Disclaimer: I do not own CSI:NY or its characters. The plot, however, is my own.
A/N: Thank you to Lily Moonlight for the read through - and help with that sentence! And to Sonnet Lacewing for the candy!
Chapter One – Ups and Downs
The body lay awkwardly in the corner of the elevator, its shoulders propped up against the metal wall and its eyes half open, as if taking a final look at its surroundings. Mac looked grim as he studied it. This was not something he needed; a dead body in the precinct would bring Jordan Gates to his office like a bear after honey. He looked behind him where Hammerback and Stella were stood in the same surprised silence that the rest of the station was wearing. It seemed impossible that someone had been able to walk into the building and dump the body of a man, who was by no means small, without being seen.
"Uniform found him about five minutes ago. They called the elevator and found we had a surprise guest," Stella said, her hands on her hips. "No one has any clue how he got in here."
"Well he didn't walk here, that's for sure," Sid said. "He's got the blues. Died lying on his left sideand not on his back." He moved back to the body, almost reverential in the look he gave it.
Mac looked at him, wondering once again how long it would be before he started to see things the way Sid did. "Lividity is present along the left arm and is fixed. So we know he's been dead at least eight hours. Stella, who's on call? The last time I look there were no free detectives; everyone was out or with suspects."
"Flack and Angell," she said. "I've tried calling them but the cell network's down."
Mac rubbed his chin, thinking. "There's no one else?" She shook her head. "What time's Danny due on shift?"
Stella shrugged. "He only went home about two hours ago, and I don't think he was feeling too good."
Mac sighed, nodding. "This bug's taken down half the department already." He crouched by the body, looking at it once more, the sight finally becoming believable. "I'll go get Flack and Angell – I know where they are." Mac looked up, grey eyes focusing on his colleague. "Stella, are you okay to start processing the scene?"
"Sure. I've got one of the uniforms pulling CCTV footage as we speak, so this could end up being cut and dried," she said, raising her eyebrows, a look of irony on her face.
Mac shot her a wry grin. "Let's see," he said. "Nothing's ever that simple round here." He discarded his latex gloves and headed to the door. "I'll be back in ten."
Stella looked at Sid, any comments about Detective Taylor unsaid. Why he knew the whereabouts of two detectives when they were off-shift was anyone's guess, and both she and Sid were beyond trying to work him out. She surveyed the scene, sharp eyes looking for small things that could give some detail to this man's story. Nothing immediately grabbed her. She squatted by the body and inserted gloved fingers into his trouser pockets, pulling out a wallet. She flicked it open. A faculty pass from New York University School of Law looked at her. "Brian Goddard," she said as Sid looked at the ID over her shoulder. "Professor of Legal Ethics. Aged fifty-two."
"Always good to have a name," Sid said, his gaze returning to the deceased form of Brian Goddard.
"It does help," Stella said, looking at the inside wall of the elevator. From the looks of it, the elevator had been recently cleaned; no litter, no greasy fingerprints from cops who had just eaten street food, no signs of any hairs. "Sid," she said. "When do the elevators get cleaned?"
"About eight each evening," he said. "There's a lovely young cleaner named Victoria who I often converse with. She's studying at NYU actually; in fact, she may well know our victim here."
"That means he must have been put here after eight. It also means that we have a greater chance of any fibres or fingerprints being from whoever dumped the body, as everything left previously would have been cleared," she said, finding what she needed in her tool kit and dusting the hand rail for prints. Nothing.
She began to scan the body for fibres or any other bits of trace while Sid stood back. As soon as she determined that there was nothing that would be lost by the removal of the body it could be moved to the morgue for post-mortem. "It's clear, Sid," she said after the passing of a few minutes. "I can't find anything. I hope this doesn't set the precedent for this case."
Sid stood. "There has to be something left somewhere. I'm interested to know what he's holding in his hand."
Stella looked at the hand. She had already noticed it, but hadn't yet given it any thought, doing the job of processing the scene in stages to not miss anything. "Cadaveric spasm," she said. "Suggesting that death occurred at a time of physical or emotional stress. So he would have died in this position."
With gentle hands, Sid moved the body forward, away from the back wall of the elevator. "Gun shot wound to the back of the neck," he said. "Bullet should still be in there as I doubt his clothes have been changed since he was killed – the killer wouldn't have been able to manipulate the body. And this is definitely murder, by the way. There's no way he could have shot himself in that position. Although assisted suicide would be an option."
"So if he'd had these clothes on for at least eight hours why's there no trace on the front of his shirt or trousers?" Stella said, mystified. "It's like someone's vacuumed him." She stood up, taking off her gloves.
"Stranger things have been known," Sid said. "If you're okay to wait here with the body I'll go fetch one of the assistants. I'm surprised we haven't had more of an audience." He looked around, as if expecting a mass crowd to suddenly appear. The only spectator had been the officer who was now checking the cameras for any unusual events caught on film.
"Every where's short staffed," Stella said. "This bug really has taken its toll." She looked up to see Mac returning, Angell and Flack walking behind, both dressed for dinner. "Been somewhere nice?" she said after filling them in on the name of the deceased, noticing that both looked on the darker side of happy.
"We were somewhere nice," Flack said. "A place where there was no Mr Dead staring at me. How did he get in here?"
"Probably through the delivery door in the basement," Angell said. Three pairs of eyes starred at her. "The vending machine company was scheduled to make a delivery this evening. The door would have been opened – and given the fact that nearly everyone is sick I imagine it would have been left unattended while they brought the stock into the elevator."
Stella saw Flack's eyes widen. "How do you know about vending machine delivery dates?" he said, looking intrigued.
"The call to confirm the order came through to me yesterday by mistake," she explained briefly. "I've seen them do the delivery before and there would have been ample time for someone to walk in." She pushed up one of the straps of the dress she was wearing. Clearly the evening had been an important one seeing how both were dressed.
Mac looked away as he heard Sid approach with one of the morgue assistants. "There's no CCTV at that door," he said. "If they ventured no further than the basement we won't get any coverage of them whatsoever. That cut and dried case you mentioned, Stella, just got a lot less so."
No one spoke for a moment as they watched Sid and his assistant begin to place the corpse into a body bag, working in silence as there was no need for speech; the routine practised too many times already. The sound of the zipper as it closed together the two sides of material reverberated around the corridor and into the open elevator. It called finality.
"How soon can you conduct the autopsy?" Mac said. Sid stood back as the morgue assistant pushed the trolley away from the elevators.
"I can do it straight away. I think it takes precedence since it was found here," he said. "Feel free to join me."
Mac gave a wry smile. He had no issues with being present at autopsies, unlike Flack who tended to avoid such events. Even Angell has been present in Sid's morgue more than Flack. "I'll be there shortly," he said, looking at Stella who was wearing a puzzled expression.
"How did whoever dumped the body know that the door would be open at that time?" Stella said, her brow furrowed.
"It was possibly just chance," Flack said. "Though why you'd come anywhere near a police station with a DB is beyond me."
"Maybe we were meant to find it," Stella said, her eyes scanning inside the elevator once again. "But if we were then that would mean someone knew that door would be open."
"Someone could have been informed by the vending company, or by someone who works here," Angell said. "They would have to have been told as the deliveries aren't routine."
Flack looked at her and nodded his agreement. "The machines are stocked roughly every three weeks. When the snickers bars start getting low someone puts in an order. The last time they were restocked was about two and a bit weeks ago - it was the Monday after Jimmy Donahue got shot making an arrest. The vending company forgot to stock up on Grandma's Cookies." Stella's eyes focused on Flack's disgruntled expression momentarily. She wondered if he and Angell had gotten to eat anything before Mac had got them. If not, Angell was probably in for a tough evening.
Stella focused her attentions back on the insides of the elevator. "Mac, I'm going to go over this again. There has to be something here, a hair or a fingerprint."
Mac nodded. "Feel free, Stella. But if you didn't find anything the first time, I doubt there was anything there," he said. "We can hope Sid finds something, as somewhere there is a primary crime scene which we need to discover pretty quickly. Brian Goddard has been dead at least eight hours already. The trail left by his killer is cold already."
Flack inspected the wallet, taking in the details. "If we're not needed here," he said. "I suggest that we head over to the university and find out a little more about our vic. I'll have one of my men see if anyone filed a missing persons report - if any of my men are available."
"Keep me informed of anything your find," Mac said "With a bit of luck it'll be soon. We've too many officers out of action already and if this becomes complicated we could end up with a back log that'll take us till Christmas to sift through." He watched as Stella began to process the scene, her eyes, he knew, would miss nothing. "I'll process the back door and the elevator controls in the basement." She acknowledge his words with a nod, and he left, knowing that there was little chance of any sleep tonight.
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