-1Disclaimer I own very little, especially not CSI NY, wish I did though…

Notes Thank you for reviews and suggestions for the first chapter, much appreciated! Chapter 2, please let me know what you think of this one. I have the story mapped out, but keep taking a few turnings I didn't intend to. And I probably know more than is good for me about steam locos and model railways.

They left Sid's domain shoulder to shoulder. He watched them go, shrugged slightly and returned to his investigations.

"You know, I'm constantly surprised."

Mac looked with a crooked grin at his partner, "By what, Stella?"

"By the ways people kill other people. It still never fails to surprise me. Take our vic here…" Stella, carefully stepping back to take another photo, gestured to the latest body to fall in New York City.

"I have to admit, this is a new one on me. No one could ever say death was predictable." Mac agreed as he straightened up from the elderly man they were examining. The second crime scene of the day, and as different from the first as flowers were to machines.

They were at the headquarters of the TriBeCa N Gauge Model Railway Club, and their victim was the club's Chairman, Hank Johnson. Death, as far as could be made out from the evidence, had been caused by two scale model Union Pacific locomotives, after the victim had been electrocuted.

The electric current powering the models and the complex signalling system had been set to maximum and the control box apparently rigged. Mr Johnson, fitted with a heart device, had apparently switched on the power, received a high voltage shock then fallen unconscious across the track where the model locomotives had impacted at high speed with the side of his head. The result was a fatal skull fracture.

"Boys and their toys, Mac?" Stella asked. She touched with a gloved hand the elaborate layout of track, stations and figures.

"I can assure you, uh, ma'am, these are anything but toys." A disapproving voice caused them both to spin round. "These models alone are worth nearly two thousand dollars apiece."

Stella stepped forward, discreetly preventing the white haired man in a plaid shirt from coming any closer. "Excuse me, sir, but this is a crime scene, may I ask who you are?"

"Richard Frohlich, vice chairman. I am aware of the situation, I called the police myself. And you are?"

"Detectives Bonasera and Taylor, NYPD Crime Lab. I assume you know the deceased?" As she spoke, Stella manoeuvred the man away from the body, whilst Mac continued to process.

"Obviously I do, young lady. Hank Johnson was our chairman, and one of the most knowledgeable men on the subject of twentieth century Pacific Steam Locomotives. And before you ask, no, I cannot imagine why anyone would want to kill him."

Stella smiled sweetly at him, "Of course not. I imagine as chairman he had a great deal of respect from club members?" There was just the hint of a question in her voice, and Frohlich rose as she had guessed he would. His face flushed a dull red,

"Hank had the respect of not just this club, but the whole N Gauge Model community of Manhattan, let me tell you. He was a gentleman, and he owned the finest collection of model locomotives in the whole state." He glanced back towards the scene with a shudder. "The two, uh, on the track are two of his best."

By this time, Stella had walked him to the door, where Flack stood waiting.

"Flack, this is Mr Frohlich, vice chairman. He found Mr Johnson." She turned to the old man. "Perhaps you could accompany Detective Flack, and answer some questions? It's standard procedure in a situation like this. You could be very helpful. And we'd like to speak to all your club members as soon as possible."

Frohlich nodded, reluctantly, "Very well, yes. Anything that may help." He looked back once more at the body, and sighed, his head lowered towards his chest: "Hank was a good friend, a good man."

Over him, Flack raised his eyebrows at Stella, who shrugged in return.

"Thank you, sir." Flack let the man pass in front of him, then spoke to Stella, "You almost done?"

"Almost. We'll finish up and follow you back."

Flack nodded and left.

Stella returned to Mac, who was lifting a fingerprint off the side of the control box. He held it triumphantly, "Damn near perfect prints. And I have a theory."

"That so? I have one too, if you're interested."

"Always. Is it anything to do with Mr Johnson's large and probably exceptionally valuable collection of model locomotives?"

"I'd certainly be interested to know if any are missing, and how he came by them all."

"So would I." Mac returned. "I want DNA and prints from all the club members. Somebody knows something, I don't think this is a random killing. I'll ask Danny and Hawkes to help us out on this one, as we still have the Jacob's case to work on."

"The dead wait for no one."

He looked at her intently, "Something bothering you, Stella?"

Her face was set in a tight-lipped frown, "I don't know. There was just…" She shook her head, "I was thinking about our first vic, and now this guy. Not a good way to die, things used in the wrong way."

"There aren't many good ways to die, we should know." His voice was gentle at first, then his eyes narrowed, coming to the same conclusion as he thought she had, "Are you thinking there's a link between the two?"

"I don't know, Mac. Only in the thought maybe." She sighed, "Let's get all we can here and keep going."

They worked steadily for another hour pulling fibres, hairs, traces of coal dust and fragments of metal. The interior became oppressive. Both slumped slightly in relief when they realised they had got all they could.

Mac confirmed what Stella was thankful to hear, "I think we're finished here now. Let's have Sid take a closer look at our vic. And we can get talking to the boys with the toys."

………………………………...

Stella drove them back to the lab. En route, Mac's cell rang. After a brief conversation, he closed it with a frown.

"Mac?"

"Take a left here, Stella. We've got another call. DB in Battery Park . It looks like another the same as Lori Jacobs."

"So it goes on." Stella murmured, "I don't like how this is going, Mac."

"Nor do I. If this is a serial…"

"Let's see what we get at the scene."

It was a short journey. They pulled up behind the marked cars beside a bare stretch of grass. Yellow tape sagged between markers, and a small cluster of uniformed officers stood by. What they saw behind the tape made their hearts turn as cold as the knifing wind.

Yes, I'm a bit of a train spotter, my dad's fault (who has driven the Hogwarts Express!) Please let me know what you think, reviews very welcome, and I will try and answer them all. I've also given up sweets and chocolates for Lent, so have a large stockpile going spare!