A Seemingly-Perfect Crime
Summary: Mac is puzzled by the lack of evidence and how well this crime was played.
A/N: I tie things in a lot in my stories. The cat is based off of my cat who is a tabby/minx mix.
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: NY, or the 3 Doors Down song "Citizen/Soldier" (in italics).
The knock rang through the house. Mac waited for a few moments before knocking again. Behind him waited Sheldon, looking anxious. Mac turned his head to look at Sheldon, who shrugged. His hand lowered to the doorknob and he gave it a turn. It moved generously under his grasp, freeing the door from the frame. The door swung into the house, banging against a table positioned to the left of the door. Mac rose his brows to Sheldon, who, again, shrugged. "Shall we?" Mac asked.
"Lets." He smiled. Mac strolled in with Sheldon behind him. The stale stench of death wasn't present anymore, and everything looked normal. There was a door that closed off the staircase, which Mac remembered was closed last time he was in the house. He had seen a cat roaming around the downstairs when he came for the body; when he got near it, it backed off and ran down to what he assumed was the basement. Sheldon peered up the staircase. He drew his gun and looked back at Mac, who also took his out.
Mac followed Sheldon up the stairs, where they heard a couple of birds chirping shrilly and a cat meowing softly. Sheldon turned the corner to the sounds of the animals, and stopped in his tracks. Mac, who was at the top of the stairs, pushed past Sheldon and gave a look.
The room was painted a dark, navy blue color with some symbol painted along the walls. Almost every object in the room was either black or white. But sitting in the middle of the room, beside the bed, was Jamie. Mac approached her slowly, gun pointed towards the floor. Her eyes were focused on the wall in front of her; the cat, a strangely marked black, gray, and white cat, was licking furiously at one of her wrists. It looked at Mac, mewed, then walked over and pawed at his shoe. Mac bent down, ran his hand over the cat, then batted it to the side, out of his way. Seeing begging to Mac was useless, it walked to Sheldon and began begging again. Sheldon picked the cat up and cradled it in his arms.
Jamie's eyes shot to Mac, then down at her wrists. They were slashed down from the top of her wrist to about mid-forearm. Deep. The knife was next to her thigh on the floor; it was a pocketknife. She looked back up. And smiled.
"He… he told… didn't he?" She blinked. "Kevin told…"
Mac pulled her hands together, applying pressure on the wounds with one hand and caressing her cheek with the other. Considering the blood, she did this only a few moments ago. "Hold on, we'll get help, Jamie," he assured. He turned to Sheldon, who still held the cat. "Call an ambulance, Sheldon!"
The man nodded; supporting the cat in one arm, he pulled out his phone and dialed. Mac turned his attention back to Jamie. "Hold on, Jamie. Your mother can't loose both of the people she loves… Hold on…"
Jamie leaned into Mac's touch. "I-it's too late, Mac. Too late…" Then she leaned forward and gently pressed her lips to the older man's. When she pulled away and tilted back on the bed, her head fell to the side and laid lifeless. Mac shook her gently.
"Jamie, don't fall asleep. Stay with me." He shook her again. She did nothing. Mac noticed her face slowly loosing color. He brought his fingers up to her neck, searching a pulse. For a moment he held his fingers there. Then, he sighed and let his fingers drop to the floor. His other hand released her wrists.
Sheldon gave a sigh behind him, and the cat meowed. "You did all you could, Mac," he tried.
Mac angrily wiped his hand together. The lifeless body stared up at Mac, who looked from it and stood up, holding his hands out. He looked over at Sheldon. "The bathroom right there?" he asked. "I don't really want this blood on me."
Sheldon looked to his right, at the open door. He nodded. "Yeah, that's a bathroom."
Mac shoved past and went into the bathroom. He used his wrist to turn the water on, then he held his hand under. Once it was hot, he rubbed both together under the flow and cleaned under his nails. He turned the water off and shook it hands, then used some toilet paper to dry them. Sheldon was standing in the doorway when Mac turned back. He held his now clean hands out for the cat. "You can go downstairs and wait for the ambulance. I'll keep the cat."
The cat was passed from Sheldon to Mac, and Sheldon turned and descended the stairs. Mac ran his fingers down the cat's fur. The cat purred, low and rumbling. It snuggled into Mac's arm, who in turn looked down at it and sighed. "Sometimes I wish animals could talk."
The birds across the room had stopped chirping and were looking intently at the body.
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Mac still had the cat as he was walking through the CSI department. Lindsay, who was walking the opposite direction, smiled at him. "Got attached?" she asked. She reached out and petted it. "I've never seen a cat like this before."
"It was at Jamie Martin's home and it would of only gotten in the way of the body. I tried putting it in their basement but it wouldn't allow that."
Lindsay scanned her eyes down the cat; it's tail was only about three inches long and was standing up. "He's a boy, Mac. Looks like a… minx from the tail, but a tabby from the markings. Maybe a mix?"
Mac smiled. "You sure know your cats."
Lindsay returned the smile and walked off. Mac continued to his office where he released the cat. The cat roamed the office for a while. After a while of roaming and inspecting, it jumped in Mac's chair and curled in a ball.
There was a knock at the door; Stella walked in and noticed the cat. "Either you stole it, or there's a better reason there is a cat in your chair."
"Got in the way at Jamie Martin's house."
Stella gave a small frown. "I heard about that. It's horrible." She met his eyes. "Are you okay, Mac?" she asked, sympathetically.
Mac shrugged. "I hate seeing kids in their prime doing that to themselves. Hate hearing about a kid who jumped off a bridge or over-dosed, or cut their wrists." His eyes were passionate. Stella approached him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a friendly hug.
"It's okay, Mac. Don't beat yourself up over this. You didn't make Jamie do this."
Mac slowly accepted the hug, putting one of his arms around her waist. They broke after a hesitation and looked at each other. Stella kissed Mac's cheek, then turned and left. From his chair, the cat meowed.
"I know," Mac answered.
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With a black, oddly shaped bag on his back, Mac walked in the bar dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, sleeves rolled up. He took a seat at the bar, ordered a drink, and put the black bag on the floor between his legs. It was open mic night, and this was something he needed at this moment. The person on stage was finishing up, from what he could tell. The drink was placed in front of him. Mac picked it up and sipped it.
The girl on stage gave a bow; Mac hadn't really listened to her, but applauded anyways. She exited the stage and walked up to the bar, ordering a beer and taking a seat. The young lady flashed Mac a smile. Then she glanced at his bag.
"Guitar or bass?" she asked. Mac looked down for a moment at the bag.
"Bass," he responded.
A hand was held out to him, and he took it. "Carmine."
"Mac."
"Well, Mac, if you're going to play, you ought to get up there. No one is there."
The older man glanced at the stage. "I think I will."
"Will you be singing?"
"Just playing. I don't sing."
"Anyone can sing."
Mac gave a half-felt grin before unzipping the bag. He took it out and laid the bag on the chair he was sitting in previously. Then, Mac walked on stage, taking the stool. For a moment he messed with his bass guitar, then began playing.
While he played through the intro, another man joined him on stage, pulling out a guitar. He nodded at Mac and began playing along. Then, the man began to sing.
"Beyond the boundaries of your city's lights; stand the heroes waiting for your cries. So many times you did not bring this on yourself. When that moment finally comes, I'll be there to help."
Whilst the man sung, Carmine made her way back to stage and joined.
"On that day when you need your brothers and sisters to care, I'll be right here. Citizen soldiers holding the light for the ones that we guide from the dark of despair. Standing on guard for the ones that we sheltered, we'll always be ready because we will always be there.
"When there are people crying in the streets; when they're starving for a meal to eat; when they simply need a place to make their beds, right here underneath my wing, you can rest your head.
"On that day when you need your brothers and sisters to care, I'll be right here! Citizen soldiers holding the light for the ones that we guide from the dark of despair. Standing on guard for the ones that we sheltered, we'll always be ready because we will always be there.
"Hope and pray that you'll never need me, but rest assured I will not let you down. I'll walk beside you but you may not see me; the strongest among you may not wear a crown.
"On that day when you need your brothers and sisters to care, I'll be right here! On that day when you don't have the strength for the burden you bear, I'll be right here! Citizen soldiers holding the light for the ones that we guide from the dark of despair. Standing on guard for the ones that we sheltered, we'll always be ready because we will always be there."
Mac smiled broadly. There was something about playing that just freed him of everything around him. His fingers moved, head bobbed, and mind wandered. At that moment, he could forget about his job and what come with it. At that moment, he was free.
And if there was a time Mac needed to be free the most, it was now.
End