In which we find out what's up with that website ...

Reasonable Cause to Suspect

By EllieV

Chapter Seven

There was an unspoken truism in Carson Beckett's book: all roads led to the mess hall. Eventually, everyone had to eat. He parked himself in a corner near the balcony. Visibly accessible to those who wanted to chat yet far enough away that people could keep to themselves. He had suggested it some time ago as a stratagem to Dr Heightmeyer but she preferred her office; Beckett remained unsurprised at her lack of return customers. People preferred a wee chat with their friendly neighborhood GP it seemed, even if the GP was a multi-trained, leading geneticist and the neighborhood was light years away from Earth. He always got the best out of Rodney McKay over a bite to eat.

It was quiet though it wasn't that late. The atmosphere was hushed. People were waiting on results-DNA results, autopsy results. Autopsies took a long time and the tests took even longer. It wasn't, he explained to more than one person, like a TV show where results happened in 40 minutes. People, he said firmly, would have to wait. There were a lot of bodies-lots of bodies meant lots of autopsies, over a long period of time, and lots of tests. Waiting took a long time, too.

Digging up bodies took an even longer time-longer than he had expected even with his short stint as a police surgeon. With a kindness that Sheppard clearly hadn't expected, Stretton had said softly that they could bring the bodies back without checking anything else if that was what he wanted. The Wraith didn't do this, Sheppard said numbly, and he wanted to know who did. Stretton had considered Sheppard for a moment and said that their job was to speak to Dr McKay-if he was available. He glanced at the clearing then he and Sheppard nodded at each other and Sheppard stepped back to let them get on with their job. In retrospect, the dynamics between them at that moment were fascinating. At the time, Beckett didn't have much time to think.

They documented everything. When the daylight went, spotlights were brought in to continue their work. Photographs were taken. Samples were taken. And carefully, so carefully, so gently, the bodies were put into bags and returned to Atlantis. Beckett had allocated most of his infirmary's resources to the autopsies but in reality, only he and Dr Biro were really qualified to do a proper forensic examination to determine the causes of death.

A slight movement outside on the balcony caught his eye. The lights were off and he squinted to see who it was. He frowned at the figure sitting, back against the wall, legs drawn up to the chest, head down on knees, arms wrapped around legs. He wondered if he should go out there. At the mess door opening, he thought that perhaps he wouldn't.

"Carson," Weir greeted him. "You look tired." At his shaking his head, she said, "Yes, I know, John has previously told me that I have a talent for stating the obvious." She spread her hands out onto the table. "I was looking for the police officers - DI Chatham or Commander Stretton. I didn't want to disturb those in the lab."

No, Beckett thought, the lab's not a good place right now. He pointed out the door.

"Mr Stretton is on the balcony," he said softly.

Weir looked into the darkness at Stretton, who hadn't moved. She bit her lip.

"He looks tired, too," she said.

"He and DI Chatham were present for all the autopsies," Beckett said. "DI Chatham was with me; Mr Stretton was with Dr Biro."

Weir appeared to consider Dr Biro. "Oh," she said, and quietly moved onto the balcony. A sensor light gently lit the area.

"Mr Stretton?" she asked.

Stretton lifted his head and blinked at her. "Dr Weir," he said.

"You look tired," she said. "You should get some sleep."

He nodded but didn't move other than to gesture at the ocean. "I needed some air."

"Carson said you were present at all the autopsies," she ventured, pulling up a seat opposite him.

"Half the autopsies," he corrected. "Katie did the other half." He waited a beat before continuing. "Your Dr Biro is … um … interesting."

"She likes her job," said Weir.

"I gathered," he said, rubbing his eyes.

"I wanted to ask you about this website," she said.

"Ah," he said. "I wondered when you were going to ask about that."

"I've been busy," she said.

"Yes," he agreed. "What do you want to know?"

"Are we in trouble?"

"Define trouble," he said.

"The IOA didn't mention it at the review," she said. "If the site was going to reveal that Atlantis wasn't on Earth, then wouldn't they have done that? How much did the Air Force pass on of the video messages?"

"This is secondhand. I didn't see most of the originals nor most of the edited ones," he said. "Most of your people, I was told, didn't say anything that could compromise the security of the project, I believe a lot of Dr Zelenka's message was deleted. Dr McKay's message was … long. I did see the original of that one. Went for nearly an hour, you know. Dr McKay talks a lot."

"Hearsay?" she asked.

"Nothing to do with my inquiry. Didn't matter," he said.

Beckett, inside listening in, noted the shorthand of his speech.

"How did …?" she asked.

"Started with a blog, I believe. There's a Japanese doctor who has a crush on Dr McKay?"

Weir nodded. "Dr Kusunagi. She's been terribly upset."

"I saw her message. She was wearing an Atlantis patch," Stretton said.

"The Air Force didn't airbrush that out?" Weir was startled.

"Yes," he said. "They did, and some kid good at video and Photoshop cleaned the image right up. It's still blurry but it's readable. Dr Kusunagi's sister started the blog then a website and other people found her, including Lieutenant Ford's cousin who is pretty fiery from the messages I read. She's careful, though. She alludes to a visit from Ford's CO-Colonel Sheppard, I assume-but doesn't give details."

"Are we in trouble? Weir repeated.

"Probably," he said yawning. "Does it matter?"

"It mattered enough for you to mention it," she countered.

"True," he said.

"How does this tie in with Peter's death?" she asked. "You said it had nothing to do with your inquiry."

"It doesn't matter to me," he emphasized. "I'm here for one matter."

"Which means it matters to other people," she said carefully. "Is there going to be scapegoating?"

"Couldn't say," he said noncommittally.

"Couldn't or won't?" she wanted to know.

"I'm a police officer, Dr Weir. While you don't get to my rank without being politically aware, I've tried to stay out of politics. Police politics tend to be different to actual politics, though there's often crossover. This website issue does not matter to me; it matters to people higher up the food chain-actual politics."

"Higher up the food chain," she repeated. "Nosebleed high?"

Sheppard must have told her what Barker said about Stretton's rank, Beckett reasoned.

"Passed out from lack of oxygen high, Dr Weir. An orientation for you," said Stretton. He yawned. "It impacts this inquiry because they," he pointed upwards, "want it to."

"I see," she said. "Thank you-for the warning."

He eyed her for a moment, nodded, and put his head back down on his knees.

Weir hesitated and glanced back at Beckett. He nodded at her.

"Mr Stretton, the rest of this isn't really part of your remit," she said.

He looked up at her again but said nothing.

She clasped her fingers together. "You came here to do some interviews about Dr Grodin and despite you telling Colonel Sheppard that you still needed to speak to Dr McKay, the …" she hesitated again.

"I think 'murders' is the word you're looking for," said Stretton. He voice held no tone.

She swallowed. "Yes. The murders of the Atlantis personnel isn't part of that," she said.

"No, it isn't," he agreed.

"Do you think that Dr McKay murdered Peter?" she moved sideways off the topic. "Rodney could be difficult, bloody-minded and his ego was second to none but …"

He held up a hand forestalling her. "Dr Weir, in the past week and a half we've spoken to most of the people who worked with Dr McKay. We also spoke to previous Atlantis personnel back on Earth. Aside from Dr Kavanaugh, who doesn't like anyone-especially not you-and who has an ego that's bigger than the one ascribed to Dr McKay yet is completely idiotic, most people have conflicting views about Dr McKay. Dr McKay purports not to like people, insults everyone around him, but spends a great deal of time ensuring that the people here are the most important consideration to him. Not anyone else-to him personally. He has a healthy ego in terms of his skills; is well aware of his brainpower and his position as the most important member of the science team; and yet in personal relations he's extremely fragile. He wants people to like him and is afraid they won't. He pushes people away but wants them closer. He's obnoxious but is particularly close to Sheppard, who obviously doesn't suffer fools at all, and he looks upon Atlantis personnel as his substitute family. Did he kill Dr Grodin? I don't know. Could he have killed Dr Grodin? Yes, of course, he could have-most people could kill but wouldn't. Would Dr McKay have killed Dr Grodin? From what I've gleaned of his personality, it wouldn't have even occurred to him and he would be horrified at the suggestion."

Weir's jaw dropped slightly during this recitation. So did Beckett's.

"I still need to speak to him, though," added Stretton.

"He's dead," said Weir. "You stood through the autopsies, all 39 of them."

Oh dear, thought Beckett. The bodies had been mutilated. None were recognizable. No one mentioned …

"Thirty-eight autopsies," Stretton corrected her.

"I'm sorry?" she said puzzled.

"There were 38 bodies, Dr Weir, not 39; we looked, we found 38 bodies."

She stared at him.

"And," he added, "Despite the DNA tests to ID them all not coming back as yet, I'm going to bet that the missing body belongs to Dr McKay."

TBC …

Note:

Again, this story makes the assumption that the video messages were released to the relatives. This chapter was written prior to the airing of McKay and Mrs Miller.

Next: Some chat and then some more chat ...