Chapter 4
The elevator dinged, and Tony stepped out and rounded the corner into the bullpen. Bishop was on the phone, interviewing one of Hartmann's co-workers. Tim was staring intently at his computer screen.
"Oh wow!" he exclaimed.
"Find something juicy, McHacker?" Tony asked, sidling over to Tim's desk and leaning over his shoulder.
"Yeah. I think I know why the DoD wanted to suppress this file," Tim responded, his voice full of concern.
"Do tell," Tony encouraged.
"Well…shouldn't we wait for Gibbs?" Tim asked.
"We've got a serial killer back in circulation, Tim. No time to waste. Go!"
Bishop finished her phone call, and they gathered in front of the plasma. With a few keystrokes, Tim put his findings up on the main screen, and began to walk the two agents through them.
"Ok. Hartmann's unit was assigned to investigate an Iraqi family living in Kuwait, Younadam and Khannah Hamdani, their son, Tazeem, and daughter, Yasmine. The family had money - Younadam had owned a chain of grocery stores in Mosul and Basra, and headquartered in Baghdad. They were suspected of aiding and abetting the Iraqi invasion force, possibly using their wealth to finance the acquisition of guns and ordnance."
Ellie nodded. "A lot of wealthy families used their fortune to buy their family's safety in that war."
Tim continued. "When Hartmann confronted him about the allegations, Younadam denied any involvement. Instead of working to gather more intel, Hartmann just lost it, and ordered his unit to kill the family and torch their home. Apparently Hartmann had a reputation in the area, everyone was afraid of him, so none of the locals spoke up when NIS came in to investigate, in case they'd be next.
"There were reports of a lot of discord among the team members after that - a couple of them came forward with information, but there was no concrete proof, and with no witnesses willing to testify, the investigation didn't go any further. It wasn't long afterwards that the unit was repatriated, and everyone except Hartmann took a discharge.
"NIS decided to look into the allegations against the Hamdani family, and they figured out that Younadam had been telling the truth - they were actually Assyrian Christians, and they weren't sympathetic to the Iraqi invaders. That was why they'd moved to Kuwait, it was more friendly towards their faith. Hartmann must've had friends in high places, because there's no record of any disciplinary action being taken against him.
"Ok. So someone at DoD wants to save Hartmann's ass, not to mention avoiding a full-on NCIS investigation, and seals the file on the case. How does all this help us solve the murders?" Tony puzzled.
"Well, here's where it really gets interesting," Tim answered gleefully. "The son, Tazeem, wasn't there during the attack. He was 18 years old at the time, and was attending George Washington University, right here in DC. He never returned to Kuwait. He settled in Georgetown after finishing his degree, and then moved to Toronto, Canada shortly after 9/11.
Tim pulled up a college photo of a young Iraqi male onto the screen.
"Motive AND opportunity. Nice work!" Tony praised.
"I've been reading up on that symbol that was carved on the backs of the victims, the Chi Rho," Ellie added. "It's an ancient Christian symbol. The killer was sending a message - maybe there's a connection with the family being Christians?"
"What did Tazeem study at college?" Tony asked.
Tim checked the file. "He majored in Business. But he did a minor in Classics and Ancient Greek." Tony cocked his head and made a 'well, there you go' gesture.
Just then, Burke and Gibbs came down the stairs from the conference room. Burke had overheard Bishop's comment about the symbol, and she went ghostly pale.
They brought Gibbs up to speed on the DoD information, and all agreed that Tazeem looked like a strong suspect in the cold case.
"That still doesn't explain Hartmann's murder," Gibbs reasoned.
"Actually, it might," Ellie commented, staring at her screen. She jumped out of her chair and grabbed the clicker, pointing it at the plasma to bring up Tazeem's Canadian driver's licence. "Tazeem is back in the country. He's been living in Toronto for the past 10 years. He crossed the border at Niagara Falls 4 days ago. Customs & Immigration recorded the reason for travel as 'visiting friends'".
"Friends", Tony quipped, making air quotes as the word dripped from his lips.
"Put out a bolo," Gibbs barked. Ellie scampered back to her desk to do so.
"DiNozzo, you and Chaplain Burke go the Mission, find Jefferson, and bring him into protective custody before Tazeem finds him. McGee, Bishop, go talk to Mrs. Hartmann." Tony looked quizzical, glancing from the boss to the Chaplain and back again.
"As I said, Agent Gibbs, it won't be easy to get Eagle to come in, but I'll do my best. He may have renounced violence, but he's still a Marine at heart. He'll see it as cowardice," Burke reasoned.
"Well, Chaplain, I'm sure you can use some of that angelic charm of yours to convince him," Gibbs smiled, and took a last swig of his coffee before tossing the empty cup into the trash. He breezed out towards the elevator - it was time to check on Ducky's autopsy results.
This was to be Ellie's first time speaking with a grieving widow, and she wasn't looking forward to it. At NSA, she hadn't had to deal with people outside her cadre very often. Sitting on the floor, pondering puzzles and living inside her own head, she didn't have to worry about other people's feelings and emotions. It was the one part of the job she wasn't sure she was cut out for. But Ellie Bishop had never shrunk from a challenge, so she gritted her teeth and stepped out of the car outside the sprawling bungalow in a quiet Georgetown neighbourhood.
McGee looked perfectly relaxed as they made their way up the drive.
"How do you do it?" she asked nervously.
"Do what?"
"How do you stay so calm? I mean, this woman has just lost her husband. It's going to be really awkward. She's going to be a basket case."
"You might be surprised," Tim replied. Ellie looked at him quizzically. "I've seen all kinds of different reactions. There's no way to predict what you're going to get. You just have to roll with it."
"Roll with it," she repeated.
"Yeah. You know. Go with the flow. Take your cue from the other person. Generally, it's best to stay neutral. You can express sympathy, but then stick to the questions you came to ask. People generally rise to the occasion." He paused. "And of course, when it's the wife, she's always a suspect."
Wow. That came from left field. Ellie hadn't even considered the possibility that Hartmann's wife could be involved in this situation.
"I thought Tazeem was our prime suspect?"
"Rule Eight, Bishop. Never assume."
"Ok, but what possible motive could she have?"
"That's what we're here to find out," Tim remarked. He rang the doorbell.
"Right." She shook herself, preparing for the worst.
The door opened to reveal an attractive 50-something brunette, in yoga pants and a loose-fitting t-shirt. She wore little makeup, and Ellie noted that she probably didn't really need it, although her face looked tired and drawn. The woman smiled at her.
"You must be the NCIS agents. I've been expecting you."
"Yes. I'm special agent Timothy McGee, this is Probationary Agent Eleanor Bishop." They showed their badges.
"Please, come in." She ushered them into the living room. Tim surveyed the space - not a single thing was out of place. The house almost didn't look lived-in; it reminded him of a hotel. French provincial furnishings, and neutral colour schemes throughout. It made him feel uncomfortable; awkward.
"We're very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Hartmann," Tim began.
"Thank you," she sighed, resignedly. Ellie found this odd - she didn't exactly seem heartbroken over the death of her husband. Glancing around the room, Ellie noted plenty of photographs, of what appeared to be various family gatherings, but not a single one of the Hartmanns together. She glanced sideways at Tim, who had picked up the same vibe.
"Mrs. Hartmann, when did you last see your husband?"
"Around 05:00 on Thursday morning. He got up early to play nine holes at the club, and was heading in to work after that."
"Did he say who he was going to play with?"
"No, but that wasn't unusual. Bill and I never kept tabs on each other."
There was something in her voice that caused a chill to slide down Ellie's back. She hoped and prayed that she and Jake never got to the point of not caring where the other one was going to be.
"He liked to play by himself - that's why he went early in the morning. He never did play well with others…" she added.
"Did your husband still have his KA-BAR combat knife?
"Yes," she replied warily.
"Do you know where it is?"
"Yes, it's over there in the sideboard." She motioned behind her.
"Do you mind if we take a look at it?" Tim pressed.
"Of course." Juliet Hartmann walked over to the sideboard, and retrieved a wooden box with an intricate carving on the outside. It looked old and weathered, but had been recently polished up. She handed the box to Tim, who took it from her with a gloved hand, opened it, and examined the knife carefully. There was no visible blood on it.
"We'll need to take this back to our lab for testing." He returned the knife to the box and set it down on the sofa next to him. Mrs. Hartmann stiffened.
"I don't understand. You think my husband was killed with his own knife?" she asked incredulously, focusing on Ellie. "How would it have gotten back here, if that were the case?" There was a long pause, as she connected the dots. "You think I killed my husband," she uttered breathlessly.
Ellie glanced at Tim nervously, unsure how to respond. She had to fight to keep her jaw from dropping as Tim responded matter-of-factly,
"There were three previous murders, Mrs. Hartmann. We need to rule out this knife in those other cases." He bypassed her statement completely, focusing instead on the cold case; Ellie cringed inwardly, but she secretly had to admire the tactic.
"I see. And what would be my motive for killing Bill's team, pray tell?" Juliet leaned back and crossed her arms, staring defiantly at Tim.
"I have no idea, Mrs. Hartmann. I didn't accuse you of killing anyone. Should I be looking for a motive?"
The line of questioning had produced the desired effect. At this point, Ellie just wanted to crawl across the floor to the door and flee; the tension in the room was palpable. Tim, however, remained unfazed, secretly pleased that his gambit had worked. Mrs. Hartmann uncrossed her arms and legs simultaneously, suddenly aware of the non-verbal cues she was sending. She smiled disaffectedly, and let out a nervous giggle.
"No, of course not. I didn't even know them really. Bill had the highest regard for his team. He respected them. They were all pros, he often said that. He never seemed concerned, but I always worried that whoever killed those boys would come after my husband one day."
"One last question, Mrs. Hartmann. Can you think of anyone who might want to kill your husband? Did he have any enemies?"
She thought for a moment.
"Enemies is such a strong word, Agent McGee. But there was one fellow. Jeffries… Jefferson… something like that. He was added to the unit a bit later than the others, and he never really fit in with the group. Bill said he had trouble with him, he wasn't disciplined like the others. Something happened over in Iraq…something Bill never wanted to talk about. But he once said he wouldn't be surprised if Jefferson 'came after him' because of it. They'd had words over it, a number of times. I guess he didn't like his orders. Bill never seemed worried, so I didn't think anything more of it. He was a Marine, after all; I figured he could take care of himself." She sniffed. "I guess I was wrong."
Making their way back to the car a few minutes later, McGee pulled out his cell phone and called Tony to inform him of Mrs. Hartmann's comment about Jefferson. True, Chaplain Burke was usually a pretty good judge of character. But if there was any possibility that Eagle was the murderer, as opposed to the next potential victim, Tony would need to know.
