Blood Music
This is a little longer. Hope you like it. All mistakes are mine and there's probably a few. I edited this in a rush. Let me know what you think; good or bad. I'll try not to cry.
Disclaimer: Don't own them, wish I did.
CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*
Chapter Two - Nada, (nothing)
Running late, the CBI consultant pulled up to the scene in his vintage blue Citroen and parked behind the SUV. Driving a thirty-year-old car made him something of an anomaly, but hey, his whole life was an anomaly.
He took a deep appreciative breath of morning air as he casually strode toward the taped off crime-scene and greeted his team members cheerfully. Not that there was anything cheerful about murder, but it was business as usual. It's why he had this job.
"So, what's up, Lisbon?" he called out to the senior-agent-in-charge who was also his boss and, to hear her describe it, his keeper.
"Looks like another one. If I'm right about it being part of the dance club murders. This would be the fifth."
Squinting his eyes against the shaft of sunlight that slanted through the trees bordering the field, Jane looked down at the corpse.
As before, there didn't seem to be an obvious cause of death. The medical examiner was still trying to pin down the C.O.D. for the other four and was taking his time with exhaustive tox screening which had, so far, yielded nothing.
Jane crouched down gracefully, balancing himself with his fingertips as he studied the dead man's peaceful face. This guy looked like the others: blond, good looking, well-dressed. Jane had . . . probably by the third victim; come to the unsettling conclusion that the dead men and he himself had physical appearance in common. Not that he'd considered himself good looking, well, OK, he did; but it wasn't entirely ego. It served its purpose and he wasn't complaining. Still, it was kind of eerie to so closely resemble the dead guys. A minute chill made the hair on his arms stand up as he calmly gazed at the man lying on his back.
There was nothing here either. No peripheral clues. No mysterious objects or forgotten items that could tie the corpse to the killer. No 'ahah' moments the TV crime shows are so fond of. Nada.
He leaned closer and sniffed carefully. He caught the scent of expensive cologne and something else, some sort of chemical smell. It wasn't something familiar and he couldn't place it.
He spend more time carefully observing details. The buttons of this man's shirt were undone nearly to his waist as though he was in the process of removing it or someone was removing it for him when he met his untimely end.
"Anything?" asked Cho, the taciturn agent who rarely spoke more than two words in a row, this being no exception.
"Um" Jane said and continued his exam. Finally, he dusted off his hands as he stood and walked toward the attractive, dark-haired woman with the badge clipped to her belt and gun on her hip.
They were just out of hearing range but she was busy speaking to an older man wearing a beat-up baseball cap. His skin darkly tanned. He was looking at her earnestly, his hands augmenting his speech in a non-verbal explanation as they cut the air with purposeful gestures.
"I don't know how, whoever it was, managed to get that poor guy all the way out into the middle of this field without anyone spotting him. Heck, that's not more than fifty yards from the road."
"So, you don't recall anything unusual last night, any sounds or something that was out of the ordinary?"
"No, ma'am. The dogs barked a few times around ten or so, but I thought it was just another possum or maybe a raccoon. They drive the dogs nuts. There's a lot of critters creep around here at night. Sometimes, some of the local kids like to come out and drink beer and smoke dope or whatever, but they don't cause any trouble. The local cops come and check up on them every once-in-awhile but there's never been any trouble I know of."
"Well, thank you for your help, Mr. Vega. We'll be here for a few more hours yet. We'll contact you if we have any further questions."
"Yes, ma'am. Just call me on my cell phone if you need me for anything else. I'll be out somewhere on the place. There's always something that needs tending; it never ends."
The leathery brown man tipped his baseball cap at the small group and took his leave, walking toward an ATV parked a few yards away in the tall clover grass.
"I thought they all drove tractors." said Jane as he watched the man walk toward his vehicle.
Lisbon didn't bother to reply to his comment and turned toward him questioningly. "Find anything we should know about?"
"Not a thing. Whoever the killer is, he or she is good at what they do.
"I was afraid you'd say something like that."
"Well, I can't be amazingly perceptive all the time. Even I have my off days."
"Your 'off days' have turned into an 'off week', but no one seems to have done any better. The M.E. still hasn't come up with the cause of death for the other four and it looks like this is going to continue until someone can come up with a fucking clue."
"Well, there was an odd chemical smell that I can't quite place."
"Like what?"
"Don't know, haven't ever come across it before. Smells kind of like . . . " Jane furrowed his brow and stood with arm flexed in front of him and his hand in characteristic gesture as he tried to come up with a description of the scent, "bananas mixed with alcohol or some sort of solvent."
"Alcohol? You mean like booze?"
"No, rubbing alcohol."
"Hmm" was all Lisbon could say. It was going to be another long, unproductive day.
Jane's notice of the strange scent was the only information to be gleaned from the scene. Since said information wasn't anything tangible at the moment, at least until Jane could pin it down, there was absolutely nothing new . . . other than the body.
The ground was too dry and grassy to maintain a definitive footprint. The body had no I.D. on it, no jewelry or anything else that could point to the victim's identity. They'd probably have to wait until someone came looking for him. Someone worried and distraught searching for a loved one and, ultimately, finding their worst nightmare.
All the photos had been taken from all the angles and the body zipped into the blue plastic bag and placed in the coroner's van. The scene had been thoroughly searched. There was nothing left to do but return to the office and try to go over whatever clues, or lack thereof, could be discussed.
The day was sliding its way into the early evening by the time the black S.U.V. pulled into the parking lot. The blue Citroen pulled in a few minutes later.
Jane had driven back by himself. No one was ever foolish enough to be his passenger. "He doesn't actually drive a car.", said a pale Rigsby after his one and only commute with their consultant, "It's more like he aims it."
Jane entered the bullpen a few minutes after the others, noting the lack of energy and the generally dampened atmosphere of the room.
"Hey, we'll come up with something." he said with forced cheerfulness
"When hell freezes over or Oakland wins the pennant", said Cho with his customary lack of verbal or physical animation.
"You all need something to cheer you up. Anyone for a chocolate dipped strawberry?" asked Jane as he produced a white paper box from behind his back and set it on the corner of VanPelt's desk; as he lifted the lid to display its contents.
Rigsby, immediately, went over to grab one of the juicy treats; his eyes alight in anticipation. He thought as he savored the sweetness, Jane's really weird. One minute he's everyone's worst nightmare, the next, he's being nice and almost . . . normal.
VanPelt daintily took one of the berries from the box and smiled her thanks at their grinning consultant. He can be so nice sometimes, she thought, when he's not being a dick.
Even Cho stood up and walked over to take one of the chocolate coated berries and walked back to his desk to enjoy it. Jane could be OK sometimes, he thought, when he manages to control himself.
Jane produced a paper napkin and plucked out the largest berry left in the box and walked toward Lisbon's glass enclosed office. He knocked before entering; she'd gotten on his case for the hundredth time about just barging in; he was making an effort.
She looked up from her computer, her dark brows forming the question before actually voicing it. When he placed the treasure on her desk, she actually smiled. He could be so sweet, when he wasn't stirring shit.
He stood in front of her desk looking, she thought, like a puppy that had brought its master a ball and was expecting to be told that he was a 'good boy'.
Nah, Lisbon changed her unvoiced thought, more like a feral cat with deceptively silky fur that made you want to pet it but, if you got close enough, it would bite.
"What's this for?"
"Well, for you, of course, but I brought some for all of us. Everyone seemed so down about not having a lead on the 'Club Killer' as the newspapers so christened him or her, I thought a treat might help."
"You really think it could be a female?" said Lisbon as she bit a tiny piece of the strawberry and let the chocolate melt across her tongue.
"Not very likely. First of all it would have to be a really strong woman; like maybe Kendra in the evidence room. I've seen her lift a fifty pound bronze statue without even so much as a grunt. It wound up as evidence because it was used to drop on some poor guy. I know she could make minced-meat out of me and maybe even Rigsby if she took the notion."
"Well, don't piss her off. Just in case."
"She's actually kind of scary."
"Don't worry, Jane." she laughed, "I'll protect you."
"You always do, Lisbon." he said with uncharacteristic tenderness.
"So", she said, changing the subject, "It has to be a guy, right?"
"I think that while the murders may point toward the typical "woman's crime", intimate contact and subsequent death, possibly by poison, I think it's a male. Since all of these guys disappeared from nightclubs, specifically gay nightclubs, it's probably a safe bet."
"Uh, I've been meaning to talk to you about a plan to catch this guy." said Lisbon, a little hesitantly.
"A plan? How wonderful. Something devious, I hope. Perhaps you've been spending too much time with me. Maybe my ways are rubbing off on you."
"Don't get too excited. Wait 'till you hear what it is."
Jane looked at her expectantly, a smile creasing his face.
"Have you noticed that the victims all seem to resemble each other?"
He nodded in assent, waiting for her to explain what would most likely be the predictable scheme.
"Have you noticed that they all sort of resemble you?"
"Yeah, that's a little disturbing. Are you saying that you want me to go undercover? That could be fun."
"That's what I'm getting to. You seem to be a very 'secure' man." she said carefully, "Would you have any problem posing as a patron of a gay nightclub?"
"Well, first of all, thank you for noticing my heterosexual vibe, but no, I wouldn't have a problem. Aren't I a little old for this?"
"When you actually get some rest, you look pretty good for an old guy. With the right wardrobe, I think you could pull it off. The age range for the victims seems to be anywhere from late twenties to late thirties."
"Does this mean that I get to go clothes shopping on C.B.I.'s dime? I don't think I have the proper wardrobe for this adventure."
"Yeah, I guess, but don't get carried away. You know the state is pinching every mortgaged penny right now."
Jane just smiled innocently and was already making plans in his head about which shops he would be visiting to find the right 'disguise' for his undercover assignment. He'd have to check in with Barry first. He's the guy at the flower shop on the corner a block from his apartment. Barry would probalby be glad to give him suggestions on the appropriate attire for clubs. He was always nicely dressed and made no attempt to be anyone other than who he was. Jane still wasn't quite sure how to react when Barry's pupils dilated as they'd conversed the times he'd stopped in to make a purchase.
"Ask the others to come in here, we may as well start making plans. There doesn't seem to be anything else that's going to help catch this guy."
Jane opened the glass-paned door and whistled loudly for the others to look up from their assorted tasks and beckoned them with a gesture to Lisbon's office.
They filed in with questioning looks on their faces, well, at least Rigsby and Vanpelt's faces. Cho's face, as usual, gave nothing away. They found their seats in the chairs across room her desk as Jane plopped himself on the cream colored couch and lay back with his fingers laced behind his head.
"Jane would you please sit up for this meeting?" asked/ordered Lisbon in her 'official' voice.
"Yes, mother." replied Jane as he came to an upright position and swung his legs to the floor. What difference did it make if he sat up or not?
"We're going to have to put ourselves out there to catch this guy." she began "Some of you may or may not be entirely comfortable with the plan I'm about to lay out for you and, if you can't go along with it, you need to tell me now so that I can make other arrangements." Her gaze seemed to be directed toward Rigsby and Cho.
"Jane has agreed to go undercover as bait in one of the clubs."
"Bait" said Jane under his breath as if realizing for the first time that there may be actual danger in what he'd agreed to. Everyone knew that their consultant veered wildly between not giving a damn if he wound up getting killed or was absolutely terrified that he might.
Rigsby's eyebrows shot up and he looked toward Cho to see if the taciturn agent had a reaction to the plot but, of course, there wasn't even a flicker on his smooth Asian face.
Jane had always thought Cho was the epitome of the cliched, and possibly even derogatory term 'inscrutable' when it applied to Asians. Cho's calm, expressionless demeanor worked well in interrogations. The agent was as tough and dry as last week's bagels and could be intimidating if you were on the other side of the table.
"What needs to happen is Jane going undercover in a gay bar. That seems to be the kind of place from which, at least, four of the victims disappeared. Except for the last one, who hasn't yet been identified, they were all last seen at various clubs here in the city and in outlying suburbs."
Rigsby's eyes got rounder and VanPelt did her best to suppress a smile at his reaction. Jane just sat nonchalantly on the couch as he watched the others.
"As you may have noticed, the victims all resembled one another and they all somewhat resembled Jane. Blond, attractive . . . "
"Lisbon, you think I'm attractive? interrupted Jane, his smile growing wider and looking like he was having fun trying to make her blush.
She only shot him a look and kept on going but her pale complexion did seem to acquire a little more color.
"Yeah, I could see the physical similarity between the vics and Jane" volunteered VanPelt. "The murderer seems to have a 'type'."
"Creepy" said Cho
"Well, we'll have to keep a close watch on our bait. As you know, he isn't exactly trained in self-defense techniques."
At that statement, both Cho and Rigsby let out amused huffs.
"Hey!" said Jane with, possibly, feigned hurt.
"Anyway" continued Lisbon in a louder voice as she gave the three men withering looks, "Someone is going to have to go into the bar with him as his partner to make sure he stays safe."
"Do you mean partner, as in boyfriend?" asked Rigsby with a knot of dread in his stomach.
"Yes, you have a problem with that?" asked Lisbon with a stony look.
Umm, no . . . no way . . . I mean, I don't have a problem with it.
Working with Jane could be entertaining or annoying depending on what mood the blond man was in and how obstreperous he wanted to be. Though he was so very good at disguising it, everyone knew Jane wasn't the most stable person but, he was brilliant and they cut him a lot of slack because he closed cases . . . and he'd become a friend.
"OK, Cho you're going to be assigned to go in with Jane this time; and" she looked pointedly at Rigsby, "if it becomes necessary to go back a second night, you will be going with him."
Rigsby just nodded and looked a little queasy. Young men were sometimes too sensitive about proving and defending their masculinity and the tall agent hadn't enough years under his belt to know that, ultimately, one's deeds were what mattered, not their orientation.
They worked out the detail of the operation. Jane and Cho would go together as a couple. Jane was to make himself as visible as possible, within a reasonable context, and they would hopefully draw out the suspect.
Lisbon wished they knew what had killed the victims. If they knew, they could take specific precautions to guard against it. She was worried a little about Jane. For all of his brilliance, the man sometimes had the sense of a doorknob when it came to personal safety. He'd come far too close to the edge of his own doom on previous occasions and couldn't be trusted to know when to keep out of the way.
Alright, we're done for the night. Everyone go home and get some sleep. We're going to be working late tomorrow night so make sure you modify any plans you've already made. Sorry about the short notice."
They filed back into the bullpen with Jane being the exception. He'd resumed his position on Lisbon's couch and was content to watch her work on the pile of paperwork before her.
"So, you think I'm attractive? We never got around to an answer."
"Jane." she said sarcastically, "You damned well know that everyone is mesmerized by your beauty, so stop fishing for compliments and just shut-up."
"I'm mesmerizing then?"
"Yeah, whatever! Don't you have some shopping to do?"
"I guess it would be a good time to go pick out my ensemble. Wanna go with me? We could make it a whole mall experience. The food court has some interesting cuisine."
"No, thanks anyway. Malls make my skin crawl."
"Oh, Lisbon . . . so butch in attitude, so feminine in aspect."
He rose quickly and ducked before the stapler bounced off the doorframe as he scooted out of her office. The others barely looked up.