Chapter 1

Mac Taylor pulled up in front of the house with a squeal of tyres. Shutting off the engine, he grabbed his silver-cased forensics kit and jumped out. In several swift steps he was up the path and at the door. Under normal circumstances Mac would not be running up the steps in jeans, trainers and t-shirt. Under normal circumstances he would be straightening his jacket, calmly ducking under crime scene tape, greeting fellow officers, searching for Flack or the lead detective but these weren't normal circumstances. Mac looked around as he rang the doorbell; the anonymous suburban street was completely deserted other than a few parked cars and a child's toy abandoned on a nearby lawn. There were no squad cars, no flashing lights, no police, no crime scene tape. Most of the residents had retired for the night and only one or two windows showed lights behind closed curtains with the exception of the house opposite where the net curtains flicked back and forth several times. Mac smiled to himself; nosy neighbours could sometimes come in useful. Sounds of footsteps coming down the hall pulled his attention away from the street. The door was pulled open and light flooded the area of garden in front of the house.

"Mac, thank you for coming. I know it's your first day off in ..."

Mac held up his hand to cut him off. "It's not a problem Sid. Are you all right? And Jenny?" Mac placed his hand on Sid's arm, his voice full of concern. His friend looked worried. He could see it in his eyes and by the way he dragged his hand through his hair.

Sid nodded. "We're fine Mac. Jenny's in the kitchen." Sid held out his arm and Mac went through to the kitchen though he didn't need to be told where it was. As he entered the warm open plan kitchen, the young woman at the family-sized table got up and held out her arms. Mac put down his case and put his arms around her. He'd known Sid's family for many years and seen Jenny grow up from an active happy-go-lucky toddler into a bright vivacious young woman endowed with the same witty intellect as her father.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he took in her pale face. He felt her tremble slightly.

Jenny nodded. "I'm fine Mac." Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke and she took a deep breath. "I'm just glad it wasn't Mom who found it. She's away visiting Aunt Sara. Despite being married to an ME, Mom doesn't deal too well with this kind of thing." She smiled weakly at Mac and he could see that she was shaken by the experience but doing her best to remain calm. She nervously tucked her long blond hair behind her ear.

"Sit yourself down. I'll take it from here." Mac guided her back to a seat at the table. Jenny nodded and smiled at Mac. She was relieved to see him; somehow he always inspired confidence in her and she knew her father trusted him more than anyone else he knew. She wrapped her hands around the cup of hot chocolate on the table. As Mac picked up his bag he heard voices from the hall and Sid came in with Don. Mac flicked his head at Don and they both went out the back door and into the yard. Sid followed them closing the door behind him. The three men walked a short way across the grass and stopped in front of a large tree. Mac placed his case on the ground and pulled a pair of latex gloves from his pocket.

"It is real I suppose?" asked Don grimacing as he stared up at the macabre sight in front of him.

"Oh yes!" began Sid. "With that amount of decay, I would estimate that it is some years old. Male, Caucasian, probably between forty and sixty. It's certainly been buried, then dug up and wired together before being ..." Sid held out his hand not sure what word to use to describe it. Despite his years as a medical examiner and the hundreds of dead bodies he'd seen this was the first one that made him feel physically sick. Sid ran his hand through his hair again at a loss for words.

Mac moved closer to the corpse that was hung from the tree in the centre of Sid's garden. He ran his pen light over the yellowed bones still covered with the greyed remnants of burial clothes. He noticed traces of dirt on both the clothes and the bones poking through them. Moving upward to the skull he caught glints of silver where wire had been used to join the bones together. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to ensure that this skeleton remained intact. Mac slowly circled the tree examining in detail the corpse, the clothes, the rope, the tree and the surrounding area.

"And your daughter found it?" asked Don pulling his notebook and pen from his pocket.

Sid sighed deeply before answering. "Yes, we'd been out this evening. My wife's away visiting her sister so Jenny and I thought we would treat ourselves to dinner at Angelo's. We left around seven and got back just before ten. I was closing up and Jenny went out into the garden to find Mort."

"Mort?"

"Our cat. Short for Morticia." explained Sid still staring transfixed by the body hanging from his prize flowering cherry. He failed to catch the look that Don threw him.

"Great! A cat named Morticia." muttered Flack to himself. Not only was he allergic to cats but now he had to live with the knowledge that Sid had named his cat after one of his favourite TV show characters. He rubbed at his nose automatically not because he was affected by the cat, just by the thought of it. Why did he always catch the cases involving cats? He jotted down a few notes in his book. "Did either of you notice anything unusual … er … apart from the … er ..." Don gesticulated toward the cadaver that Mac was still assiduously examining.

"No. There were no signs that anyone had been in the house or the yard. While I was waiting for you I spoke to my neighbour, Mrs Harris over the road; she said she hadn't seen anything unusual this evening and believe me she would know if anything was going on! You may still want to have a word with her though."

Don nodded, not looking forward to that if Sid's face was anything to go by. and indicated that he'd interview Jenny and the neighbours. As he turned to go he asked Mac if he needed anything.

Mac's face was unreadable as he turned around. "No Don you go ahead. Sid, have you got a ladder?" Mac watched as both men left. He turned back to the partially dressed skeleton and pointed his light at the skull. Desiccated flesh still clung to one cheek and the hair stuck up in matted tufts across the top of the skull but it was the orbs that held his interest. One was empty but the other had something black and shiny poking out from it. Mac had a horrible feeling he knew what it was. He picked up his camera and took some over-alls, the glare from the flashes sending little beams of light across Sid's beautiful garden that would now be forever marred by the obscenity hung in it's centre.

Sid came round the side of the house carrying a ladder. He was followed by Sheldon Hawkes who was carrying his kit and a tarpaulin wrapped in plastic. Sheldon nodded a greeting to Mac, his face grim. He stared at the body for a moment, his mind working overtime.

"Is this some kind of sick joke?" he asked them in his usual quiet voice as his eyes took in every detail.

"No it's more than that." said Mac, his voice hard. Slinging the camera over his shoulder he took the ladder from Sid and set it up in front of the tree. As he climbed, Sid and Sheldon walked around to see more clearly what Mac was up to. Mac stopped half way up and swung the camera round. He clicked off a couple of shots. Both Sid and Sheldon peered at the skull having caught a glimpse of what Mac appeared to be interested in. Mac reached out to the skull and carefully removed a small black object from the eye socket. He looked at it for a moment and then descended the ladder.

Mac held up the item between his gloved fingers for them to see.

Sid frowned as he peered at it. "It's a chess piece."

"A bishop to be exact." Sheldon looked puzzled as he looked between the small black object and his boss. "You don't seem surprised."

"I'm not." said Mac to both men's astonishment. "That's because Sid is not the first victim."

'.'

'CSI - NY'

'.'

Rowan Leech sat in his old run-down van and watched as Detective Mac Taylor and the men who had ruined his life said their goodbyes. Earlier a dark blue coroner's van had arrived and quietly reversed up the drive-way. One man and one woman had got out, unlocked the rear doors leaving them open so that it was impossible to see what was happening behind it. They had taken little more than six minutes before they had closed the doors, got back in and left with the body. Rowan Leech was a little disappointed. He had hoped for more of a show, at least a few sirens and flashing lights. He took a bite of his sandwich and rubbed a drip of mayonnaise into his trousers not caring about one extra stain. Still he had achieved his objective. Now for the next move.