know and he laughed, as she looked ready to eat him!
"Yeah food, coffee and sleep," She sighed.
"The first two yeah, the third keep dreamin'" Nick put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into him. This surprised Catherine, she never saw Nick as the kind of guy who was intimate like that. He gently smoothed a stray strand of hair from her face and looked at her. Wow, he has nice eyes, she thought to herself as she couldn't tear her own eyes away from him. What happened next surprised her even more; he leant in close to her and gently kissed her forehead. She pulled him into her and her lips found his in the early Las Vegas sunshine, her hair blowing in a light breeze. Nick's hands held her close and gently touched her back and her shoulders.
When they broke from this most unlikely embrace, they got into the SUV and drove to Tut's Tomb to grab that well-earned coffee and a bagel. As they ate, neither seemed uncomfortable about what had happened in the parking lot, which surprised Catherine. She thought it would feel awkward, that they wouldn't be able to make eye contact. Even so, they were laughing and joking just as they were before today.
"So what's after this?" Catherine yawned, then took a sip of her Espresso.
"Back to the lab, give the evidence to Hodges and run these prints into AFIS, see if our maid's record is as clean as her job," Nick answered, mouth filled with doughnut.
"Nice, you know maybe one day, Griss will let us have a vacation that he'll pay for," Cath laughed.
"No chance," Nick shook his head, "he wouldn't even let us have the time if WE were paying for it," He laughed dryly.
They paid for their breakfast and walked back out into the Las Vegas sunshine and Cath smiled at Nick and sighed before saying;
"It's gonna be a long day,"