Hey, it's me...I actually made you a chapter more than 1,000 words! For some reason, this is my first story where I can only write small chaps, but I'll try stoppin. Anyway, oh yeah, I made a typo on last chapter...I wrote in Jennifer Angell, and apparently it's Jessica Angell (I obviously haven't watched much Season 5 yet) so from now on it will be corrected.
Oh yeah, and I don't own CSI:NY...If I did, this story wouldn't be a fanfic!
Enjoy.
The place was quiet. Well, it normally was, but for some reason it was more silent than usual. Perhaps the cold weather had managed to cool tempers and in some small part was helping to keep the room empty. As much as Dr. Sid Hammerback wanted to believe that, he knew it wasn't true. People would always end up here, no matter how cold it was.
It was only when he turned on the lights of the morgue that he realized he was not alone. On his examination table was a bulky black bag that he was all too familiar with. A green folder sat on top, a sick report of the contents inside. Taking off his coat and putting it on the chair near his desk, he walked over and picked up the file. As he read Mac's well-known scrawl, he stored the basics in the back of his mind for when he'd begin the autopsy. "Caucasian female, mid-20's to early 30's, no signs of sexual assault...bullet wounds to the chest, possible BFT." He walked back over to his desk and set the file on the top, open, in case he needed another look later.
Sid reached for latex gloves and carefully put them on. Walking back over to the bag, he slowly began unzipping it until the face of the contents showed. Bruising,he inwardly noted, looking at the face of the young woman whose life had been cut tragically short. Taking the zipper again, he continued until he was at the feet, noting the wounds in the chest that Mac referred to. Just as he had finished unzipping the bag, Sheldon Hawkes walked through the autopsy doors.
"Just in time," Sid said, looking up from the body. "I need a quick hand."
Hawkes looked reluctant, but quickly grabbed a pair of gloves and put them on. "I'm here to get the clothes from the vic, I thought you'd have them."
"I got in a bit later than I'd have liked," Sid stated grimly as he carefully lifted the victim by her shoulders, Hawkes at her feet. "The wife left early and the heater broke. I had to wait for a repairman to come in and get it fixed. With the weather being so awful, can't go a day without it."
Hawkes nodded in understanding as he gently laid the woman back on the table after pulling the bag from underneath. He looked at the body and kicked into work mode. "Her clothes look new, or at the least expensive." The victim looked as though she'd been out for a run, wearing capri-like track pants, running shoes, and a thick winter coat. "That rules out her living in the warehouse." Looking up at Sid, he said "Let's get these off and up to the lab."
While removing the woman's layers of clothing that were necessary to keep her warm while she was still alive, Hawkes could not find any sort of ID. But that was common, as killers often didn't want to give them an in on their victim's lives. After all the clothing was removed and a blood sample had been sent off with another tech for DNA, Sid and Hawkes were able to take a closer look at the killer's toll.
"Two bullets," Sid began, locating them with tweezers and dropping them into a pan with a metallic clink. "Looks like a 9 millimeter," he said, setting the bullets aside. Hawkes placed them into glass containers, and after labeling them, added them to the pile of things he needed to take upstairs. He continued listening as Sid checked over the body. "These bruises to the face," he said, almost puzzled, "are too big to have been caused by a fist and nothing sharp." He split his glasses and hooked them under his neck.
"What could have caused them?"
"I'm not sure," he replied. "If I would have to guess, I'd say something rounded off, like a baseball bat. But shorter," he mused almost as much to himself as to Sheldon.
"What do you suppose this is?" Hawkes asked from his place at the victim's ankles. He was pointing toward a sticky substance that was on the skin.
Sid returned his glasses to their place and walked over to see what Hawkes was talking about. "Looks like some sort of adhesive left on the skin. Best to take it up to trace," he said, going over to his table of tools.
"I'll leave you two alone then," Hawkes stated as he took the bagged up clothes and headed up to the lab.
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It was only about an hour later when Mac Taylor walked into autopsy, talking on his cell. "Okay, get Flack and Angell to head over to the vic's apartment. Make sure they..." he paused as Stella finished his sentence before he could. God, that woman knew him too well. Hanging up the phone, he stepped over to Sid who was just finishing the autopsy on the warehouse victim.
"I take it you've got an ID," Sid said, not looking up from his work. Mac nodded.
"Ann Roth, 32. Flack and Angell are heading over there now," he stated. "Got anymore for me?"
"Well, I took a liver temp which suggests she's been dead for about 52 hours," Sid rattled off.
"Putting time of death at 6:30 Wednesday morning."
Sid nodded and walked toward the victim's head. "My official C.O.D is the bullet wounds caused by a 9 millimeter pistol. One tore right through the aorta. Death would have been instant." He paused for a moment, and then continued. "Although I found traces of chloroform on and around the victim's mouth."
"So she was unconscious when she was shot?" Mac questioned.
"Well, I can't say that, but she was definitely unconscious at some point," Sid replied. "I've also been taking a closer look at the bruising to the face," he went on as Mac joined him in examining. "They were caused peri-mortem."
Mac's face was grim and he didn't like what Sid was saying. "So she was drugged, beaten, and then shot?" It wasn't a question, just a horrible statement of the facts.
Sid sadly nodded and walked over to his desk and the report, scribbled the rest of his findings in it, and took it back to Mac. "Oh, I also figured out what caused the bruising," he said, handing the file over. He didn't say, but instead let Mac read his findings.
Mac's forehead scrunched as he read over the M.E.'s conclusion and wondered if he had made a mistake, but quickly shook that idea. This was Sid, and he was pretty much a genius. He rarely made mistakes, and Mac put a lot of stock on his findings. But this was strange, even to a guy who had seen a lot. Looking up at the M.E, Mac could tell he wasn't making this up.
"She was beaten with a...rolling pin?"
Kinda random, I know, but don't worry...it all makes sense in my head and hopefully I'll put it into words that make sense, too. By the end of the story, you might get it. Anyway, have a good one.
~moviefanatic17
