Disclaimer: Not mine, only playing with them.

Little John Doe

Monday
First week of September
JAC Headquarters
"Are you ready to go?" Harm poked his head around the doorpost. Mac looked up.
"Come in. Yes, almost ready. Just have to select the few files I will need this weekend.
While she was selecting the files, Harm sat in the visitor's chair and picked up the single one sitting at the corner of her desk. Absent minded he flipped through it.
"Are you still working on that one?" he asked surprised. "I thought we run out of clues?"
Mac nodded a bit sadly. "Yes, we did. Plus it's in the hands of the police now. But this is just one of those …"She shrugged helplessly.
"One of those that keep haunting you," he completed her sentence.
Mac gave him a grateful smile and brushed his hand in passing by. Her thoughts lingered a moment with the case and with the aftermath for them personally. It had been that case which led her to make the one of the worst mistakes of her life. A mistake that almost had cost her her relation with Harm. She couldn't suppress a smile. Harm. Back then her co-worker, partner and friend. Now her fiancé. Unaware her thumb rubbed her ring. The beautiful ring Harm had presented her with, only weeks before. He had been so cute, almost stuttering and tripping over his words. Offering all he possessed and more. Like he didn't know she needed only one thing: his love.
In the meantime Harm patiently waited till she was finished.
"Do you mind I take a look at this?" he asked.
She raised a brow. "No, be my guest."

That evening he started reading. It was the case of the little boy, found dead next to the Navy base almost a year ago. Little John Doe. For a moment Harm was tempted to put the file aside. After all, it wasn't a time in his life he liked to think back to. Then he pulled himself together. All had turned out right. Mac was his now; they were engaged to be married. It was time to put this little guy to rest. He deserved it.
Slowly and meticulously he read. Reports of finding the boy, the coroner's report, forensic reports on the clothing and blanket he had been wrapped in. There were pictures. Harm swallowed. Pictures were always hard to look at, especially when it concerned children.
He reread the coroner's report. Apparently the boy had been killed by exposure, since no injuries had been found. No sign of asphyxia as well but … Harm's eyes narrowed. There was something odd, something he couldn't pinpoint. Yet.

Over the next week the case kept spinning in his mind. Harm knew he had been staring at the, well, maybe not the solution but at least some pieces of the puzzle. So that weekend he set himself once more to solve the mystery once more.
It was late Saturday evening and Mac had gone to bed already. Momentarily distracted Harm furrowed his brows. It was not like her to go to bed early. True, the past weeks had been busy but not enough to warrant the fatigue his tough as nails Marine expressed. Maybe the stress of planning their wedding got the better of her, even though it was still a few months away, in the second week of January. No running tomorrow, he decided; he would let her sleep in. Maybe she was just a bit under the weather.
He studied the pictures once more. There was something odd. At On the pictures made at the coroner's vague lividity marks were visible on the chest and tummy of the little boy. But when the baby was found, he was wrapped in a blanket, lying on his back. If he had been left to die there, the marks should have been on his back and buttocks.
Harm rubbed his temples. He thought back to the previous summer. There had been a couple of cases in which the Navy had enlisted the help of a profiler, Arthur Santiago. They had spent a lot of time together and Arthur had given Harm a crash course in profiling and lent him some books. Harm had found it very interesting and useful. In the meantime Arthur had become a friend and they regular spend time together. Being a vegetarian as well, Arthur even seemed to like his meatless meatloaf. This to Mac's abhorrence, who had hoped to see the last of what she once titled as 'toxic waste'.
Now Harm decided to put his meagre skills to work.
First he focused on the spot the baby was found. Arthur taught him that alone told a lot about the perpetrator's motives. Since the baby was left next to the base's entrance it was unlikely that the perpetrator had wanted to hide him. There would have been much better places to dispose of a body and although it had been freezing that night, the soil hadn't been frozen yet. A small grave would have been dug easily. Nor did he think the boy had been exposed to make some kind of a statement. If so it should have been in a more displaying way and maybe there would have been more cases. So on the contrary, it looked like he or she had wanted him to be found quickly. Harm checked the report on discovering the body. Indeed, it had been 6.45am when the little corpse was found, the moment the guards did their final rounds before there was the change of guard.
The next thing was the blanket. Most of the times wrapping a body in a blanket was either to disguise it or express care or a feeling of remorse. Since he already ruled out disguise Harm went for care. After all, what reason could there be to kill a tiny infant and then feel remorseful?
The little clothes spoke about care as well. Although not new, one or two little rips were mended meticulously. What little the boy had in the way of hair was combed and the boy was washed and was wearing a clean diaper. Not a trace of urine had been found. He had been redressed after death.
So, care it was!
Following this line of thought he ruled out murder as well. After all, no evidence of intentional death had been found. Exposed to the cold to kill him? That didn't fit with the care. So his death might have been either unintentional or even natural. For now he went with natural. Wasn't there something ... he turned to the computer. It took only a short search.
SIDS, sudden infant death syndrome. The syndrome that left babies dead in their crib, unharmed, with no visible cause of death. What if ... what if the baby had died because of SIDS?
But why … ? Why had his parents or caretakers left him in the woods, to be found and buried by strangers? There must be a reason they could not bury their little son themselves.
Harm studied the pictures of the little face. It was almost as if the boy was sleeping. He had dark hair and a lightly coloured skin.
Slowly a hypothesis started to unfold.
An illegal immigrant family. Maybe from Mexico, El Salvador or Guatemala.
The woman getting pregnant.
The fear of going to a regular doctor.
Giving birth to a baby boy, maybe with the help of a midwife or one of those little 'don't ask, don't tell' clinics.
The horrible discovery of their precious child, dead in his crib.
The dilemma. Report the death of their baby would certainly lead to an investigation, followed by deportation to their home country.
At the same time the parents couldn't bear the thought of just disposing of the body. Their child deserved a proper burial. So they made a tough decision.
Harm pictured the scene. The mother with tears in her eyes, the father, his face wrecked with grief. Slowly, careful not to make a sound they approached the base. Finding the right spot where their precious cargo would be discovered right away. A last caress, a last tender kiss of goodbye. Then they disappeared into the night.
At home there were the tears, the vacant room and the empty crib. Probably they had followed the news, bought papers. There had been several broadcasts about the little boy, several articles in the papers, pictures of the funeral.
Suddenly he grabbed the report again. Yes, the boy was found on October 23rd. With his estimated age no older than five weeks that made his date of birth in the third or fourth week of September. He had to act fast.

In the morning he set out his hypothesis to Mac. Het showed her the research he had done. Among other things he had found that boys are more vulnerable to SIDS and both letting an infant sleep while lying on the stomach or the side as a too warm a cover increased the risk. Since the boy had lividity marks on his chest and tummy he probably died while sleeping on his stomach. The cold could have lured the parents into covering their baby too well.
Mac nodded thoughtfully. He could be right. It might solve the mystery how little John Doe had died. But it didn't bring them any closer about who he was.
"What do you suggest we do now?" she asked.
Harm had thought about that too. "First I want to invite Arthur," he said. "I want to discuss whether he can back up my presumptions. Then I want to talk to NCIS. To the police this is a cold case now. But still … somehow I feel responsible. After all, he has been left only a few yards from a Navy base. If the boy was born in the third week of September, his first birthday would have been somewhere in the next week or weeks. I bet his parents will want to visit the grave. Maybe we can set up surveillance or at least cameras."
He reached for the phone. "I'll call Arthur right away."

Same evening
Harm's loft
Luckily Arthur had been free and willing to visit them the same day. Harm had invited him for dinner and at 17.45, dinner simmering on the stove, they sat and Harm filled his friend in on the case.
"Now you know as much as we do," he ended. "After dinner I'll show you the reports. I know it's against regulation to show them to a third party but you have worked with us previously. I don't think it will cause much trouble."
Arthur nodded." I will have to read the reports for myself but for now your line of thoughts seem very plausible. I suggest we have dinner and then I take an hour or so to read the reports myself. After that we can go over them once again and try to come up with a plan."

Monday morning
NCIS building
The phone rang on the desk of senior field agent Tony Dinozzo. Glad with the distraction he answered and moment later he was on his way to reception. He had a visitor.
Downstairs he shook Harm's hand and asked what he could do. To his surprise Harm pulled an old familiar file out of his briefcase. "I'd like a word about this. Is there a place where we can talk?"
Tony ushered him to a small conference room and got them both a cup of coffee.
"You might wonder why I come to you with this file again but I noticed you were the first agent on the scene back then," Harm started. "After that the case was handed to the Washington police."
"I remember. I take it the case was never closed?"
"No. All leads led to nothing."
"And now? Are there new ones?"
"Not exactly new leads but new insights," Harm told him. "You know, after the case was transferred to the police, JAG wasn't involved anymore either. But initially it was Lt. Colonel MacKenzie who handled the case. It became one of those cases, well you know, that keep haunting you."
Tony nodded; he had one or two of those in his desk drawer and he was sure his co-workers had, too. All agents had.
"Last week I spotted the file on her desk and asked whether I could take a look. You have to know, I have a friend, Arthur Santiago. He is a profiler and works with JAG on a regular basis, mostly as an expert witness. He taught me the principles of profiling and I just decided to give it a go. When I came up with a possible scenario I discussed it with him and he agreed."
Harm went on with explaining and Tony was a good listener. At the end he said "So now you plan to set up surveillance or a camera at the graveyard in the hope the parents show up. And that's what you want our help for."
Harm nodded; the agent was spot on.
The agent grabbed his phone. "Let me discuss this with Gibbs," he said and walked out of the room for a moment. Five minutes later he was back.
"As I suspected we don't have manpower to set up surveillance. Remember, it isn't our case anymore. But we can set up some cameras and if the parents show up Abby will have a look at the pictures. So let's take it from there and decide further when we have something to decide on."
Harm happily agreed. In fact, it not being their case anymore he already had calculated in the possibility of no help at all.
"I like the camera's to be placed as soon as possible. Remember, the age of little John Doe is just an estimate. He can be a little bit older or younger."
"We will do that," Tony promised.

Last week of September
Harm's loft
There had been a delivery this morning. A stash of cd-roms had appeared on his desk accompanied with a note from Tony Dinozzo. They held the pictures of the camera surveillance at the cemetery. Harm had considered asking the workers on the cemetery to keep an eye on the grave but had decided against it, afraid too much attention would scare off the parents.
Mac otherwise occupied Harm decided to run them. He started with the first, of September 14th, and fast forwarded, stopping only once in a while when someone seemed to pay extra attention to the small grave. But those were all passers-by throwing a look. He almost could hear the comments. 'That's that little boy they found dead last year. Poor, kid, no name. He was only weeks old when they found him. They should hang the people responsible.'
There was no clue in the records of the first day. Nor was there on the second or the third. It was only watching the one of the September 22nd he suddenly sat straight. In the early evening, darkness was already setting in, a man approached the little grave. Het looked around him suspiciously. Then he seemed to say something to a person just out of reach of the camera. Seconds later a young woman appeared, carrying a large bouquet of flowers and a stuffed toy. Carefully she placed both at the grave, resting her hand against the little headstone and bending her head in prayer. The man knelt next to her. After a few moments they both rose and quickly disappeared into the falling night.
Harm checked his watch. It was too late to go to the cemetery but he would go and collect the flowers and the stuffed animal and dust the headstone first thing in the morning. Maybe they contained fingerprints.