Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, I'm just playing.

Note: Guys, I'm sorry. You waited for a long, long time and I have no other excuse than being kind of burnt out after publishing "Witch Boy" this April. But today was a really good day for writing and I hope you'll like the new chapter. I'm already working on the next, so please keep sending me messages and reviews. They brighten my day :3

Part 11

It was like watching a train wreck happening, although this time it was the good kind. Sort of, at least; Tony felt pity for the woman, Holly, that had called them. She was friends with a friend of a seamstress at Ye Olde Dress Shoppe and sometimes met with them for private, recreational work. As it turned out, she also worked part-time at the factory that produced the dress labels for the shop.

"I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner," she sobbed. "I never counted them, just took two handfuls for Carrie so we could save the shipping fee. They are sold by weight, you know. My boss allowed it, being in the same part of the city and everything, I swear." Tony handed her a tissue so she could mop up her running mascara. "You can ask him, he's expecting your call."

"We will," Gibbs said and jotted the info down onto his notepad. "Anything else?"

"I remember Norbert taking one of the labels to play with Buster, Janine's kitty. She was our hostess last time."

"Does he come to every meeting?" Tony asked, not bothering to ask for the surname. There was only one Norbert.

"Every other meeting, perhaps", she supplied and wiped the last of her tears away. "He often sat next to me and I liked it because he's s so good with the sewing machine. And he can handle all the fabrics."

"But he never worked for the Dress Shoppe, right?" Gibbs made a note on his pad when she nodded. "Where's the connection? How did he get included in the group?"

"I don't know, he was already there when I joined. He's very quiet, listens mostly."

Tony sidled closer and caught her eye. Holly relaxed a little at his kind expression. "Why did you call us now? What made you think of him?"

She caught her lower lip with her teeth and shrugged helplessly. "Maybe it sounds strange, but something just ... clicked. You know, him missing meetings and then a murder would happen. Or how he would almost smile when he came to the next meeting and saw our dresses, like recalling a private joke. At first I thought I was being paranoid, since there were girls murdered in our kind of dress, but ..."

"It isn't paranoia if someone is really out to get you," Tony finished. "Yeah, I know that feeling."

Gibbs turned away and called McGee. "Tim, tell two of Balboa's team to check Norbert Callahans's background. Friends, colleagues, acquaintances. I want to know everything about his connections!"

McGee's PDA was already out. "On it, boss. You have something for Ziva and I?"

"Yeah," Gibbs said impatiently. "Go and hunt the man down. I want him in interrogation tonight at the latest."

As McGee jogged off, cell phone at his ear, Holly drew a deep breath.

"Please keep my name out of this. If he's innocent ... oh my God, I don't want him to hate me."

"We'll be investigating carefully," Tony promised and stood back up straight. "Just don't tell anyone else yet what you've told us. If he somehow catches wind of this, he might disappear."

Holly agreed whole-heartedly and promised to call if she had more information regarding the case.

"I'll probably call in five minutes," she said, frowning. "I always leave something out. Like thinking of a good comeback five minutes after the insult."

Tony smiled. "You were still a great help," he assured her.

They left and drove back to the yard, only stopping for a tall smoothie order that would tide them over until they found time for lunch. Tony had a suspicion that they would be working all day.

Once inside the building, the director called Gibbs up to his office.

"Sucks to be you," Tony said sympathetically. "Why is he even here?"

"You'll find out," Gibbs replied and crooked his finger. "You're coming with me."

"Aw, crap. Wasn't today that movie park thing with his kids?"

It turned out that today indeed was the movie park thing with his kids, but Vance didn't look particularly murderous. In fact, he looked far too intent for Tony's liking, as if he was expecting huge news.

News like the discovery of life on mars, or something equally ground-breaking.

Tony broke out in a cold sweat.

"What do you want, Leon?" Gibbs asked calmly. He put his smoothie on the conference table and straightened up. "We don't have anything to report yet."

Vance's mouth lifted up in an enigmatic half-smile. "My little birdies told me something different."

"What has Balboa blabbed out now?" Tony asked, exasperated.

"That he got a call from McGee to help him locate a certain Norbert Callahan. I take it that he is our new suspect?"

"We're looking into it. A witness brought him to our attention, but we don't have anything definite yet."

"Connections?"

"Unclear."

Vance put his hands behind his back. "Start from the beginning. The media is clamouring for news and the SecNav wants this solved."

Silence descended, until Gibbs tilted his head at Tony. "Go on, DiNozzo. Your lead, your report."

Vance turned his expectant gaze on him and Tony snapped to attention. "Yes, boss." He set his own drink down. "Until we know more it's all conjecture, but ..."

He explained that, since the official sales channel of the vintage dress maker hadn't yielded any results, he had probed the workers at the label factory for information, in case a colleague had behaved suspiciously.

"Nobody stood out at the factory, but a woman just pointed us to a member of her sewing group. Apparently he's been there for many years. No-one knows much about him. Our witness described him as a quiet, helpful guy. No outstanding features, no marked character traits. He's not there every time, but still a regular."

"He's flying under the radar," Vance mused. "Why does she suspect him?"

"She sometimes brings labels directly to a worker from the Dresse Shoppe to save her friend shipping fees and told us that Norbert sometimes takes one to play with whatever cats the host of the meeting owns. Since the factory gets paid by weight and not by numbers, it would've been easy for him to liberate more than one label at a time without anyone noticing."

"And nobody else played with the cats?"

"Not with labels," Tony replied, grimacing. "I asked. And heard more about lace and stitching that I ever wanted. She also told us that he behaved kind of strangely after a murder was reported in the news. As if it was a joke to him."

Vance thought this over. "It's a good enough lead for me, but without something to back it up, the judge won't be likely to sign a search warrant", he finally said. "But with a bit of friendly pressure he might be persuaded."

"That's your job, Leon," Gibbs reminded him mildly. "We'll wait for McGee's update and get back to you."

"You do that." Vance looked at the smoothie cups. "Don't forget your drinks. I can smell the health from here. It's bad for my cholesterol."

As Tony shut the door on their way out, he snickered. "That was the most underhanded health joke I've ever heard, and I've heard a lot."

"I'd rather hear how Tim and Ziva are doing," Gibbs replied, disgruntled. He took a long drink from his cup. "And have some coffee with this."

Tony took that as his cue to head out for the decent stuff from the coffee shop. When he came back, Gibbs was on the phone, with Vance hovering over his shoulder.

"They got him," he said. "Balboa and Banner are bringing Callahan in. Ziva and McGee stayed back to collect evidence."

"Why evidence? What happened?" Tony put Gibb's cup in front of him.

"You'll love this," Gibbs said and gifted him with a considering look. "They'll be here in thirty, interrogation five."

"I'll join you," Vance said. "Well done, DiNozzo."

"What?" Perplexed, Tony watched him go back up to his office. "What did I do?"

Gibb's twitching mouth formed a wry smile. "You just saved a woman's life." He snapped his phone shut. "C'mon, you earned your second breakfast."

"I thought it was my treat?"

Gibbs strode towards the elevator. "Not anymore."

oOo

An hour and a half later, Tony found himself behind the mirror of the interrogation room. Vance stood next to him, nearly vibrating with gleeful expectation. He felt uncomfortable this close to the man who had sent him away without batting an eye, but not as uncomfortable as Norbert Callahan had to feel, surrounded as he was by three agents.

"You can say nothing, of course," Gibbs said. "You can wait for your lawyer and drag this out." He pulled a couple of photos from the file. Tony had seen them before the interrogation started and shuddered a little. "But that won't change what we found in your apartment."

McGee stepped forward. "You're already charged with the abduction and rape of petty officer Lauren Yates. It's just a matter of time until we have put your DNA through our data bases. I'm willing to bet there'll be a match to the new vintage killings."

"You should talk now while you can still get something out of it," Ziva said. Her lips were pursed and her eyes narrowed; Tony hoped that she wouldn't kill the bastard, even though he deserved it. The way he eyed her lasciviously, he was certainly asking for a kick to the throat.

"It's all a misunderstanding," Callahan said with a smile. "She asked for it."

"Did she also ask to be knocked out before you raped her?" Ziva asked. "Or have her nails done? I found the saw for her finger."

"There was also a dress in the bedroom, just like the ones the other victims wore," McGee pointed out. "It's looking grim for you, Mr. Callahan."

"It's her dress, not mine. Many ladies like them."

Gibbs collected the pictures to deny Callahan the pleasure of seeing his handiwork and asked, "How did you meet Ronald Jameson?"

"I don't know that name."

"Maybe you know the face," Gibbs said. He slid a picture of Jameson over the table. "He was all over the news, I'm sure you've noticed."

"Nope."

"We think you do," McGee insisted. "Your modus operandi is too similar."

"Again, you could drag this out, but in the end we'll find everything out," Gibbs' eyebrow lifted in his dreaded Well?-gesture. "We always do."

Callahan only smirked smugly and crossed his arms.

"What do you think, DiNozzo?" Vance asked quietly. "Your lead turned out to be not only correct, but hot. That man won't go anywhere for the next hundred years."

"I'm not sure," Tony admitted. "McGee and Banner screened him and Jameson thoroughly – again, I might add - but they really don't have any connection we could prove. Callahan doesn't have many acquaintances, not to mention close friends, and those of Jameson's friends we could ask so far didn't recognize his picture."

Vance hummed. "They're sneaky bastards."

"I'm almost tempted to say that this is a Stranger on the Train thing," Tony continued. "You know, where two strangers meet on a train, begin to talk and eventually agree to kill each other's wives. Except that Jameson and Callahan don't have wives ..." Tony trailed off. His mouth dropped open. "But Jameson had a fiancée. Yes, that's how ... Holy fuck. Sorry, I have to-"

He left Vance standing and raced back to his desk, where he had his notes of the case. Frantically, he looked for dates and names, made a couple of phone calls, and nearly reeled when it all came together in a huge, twisted mosaic.

"Fuck," he said again.

End of Part 11