Sitting in the ambulance, legs dangling from the open doors, I watched my shaking hands in consternation.
Stupid, stupid, I thought bitterly, clenching my fists in a vain attempt to stop the trembling of my limbs.
The blood on my arms had dried to a crusty black and when I took in a deep breath I could smell its metallic tang. Viciously pushing back my hair I realised that it had fallen from its ponytail. In fact my hair band had fallen out completely. Obviously lost it in the struggle, even to me my inner voice sounded bleak.
Once more I dropped my head in my hands, ignoring the butt of my gun as it dug into my waist. It felt good; solid, and that's what I needed right now, a little comfort. I heard the sound of my gun firing once more, saw the spurt of blood against my closed lids, smelt the acidic burn of gunpowder. A tear squeezed itself from my eyes.
'Officer Simone?'
The voice shocked me, and I jerked my head up, careful to wipe away that traitorous drop of fluid.
'Sir?'
I took in the man before me, registering his grey salt and pepper hair, the soft blue of his eyes, the round-framed glasses and the inquisitive tilt of his head.
He glanced down at a file in his hands.
'You are Officer Josephine Simone?'
I nodded, pushing away a stray lock of hair.
'Jo. I go by Jo.'
The man before me nodded.
'Gill Grissom, I'm with the crime unit. You were first at the scene?'
'Yeah.' I chewed nervously on my lower lip, wrapping my arms around myself and shivering against the cold.
'Have you been seen to yet? That's a nasty cut.'
I raised a hand to my forehead, feeling the deep gash there, the crust of dried blood and the wet of fresh.
'No, not yet. They were busy with the victim.' I stared up at Grissom, looking into his inquisitive eyes and feeling strangely empty. Shit, I'm in shock. I shook my head slightly. C'mon, Jo. Get a grip.
'Are you sure you're alright?' His voice was all business but soft.
'Yeah, yeah. I'm fine.' I cleared my throat, looking around me at the chaos of the crime scene.
'The neighbour called it in. Miss Walters; widow. She heard shouting, it was so bad that she was scared and rang in for assistance.'
Taking a breath I winced as pain shot through my head.
'By the time I arrived to the scene the house was silent. I knocked but no one answered, so I tested the door and it was unlocked.
Upon entering I could see that there was a body, except. . .' here I couldn't help the slight catch in my voice, 'the vic wasn't dead. There appeared to be numerous knife wounds. He was bleeding out, right there on the carpet.
I called for assistance and began treating his wounds; applying pressure. I was talking to him, telling him that help was on the way. Then his eyes strayed behind me and I turned just in time to see the hit coming. I just couldn't get out of the way in time.'
Grissom's eyes returned once more to the large gash on my forehead, noting that a bruise was already forming.
'A fight ensued. I was forced to draw my gun.'
Grissom asked whether I had discharged my weapon, even though it was obvious from the wound in the second vic to know that I had.
'Yes.' Was my reply as Ireached into her holster and pulled out my firearm.
'You'll be wanting this.'
Grissom held my eye.
'Yes, I do. Thank you.' He raked his eyes across the slump of my shoulders, the dried blood covering every part of exposed skin, before returning once more to my eyes..
'And I need to take your clothes as well. I've arranged a change of clothes.'
Reaching into the bag at his feet he pulled out one of the crime scene jumpsuits.
I nodded, taking the suit and standing. Grissom turned around and, obscured by the open ambulance doors, I removed all my clothing; jacket, shirt and trousers; the whole uniform. Stepping into the blue jumpsuit I winced once more as another wave of pain shot through my head.
When I turned around to hand over my clothes, I swayed slightly on my feet, feeling as Grissom's hand curled around my forearm to steady me.
'I think you're suffering from concussion, officer.' He maintained his hold on my arm.
'It's Jo.' I muttered. 'And I'm fine. I'll make sure I'm checked out at the station. Have you got everything you needed?'
Grissom pinned me with his eyes clearing expressing his disapproval of my flippancy. Screw this, I thought angry, wanting only to get a hot cup of black coffee and a cigarette. I hadn't smoked in over two years but suddenly it seemed like a desirable habit. I could almost taste the smoke in my mouth.
'Yes. I'll be sending one of my team to sit in during your interview. I hope you feel better.'
I nodded, careful that as I walked away from him and towards my waiting car that I didn't stumble or show any outwards signs of weakness. It was obvious that this guy never missed a trick.
Stupid, stupid, I thought bitterly, clenching my fists in a vain attempt to stop the trembling of my limbs.
The blood on my arms had dried to a crusty black and when I took in a deep breath I could smell its metallic tang. Viciously pushing back my hair I realised that it had fallen from its ponytail. In fact my hair band had fallen out completely. Obviously lost it in the struggle, even to me my inner voice sounded bleak.
Once more I dropped my head in my hands, ignoring the butt of my gun as it dug into my waist. It felt good; solid, and that's what I needed right now, a little comfort. I heard the sound of my gun firing once more, saw the spurt of blood against my closed lids, smelt the acidic burn of gunpowder. A tear squeezed itself from my eyes.
'Officer Simone?'
The voice shocked me, and I jerked my head up, careful to wipe away that traitorous drop of fluid.
'Sir?'
I took in the man before me, registering his grey salt and pepper hair, the soft blue of his eyes, the round-framed glasses and the inquisitive tilt of his head.
He glanced down at a file in his hands.
'You are Officer Josephine Simone?'
I nodded, pushing away a stray lock of hair.
'Jo. I go by Jo.'
The man before me nodded.
'Gill Grissom, I'm with the crime unit. You were first at the scene?'
'Yeah.' I chewed nervously on my lower lip, wrapping my arms around myself and shivering against the cold.
'Have you been seen to yet? That's a nasty cut.'
I raised a hand to my forehead, feeling the deep gash there, the crust of dried blood and the wet of fresh.
'No, not yet. They were busy with the victim.' I stared up at Grissom, looking into his inquisitive eyes and feeling strangely empty. Shit, I'm in shock. I shook my head slightly. C'mon, Jo. Get a grip.
'Are you sure you're alright?' His voice was all business but soft.
'Yeah, yeah. I'm fine.' I cleared my throat, looking around me at the chaos of the crime scene.
'The neighbour called it in. Miss Walters; widow. She heard shouting, it was so bad that she was scared and rang in for assistance.'
Taking a breath I winced as pain shot through my head.
'By the time I arrived to the scene the house was silent. I knocked but no one answered, so I tested the door and it was unlocked.
Upon entering I could see that there was a body, except. . .' here I couldn't help the slight catch in my voice, 'the vic wasn't dead. There appeared to be numerous knife wounds. He was bleeding out, right there on the carpet.
I called for assistance and began treating his wounds; applying pressure. I was talking to him, telling him that help was on the way. Then his eyes strayed behind me and I turned just in time to see the hit coming. I just couldn't get out of the way in time.'
Grissom's eyes returned once more to the large gash on my forehead, noting that a bruise was already forming.
'A fight ensued. I was forced to draw my gun.'
Grissom asked whether I had discharged my weapon, even though it was obvious from the wound in the second vic to know that I had.
'Yes.' Was my reply as Ireached into her holster and pulled out my firearm.
'You'll be wanting this.'
Grissom held my eye.
'Yes, I do. Thank you.' He raked his eyes across the slump of my shoulders, the dried blood covering every part of exposed skin, before returning once more to my eyes..
'And I need to take your clothes as well. I've arranged a change of clothes.'
Reaching into the bag at his feet he pulled out one of the crime scene jumpsuits.
I nodded, taking the suit and standing. Grissom turned around and, obscured by the open ambulance doors, I removed all my clothing; jacket, shirt and trousers; the whole uniform. Stepping into the blue jumpsuit I winced once more as another wave of pain shot through my head.
When I turned around to hand over my clothes, I swayed slightly on my feet, feeling as Grissom's hand curled around my forearm to steady me.
'I think you're suffering from concussion, officer.' He maintained his hold on my arm.
'It's Jo.' I muttered. 'And I'm fine. I'll make sure I'm checked out at the station. Have you got everything you needed?'
Grissom pinned me with his eyes clearing expressing his disapproval of my flippancy. Screw this, I thought angry, wanting only to get a hot cup of black coffee and a cigarette. I hadn't smoked in over two years but suddenly it seemed like a desirable habit. I could almost taste the smoke in my mouth.
'Yes. I'll be sending one of my team to sit in during your interview. I hope you feel better.'
I nodded, careful that as I walked away from him and towards my waiting car that I didn't stumble or show any outwards signs of weakness. It was obvious that this guy never missed a trick.