TILL DEATH DO US PART

Chapter 4

"My great aunt Hermione met a similar fate," Dr. Donald 'Ducky' Mallard reflected, as he worked his way methodically around the autopsy table and the body of the late Lt. Commander Eric Purcell. "Hm…yes… it was during the annual shoot on their estate in Perthshire that her husband Angus allegedly mistook her for a grouse and shot her at point blank range. It was tragic really." He shook his head at the memory. "It later transpired that Angus had caught Hermione and the head gamekeeper flagrante dilecto and… "

"Um, boss!"

Both men turned as one to see Tim McGee hovering in the doorway of autopsy. Ducky was at first more than a little peeved to have another one of his anecdotes interrupted, particularly when for the first time in - he couldn't remember how long exactly - Leroy Jethro Gibbs had actually seemed to be listening attentively. But the nervous energy radiating off of McGee like some sort of beacon, negated any minor quibbles the elderly doctor may have had.

Gibbs had cocooned himself down here with Ducky to hide out from Director Jenny Shepard, who had been trying to drag his ass into a mind-numbingly boring budget meeting for the best part of a week. Fate had intervened several times with urgent cases, but he knew that unless something world-threatening came along…and soon…he was on borrowed time. Still, Gibbs could see no harm in delaying the inevitable for a while longer.

"This had better be damned important," he growled at his young agent, who paled visibly.

If Jenn had sent McGee down here to retrieve his recalcitrant boss there would be hell to pay.

"There's something you need to see," McGee responded simply. And he straightened and met his bosses accusing glare head on. "It concerns Tony," was all the explanation required. He turned on his heels and headed down the stark white corridor to Ducky's office, not needing to check to know that both men were right behind. Once there McGee switched on the small portable TV to a local news station and then stood off to one side.

"…there were no witnesses to this brutal murder," the rather blandly attractive female news reporter advised, "but sources within the Police Department have revealed that they are keen to locate and question a yet to be named boyfriend of model Megan O'Neal…. More to follow on this tragic story as it becomes available. In other news…"

"And this concerns DiNozzo…how?" Gibbs asked impatiently grabbing the remote and muting the volume, the relevance or connection not immediately obvious to him.

"Um, she's the same Megan O'Neal that Tony's been dating," McGee explained, not entirely comfortable with the fact that he had to be the bearer of this news - but he'd loss the toss with Ziva. "So there's a good chance he's the prime suspect."

"Shit!"

"Crudely put, but quite apt under the circumstances," Ducky added, looking every bit as concerned as the other two men. "It seems to me Jethro, that we need to find our Tony before the local constabulary do."

"Ya think, Duck?" Gibbs retaliated sharply, immediately regretting the harshness of his tone. But Ducky was not unduly offended; he knew that Gibbs considered it his duty to oversee the safety and well-being of his team, so when one of them was hurt or in trouble he always took it personally.

A split second passed before Gibbs started barking out orders to his subordinate.

"McGee…."

"I've put out a BOLO on Tony's car," the young man cut in efficiently, " Abby's trying to track him via his cell's GPS signal, and Ziva's on the phone right now to the local LEO's to see if we can get …"

All further conversation was halted as the phone on the desk began to trill. With a quick nod of approval from Ducky, Gibbs grabbed the receiver and listened intently. By the time he hung up his expression had darkened further, and without preamble he turned on his heels and headed at a rapid pace back into the corridor and towards the elevator with McGee and Ducky on his heels, rushing to catch up.

"Cancel that BOLO," he instructed as he jabbed at the call button for the elevator again and again. From where he was standing McGee could see a muscle twitching in his boss's jaw, as the man fought to control his emotions. "The car's been located at the scene of Megan O'Neal's murder. No sign of Tony."

"Oh dear." Ducky's simple declaration seemed to sum it up perfectly.

Lieutenant Jake Liddell glanced around the crime scene, his gaze fixing on the spot - now outlined starkly in chalk - where Megan O'Neal's body had lain. A large pool of blood spreading out from the head like some gory halo.

In his nearly seventeen years of law enforcement he had attended more homicide scenes than he could remember; had witnessed many times over the horrifying confirmation of what one human being was capable of inflicting on another. But that didn't mean he was somehow hardened to it all; it didn't lessen the outrage or dull the repulsion he still felt at the senseless waste of a life. And the tragedy of this one in particular, was that it had the hallmark of a lover's quarrel spiraling out of control.

"Sir, the Navy cops are here," advised one of the uniforms; a young just-out-of-the-academy and eager to please type by the looks of him.

Liddell smiled grimly He'd wondered how long it would take NCIS to come barging in here to protect one of their own.

No sooner had he given his reluctant assent to their entry, a tall lean gray-haired man was stalking towards him followed by two of his agents; an attractive dark-haired female with a 'don't fuck with us' look in her eyes and a young man who reminded Liddell of a bank clerk, even wearing his NCIS uniform baseball cap and jacket.

Tall and gray produced his badge for Liddell's inspection, and then the two veterans eyed each other carefully.

"What have you got for us, Lieutenant?" Gibbs got straight to the point.

While Liddell was a little taken aback by the man's terse delivery, he couldn't fault him for wanting the facts, particularly as they directly concerned one of his agents.

Liddell indicated the immediate area within the crime scene tape, where the Metropolitan Police Department's CSI team was meticulously sweeping the scene.

"Body was discovered at 06.00 by a janitor. Exact ToD has still to be officially confirmed, but our coroner puts it between 23.00 and midnight." Liddell had his notepad to hand, but barely needed to consult it as the hard facts were committed to memory. "The young punk on gate duty last night vaguely remembers your agent arriving, mostly because of his car." All of them stared across at Tony's abandoned mustang, and the two CSI's who were presently going over every square inch of it. "But he can't say for sure if the vic…uh…Miss O'Neal was in the car with him, or not."

He rubbed a hand across too tired eyes. Liddell had been just one tantalizing hour away from the end of a long night shift when the call for this one had come in. "A recently fired Sig Sauer was found beside the body, along with Agent DiNozzo's ID, which we've bagged and tagged."

Ziva snorted dismissively. "That doesn't mean Tony did it."

"Doesn't mean he didn't either," the detective countered not unkindly.

"And he would leave his gun, ID and car behind…because?" the young Israeli spat incredulously.

"Officer David!" Gibbs' stern tone silenced her immediately, though Liddell could tell by the expression on the woman's face that she wasn't happy at all. But he could sympathize with her to a point; if it were one of his team he'd be feeling exactly the same.

"CCTV?" Gibbs indicated the security cameras set high up on the walls at two different positions, which in theory should mean that they effectively covered this entire sub level.

The lieutenant nodded. "Yeah. Tapes have already been confiscated and sent back to headquarters."

"I'd like to get a look at them," Gibbs continued. "I'd also like my team to go over the crime scene."

"Sure," Liddell responded, though he intended to make it crystal clear from the get go that this was his investigation. "Once we're finished here it's all yours."

"What about the body?" McGee asked.

"With the coroner's office." And anticipating the next question Liddell added quickly. "I'll let you have the autopsy report ASAP. But cause of death is almost definitely a single gunshot to the head."

"Uh…Jake…Lieutenant!"

All four turned at the approach of the small red-headed female CSI agent, holding aloft a clear plastic evidence bag containing a folded white cloth.

"We just recovered this from the trash can over there," the woman reported, nodding towards an area just beyond Tony's car. "I can't confirm 100 until we get it back to the lab, but I'm pretty certain it's been doused with Methyl Trichloride. Chloroform," she added with an indulgent smile, in response to the blank look from Liddell. "Could be our killer drugged her before he shot her."

"Now why in hell would Tony do that?" Ziva couldn't help herself. She threw up her hands in exasperation and stormed away from the group, muttering furiously in a mix of Hebrew and English. "This is pigshit,." was just about all they understood.

Liddell whistled softly in open appreciation. "Feisty, isn't she!"

"Tell me about it,." Gibbs responded with something bordering on irony.

Tony knew he was in real trouble as soon as he struggled up through the murky realms of unconsciousness.

It wasn't just that he was lying in an unfamiliar place with his face pressed into a thin mattress, or the damp chill that assailed his exposed flesh. Oh no. What really told him he was up the proverbial shit creek without a paddle, was the young woman in a wedding dress who was watching him from across the small, sparsely furnished room.

TBC