Chapter Two
Las Vegas Police Department, Forensics Lab
5:38 a.m.
Grissom's attention flew to the three short but assertive knocks on his door. His train of thought onto his legal pad had been interrupted twice in the past hour now. First it was the county sheriff asking for his complete cooperation with the FBI and reminding him of the last time they were there. Grissom didn't know whom to expect, so he tossed his pen down onto his desk in surrender. "Come in, it's open," he announced.
In walked the most unlikely people he would have picked to be FBI agents. He analyzed their physical features while the man introduced the both of them. "I'm Special Agent Fox Mulder. This is Special Agent Dana Scully. I believe you've been expecting us." The agents retrieved their identification cards and held them up for Grissom to behold.
"That's right," Grissom replied and went back to his notes.
"You must be Gil Grissom," Scully surmised aloud to let Grissom begin the conversation. When he did not answer, she pushed on. "I've been reading up on some of your cases. Is this true that you're an entomologist?"
"Yes, it's true. Could you...give me a minute please to finish up?"
Mulder and Scully eyed one another with curiosity as if either had done something to infuriate him. After a few silent and uncomfortable moments had passed, Mulder broke the silence. "Could we at least see the crime scene?"
"My fellow scientists are there right now breaking it down for you. All right, I didn't get to type these up yet, but here is my preliminary examination of the scene," Grissom handed his notes to Mulder.
"Umm...this is kind of unorthodox. We would have met you there at the scene, but no one informed us of where the body was," Scully said slowly and diplomatically.
"My understanding was that from my evidence, you are here to build a profile. And though this is not much, this is all I have for you for now. Please give me some time," Grissom's tone bordered on angst.
"Please understand, we don't mean to offend you or try to take over the investigation. We're just here to help," Mulder pleaded with him. "Can we please go to the scene of the crime?"
"Excuse me," Grissom pointed to him with a finger as his office phone rang. "Yes? They're here at the lab. Are we all finished up there yet, Catherine? Excellent. I'm going to order out for breakfast. Anything special that anyone wants other than the usual? Right. Okay, report back here as soon as possible."
"While I'm reading yours, why don't you read mine?" Mulder withdrew his illustrious X-Files folder and threw it onto Grissom's bureau. "I already have a profile. That's why I've been kind of itching to see the crime scene and look at fresh evidence."
Grissom nodded coyly as he dialed another number on the phone.
"Yeah, this is Gil Grissom. I'm going to need 2 dozen. All the usual. No, we have plenty of coffee here, thanks. How much do I owe you? Uh-huh, and this is to be delivered to-"
"Look. This...is why we are here. Look familiar?" Mulder ripped his file open and shoved an 8 x 10 photo of a victim shot in the exact same way as the one Grissom had found. She was also a red-head, just like the most recent victim. Grissom finished his sentence less firmly as he stared at the picture.
"Delivered to the Las Vegas crime lab," Grissom trailed off and hung up. "Who was this?"
"Victoria Brady of Boise, Idaho. She was killed not two months ago. She was about 26. How old is this new victim?" Scully questioned Grissom.
"Probably around the same age. So we have an interstate serial killer. I'll know when the coroner finishes his examination with the body," Grissom replied grimly.
"Ah, where is his office? I'd like to be able to examine the body as well. I am a doctor."
"Dr. Robbins usually performs the autopsies by himself. He's very good. Don't worry, you're in good hands," Grissom assured her.
Scully gave him a determined look and a tight lipped smile. "Two minds are better than one, Mr. Grissom. I'm sure we'll get along fine."
"Turn right outside my office and go down the hallway. The morgue is at the end on the right," Grissom agreed and motioned with his hand as he gave directions.
"You've had a bad run-in with the FBI before, haven't you?" Mulder insinuated quietly.
"What gives you that impression?"
"I'll admit that I usually don't like outsiders in on a case assigned to myself and Scully either. But I know that when I'm in over my head on certain matters, I ask for help."
"Who says I'm in over my head? I'm a scientist, Agent Mulder. Evidence tells the truth, not people. It's just a matter of finding the right parts to the puzzle to bring everything into focus."
"And what if the evidence points to something that defies the laws of our science?" Grissom gave him a cold stare; when he noticed Mulder's sincerity, he went back to the X-File. "You see, Mr. Grissom-not everything in the world is explainable. There are some things that we cannot comprehend. And if the evidence is a complete and logical puzzle, then we'll know."
Las Vegas Police Department Morgue
6:08 a.m.
Scully pushed the swinging doors open to discover the coroner Dr. Robbins head banging and playing air guitar to an arrangement of 'Sunshine of Your Love'. He was setting up his recording equipment as well. "Excuse me, Dr. Robbins?" she observed and nearly shocked him to death.
"Who's asking?" he wondered and turned to face her.
"Special Agent Dana Scully, FBI." Dr. Robbins strolled over to his boom box and paused the CD. "Sorry that I gave you a scare. Is this our victim?" She cocked her head to her left, and his eyes followed her to the table.
"I knew that the crime lab was working with the FBI, but I didn't think that I'd be caught up in this mess, too," he grumbled and turned on the operating lamp above his head.
"I'm a qualified pathologist, if that's what's worrying you. I'm used to seeing the dead."
"I'm not worried about that. I don't like federal agents who crowd themselves into my work and usurp my theories."
"And I'm not here to do that. What is it with this place? First we got resistance from Grissom and now you. Is it going to be like this with everyone?" Scully rolled her eyes and soughed. "Believe me, it's going to take a lot more than some nasty local law enforcement officials and coroners to shake me and Mulder from this case, Dr. Robbins. I'm here to help, not give orders. We might as well do the autopsy together. Two pathologists are better than one."
"You're right. Do you want to do the dissecting or shall I?" he agreed as she donned some safety goggles, gloves, and a medical gown.
"It's your lab," she offered and shrugged.
"Okay. First of all, at a first look," Robbins removed the sheet from the head and tucked it around her cleavage, " she appears to be about twenty-six or twenty-seven."
"The gunshot wound is possibly self inflicted. No exit. So this could mean that she was shot post mortem."
"Hmm...good theory. Gil did think that she was strangled to death. I'm also beginning to agree with him, however, there are no markings on her neck to correspond with his guess."
"You're right. No striations or ligature marks are present. I don't see any bruising either."
"I'll just make an incision here to get to the stomach. Um...if you don't mind..." Robbins pointed to the instrument cart behind her, and she handed him the scalpel fluidly in one wrist motion from across the table.
"Are we thinking poison? Because that's what I'm guessing." Scully leaned herself farther in to watch Robbins cut the body open.
"So what brings the FBI here? I'm assuming that you two aren't from the local Vegas branch."
"We have records of 5 other cases just like this. But the coroners all listed them as suicides. Either we have lazy police departments or our killer's just getting sloppy," she surmised. "No, we're not from the regional office. We're from D.C."
"You obviously have some definite medical knowledge. Something tells me that you're not just trained as an agent. Did you go to school to be a doctor?"
"Originally, yes. I quit the med program and traded in my stethoscope for a badge in Washington."
"Seems like a much more glamorous life than being a doctor."
"Not really, with the kind of work that Mulder and I do."
"Who's Mulder?"
"Special Agent Fox Mulder...my partner at the FBI."
"Oh wait. I've heard that name before." Scully's eyes rolled again, and Robbins finished pulling out the stomach. "Yes. Now I know. I subscribe to that magazine that he writes for at time to time."
"Oh brother, which one?"
"NICAP. Very interesting stuff. Your partner's brilliant. Probably too smart for his own good." He opened the organ further and dumped the contents into a beaker. "You don't believe him?"
"Let's just say that I try to keep his head screwed on straight," Scully groaned.
Las Vegas Police Department Forensics Break Room
6:30 a.m.
"Ah...breakfast is here," Nick Stokes declared and smiled in relief as he and his fellow CSI members filed into the break room. The smell of a large brewing coffee pot greeted them as well as the scent of freshly baked doughnuts and other pastries. Grissom removed the pot from the burner and started pouring out styrofoam cups full of the highly addictive stimulant.
"Morning, ladies and gentlemen," Grissom acknowledged his team. "Our visitors are here from the FBI. This is Agent Mulder. The other is Agent Scully, who is now analyzing the body along with Dr. Robbins."
"Hi. I'm sure you're curious as to why Agent Scully and I are here. Well, I'll show you." Mulder pulled out the photographs from his X-file and pinned them up onto the announcement bulletin board. "All of these women have been killed in the last three years. One per six months in a city. Not all of these women are exactly alike in facial features, but as you will notice, all of them have red hair and are about the same age."
"So we have a serial killer on our hands," Sarah observed with a nod.
"There was a blood spray on the wall. The angle of the spray leads me to thinking that the victim did not shoot herself. Warrick, did you finish processing your pictures yet?" Catherine's attention flew over to the door where the very person she was speaking to appeared.
"They're drying as we eat," Warrick stated and grabbed a doughnut from the plate in the center of the table.
"I did some research on what was playing in the stereo when we entered the crime scene," Nick reported. All eyes went to him as he stirred in an enormous amount of non-dairy creamer into his coffee. "The CD itself has prints all over it; I sent it to trace, and we'll know soon about those. The song itself was done by a band called Five For Fighting-the song is named "Jainey"."
"Well done, Nick. See what further evidence you can get from that song," Grissom instructed him.
"Further evidence? All that's left is the fingerprint analysis." Nick's face wrinkled with puzzlement.
"No, he's right. There's a reason why that song was playing for us to find. We need to know what that is-it'll help us continue a profile on him," Mulder interrupted them. "Was there any evidence of sexual activity found on the scene?"
"As a matter of fact, yes. Minute amounts of semen were found on a couch not far away from where the victim was killed. I'm thinking it was rape," Sarah concluded.
"Sorry to burst your bubble, but it was consensual," Scully interrupted them. She leaned into the doorway and removed the latex gloves from her hands. "Examination of the vagina and the fluids found inside prove that."
Mulder acknowledged her presence and extended his hand towards the doorway. "This is Agent Scully."The CSI team gave a silent nodding of heads for a salutation, but Nick and Scully seemed to share a longer moment of eye contact. Mulder observed this but kept on listening to his partner as she relayed data.
"There also was DNA found underneath the fingertips of the victim-not hers. But there was no blood. A toxicology test is being run through your lab by Dr. Robbins to find out if she was poisoned."
"Meanwhile, the gun was found by the right foot of the body. An open box of 9 mm bullets was found on the desk. I'm running those through ballistics; I should have those results by mid-morning," Sarah announced.
"And something rather disturbed me about that through my preliminary walkthrough. We already have circumstantial evidence that this was a murder and not a suicide. But how about some hardcore physics?" Grissom got out of his seat from the head of the table and began to slowly circle the group.
"Such as?" Catherine questioned him. Warrick finished his snack and sneaked out while Grissom ensnared everyone else's focus.
"Well, the gun was found about one or two millimeters away from the right foot's pinky toe. Nick, can I see your gun for a second?" Grissom's arm reached across the table, and Nick relinquished his weapon. "I know that this isn't the exact same weapon, sorry, but it should give us the general idea to fill in the cracks of my theory. If I just pointed this to my right temple and shot myself, the body would go limp right away, yes?" He unloaded the clip from the gun and physically acted out his last question.
"Agreed," Scully nodded.
"The gun would not likely have fallen down to the right side of the right foot. It would have traveled diagonally to the big toe of the left foot. In other words, the right side of the left foot, if that makes any sense to anyone. Watch my hand as I drop Nick's gun." Grissom let the gun fall uncontrollably to the ground. It spun around a couple of times before stopping in the exact place that he said that it would. "Give or take a couple of millimeters," he said and smiled as the team recognized his proven theory. "So, that was just a simple experiment. Sarah, would you and Catherine mind actually acting this out, please? Of course, after you get the results from the bullets. Warrick went to get the photographs. Nick, you have your assignment."
"Did we get any witnesses that we can speak with?" Mulder interjected.
"Detective Brass can help you with that. I'll let you two know how things go when we're finished," Grissom replied. "You're welcome to the pastries if you want." As the CSI team departed, Mulder and Scully sat down together for the first time in a few hours.
"My vast psychic abilities tell me that they've had issues with the local FBI here," Mulder remarked sardonically and grabbed a jelly doughnut.
"Maybe he's just a scientist who likes to do things in a logical manner. You know you don't always operate that way, Mulder," Scully suggested.
"That must impress you," he smirked. "Must be nice to find someone of your own ilk."
"He's not my type, if that's what you're insinuating." Scully opened the file that she had been carrying and took out the photos of the body.
"I'm not. Someone else actually seemed to catch your eye. He motioned to the pictures. "May I see those, please?"
She kept them away for a moment. "Not with those sticky fingers." Mulder looked down at his own hands and wiped them off with a napkin. She surrendered the photos over to him and arose. "What did you mean by 'someone else actually seemed to catch my eye'?"
"Oh, nothing. Probably just my imagination."
"I'm going to go find this Detective Brass character."
Las Vegas Forensics DNA Division
7:10 a.m.
"Greg? Oh, Greg? Hey!" Nick Stokes shouted at the young chemist until he turned around.
"Oh, it's you," Greg Sanders responded and removed his headphones. "Best of Manson's hits CD. Sorry. How did I keep you waiting there?"
"Long enough," Stokes sighed and crossed his arms. "Did you get those results from the DNA found underneath the victim's fingernails?"
"Yes..." Sanders' eyes traced over the printout. "But you didn't order them. Why are you asking?"
"Greg..." Stokes became impatient. "I'm just on my way to Grissom's office, okay? He asked me to pick them up for him as a favor."
"Excuse me, do you know where I could find Detective Brass?" Scully poked her head in the open door and interrupted them.
"Homicide office. Next building to the left." Stokes motioned with his hand. She showed her appreciation with a slight nod and a smile. On her way out, he couldn't help but watch her.
"Now it's my turn to bring you back to reality," Greg beamed with pleasure. "But she looks like she's way out of your league."
"Hmm?" he murmured while still captivated.
"Who is she?"
"Oh, uh...an FBI agent from Washington."
"Not a chance, man. Not a chance." Sanders handed the paper to Stokes.
"I hope you're talking about the DNA results," Nick eyed Greg.
"It's been a while for me, too, man...but-I think she's off limits."
"You just barely met her. How the hell would you know?" Nick stepped outside of the laboratory.
"Hmm...first impression. She's hot, though. Okay, okay, sorry," he held up his hands in surrender after Stokes gave him an ugly grimace. "DNA test of the skin cells came back negative for anyone in our database. Sorry to inform you of this, or rather, Grissom."
"What about the semen found at the scene? Did you run that as well?"
"Yes. Let me get the readout." Greg disappeared from sight for a few seconds and nodded. "The results match, however..."
"Unidentified so far as we know it," Stokes sighed disappointedly. "All right. Thanks, Greg."
"Hey, what're you doing on Friday night?"
"Probably working, why?"
"I got tickets to go see Marilyn Manson. Wanna go?"
"Raincheck. Sorry."
"Dude, you don't give a raincheck to a Manson concert."
"Find yourself a date, Greg."
