Chapter Eleven
"What've you got, Duck?" Gibbs asks before he's two steps in the door. Ducky and his assistant both look up sharply.
"Goodness, Jethro, I didn't realize that you were bringing a whole party," He hands the assistant a tool, and crosses to the light box. Flipping several switches, the box lights up section by section. Various areas of the body appear, bones fluorescing white against the black film.
"Tell me, what do you see?" Ducky asks, stepping aside so we can all see the x-rays. He takes a moment to remove his face shield. We all take turns looking at the images. Gibbs squints carefully, but Tony is the first to speak.
"He's had several broken bones."
"Quite right, Anthony… see here," he indicates a clavicle, "and here," indicating two fingers, "He's also had his mandible and maxilla broken. I'd wager there was also a broken nose in this same incident. These are fairly new… I'd say between six and eight weeks old." Going back to the body, he motions us over.
When we're gathered around, Ducky retrieves a pair of forceps from a tray and uses them to gently pry Darryl Winters burned upper lip away from his teeth.
"Look at his left front tooth." We bend close, Tony and I nearly bashing cheeks. I indicate that he should go ahead. McGee looks up.
"It's a different color."
"Yes, why?" Ducky asks excitedly. McGee looks confused as hell for a second before some piece of info clicks in his head.
"It's fake." Nodding vigorously, Ducky grins.
"I would say it was inserted to replace a tooth lost when the mandible and maxilla were fractured."
"How would someone break those bones?" Gibbs asks, stepping around the table and examining the body more closely.
"In my medical opinion, I would say his head was introduced to a hard surface, quite forcefully."
"Like how?" Gibbs quirks a brow at Ducky from over Darryl's nose.
"Mr. Palmer, may I borrow you for a moment?" The assistant removes his own faceplate and steps towards Ducky.
"Of course, Dr. Mallard." Ducky turns him so he's facing away from the doctor. Before Ducky can reach for Palmer, Gibbs stops him.
"I think I get it, Duck," he crosses to where Ducky and Palmer are standing. Tony starts grinning and McGee looks apprehensive. I have a bad feeling.
I can tell Palmer and I are having the same thought when Gibbs asks, "May I?" The terrified look on the ME assistant's face makes me cringe.
With a small, but wicked, grin, Ducky steps back, "Absolutely."
Palmer either has the good grace to try to trust Gibbs, or he's frozen in terror. From the look on his face, I'd say it's the latter. Without warning, Gibbs strikes. Forcing Palmer to his knees, I see the poor boy's eyes widen in shock as his glasses tumble off his face. The glasses come to a stop at my feet, but I can't tear my eyes away from the demonstration to retrieve them.
In a flash, Ducky's assistant is face down on the floor, and Gibbs is straddling his back while maintaining a firm grasp on the back of his head. Shoving Palmer's face towards the floor, Gibbs elicits a squeak of alarm from the younger man. Bare inches from the ground, Gibbs pulls the assistant's head back to keep him from violently eating autopsy tile.
"Is that about right?" Gibbs gets up faster than I would have expected and looks up at Ducky.
"That would be my medical opinion, yes." Ducky can't keep a chuckle from his voice, "Come, come, Mr. Palmer!" He offers his assistant a hand up. I bend down and pick up his lost glasses. Palmer leans heavily against the autopsy table, looking very shaken. Gibbs claps him on the shoulder.
"Good job, Jimmy."
He, Tony, and McGee start for the door. Gibbs pauses and turns to catch my eye. I wave them on, hearing him start, "Tony, talk to the medical center at Quantico…" The rest of his words are lost as they board the elevator without me.
I turn back to the assistant, handing him his glasses. He fumbles for them, and I smile as he places them on his face.
"Hi… oh, hi!" he exclaims, getting a good look at me, "Things aren't always like this." He says.
"I wouldn't worry about it. Gibbs obviously likes you." I reassure him.
"You think?" He seems to doubt me.
"Absolutely. If he didn't like you, he'd have let you bounce your face off the floor," I smile.
"I suppose. By the way, I'm Jimmy Palmer… I'm Dr. Mallard's assistant."
"Jimmy, Cam Hall," I offer my hand, and he strips off a glove to shake it, "I'm Gibbs' temp." He nods.
"How long are you here?"
"Until Officer David decides to return," I shrug.
"Well, it's nice to meet you… I'm sorry you had to witness that," he indicates the demonstration.
"Are you ok?" I ask.
"What? Oh, yeah… I'm fine," he says.
"Does Gibbs do that often?" I ask.
"No, usually he prefers to use Agent DiNozzo for his example. I'm usually Dr. Mallard's guinea pig."
"I apologize for that, Jimmy," Ducky speaks from the other side of the table, "being the guinea pig has never bothered you in the past." I see a good-natured glint in his eye.
"That's because you don't scare me. Not really…" He looks to the door through which the rest of the team left. Looking back at us he shakes his head.
"… But Agent Gibbs scares the hell out of me."