Cigars, Bones, Babies and Jimmy Blackhorse. (Chapter/Phase 12 - parts 20, 21 and 22)
A/N: AU: "they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them - apart from any fictional character created by myself". See Phase One of this story for the whole disclaimer A/N.
A/N: Feel free to PM me if you spot any typos, because my goal is 100% error-free stories (sometimes, forming a chapter over three weeks leads you to become "word-blind" as you re-check your creation). Feedback and comments are also welcome at any time via the website because I see plenty of followers and visitors to this story. On which note - thank you, ad694 for your review on 02/08/2018; "This duo of Rabb/Coulter" - as you call them - will continue their adventures for a while yet. Mike
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Phase Twelve of "Cigars, Bones, Babies and Jimmy Blackhorse" - "Autopsy" and "Birthday" and "Victim 2002/1"
A/N 03-08-2018: The vacation was productive and I sketched out the next couple of chapters and launched Ch 11 with completion of Ch12 not far behind... so now, on with Chapter Twelve. Little Ellie has a birthday and Terri plunges into the darkness, applying her excellent forensic skills as she works on a case which comes close to home with someone from Harm's past, via a minor XO into "NCIS" territory for this chapter and Ch13.
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Chapter 12 - Part 20 - "Autopsy".
Tuesday 25th December 2001 - 11:16hrs EST
The home of Cdr Harmon Rabb and Dr Teresa Coulter-Rabb,
33xx Nebraska Avenue NW, Forest Hills, Washington DC
Harm had been pottering around the house since Terri's unexpected Christmas Day morning summons to work, keeping little Ellie distracted from worrying about her mom's absence on Christmas morning and preparing the Christmas meal. They had previously purchased a pre-cooked turkey, so that he only needed an hour to have all the trimmings ready for a great Coulter-Rabb family Christmas dinner, timed to be served when her father arrived at 12:00hrs. The vegetables were sitting, all prepared, in a set of saucepans on the hob - apart from re-heating the turkey, the longest-time items were Harm's home-made roast potatoes, using his mom Trisha's patented process to deliver crispy roasties.
He checked the seating plan. Thomas Chaddock was due at 1200noon, so the distraction of having Grandpa coming over should also help keep little Ellie from worrying about Mom - well, that was Harm's theory!
His cell-phone chirped into action, sounding out the ringtone which he had programmed for Teresa's cellphone number - the Trisha Yearwood ballad "How do I live?"
"Hey darling, how goes it?"
"Not very well Harm and, darling, I need you to sit down first before I continue". Terri's voice was subdued and it was clear that she was crying. Harm's protective antennae went into full sensitivity mode; this tough Tennessee gal didn't let much get through her professional suit of armour.
Harm's stress and worry levels were rising steadily as he moved to the kitchen chair and sat down. "Terri; what's wrong darling?"
"Oh Harm; there is no easy way to tell you this and I know you've already lost a number of friends...": her voice tailed off.
"Teresa, you are one of the strongest women that it has ever been my pleasure to know (apart from Alison Krennick whom I described to you a while back - and she came with her own unique set of challenges and wasn't a pleasure, but she was tough as nails). Come on darling, please tell hubby Harmon what's wrong - what's happened?"
At his last reply and the mention of Alison Krennick, Terri had started crying again; she slowly regained her composure and Harm waited patiently. She was obviously tense and he could imagine the toecap of her left boot digging into the floor of the burned-out crime scene as her stress took its toll on her footwear. He'd be polishing again tonight!
"Harm, we have opened the first four freezers out of at least ten in this room and so far we have found four women in US Naval uniform, all four of them wearing the rank rings of full commanders; two brunettes and two blondes."
"Well, it could be a sick game of dress-up, played out by some perverted UNSub" he offered as an explanation, picking up her FBI-speak shorthand for 'the bad guy'. "On a practical note, who would know if we have even lost or mislaid four female commanders?"
"Hmm, good question; well, we have called in NCIS urgently, for fingerprint scanning on these first four naval corpses once we thaw out a finger each before we move forward, but if this is true..." her voice tailed off again.
"Teresa, please tell me; what has got you so upset?"
There was a long, deep sigh from the other end of the phone call before Terri swallowed hard and began to speak, although her tears continued.
"There is no easy way to tell you this darling..." Teresa paused and took a deep breath before continuing.
"Oh dear God, Harm, it looks like we've just found Alison Krennick".
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Harm gulped; even though he had been disturbed by Krennick's dogged pursuit of him half a decade earlier, it was something that he had been able to handle with his customary polite good humour.
At the time he had felt – slightly – pleased to be pursued by a woman who gave the impression of knowing what she wanted. Then she had disappeared at the end of the investigation into Diane's death, way back in late May '96 and, frankly, Harm hadn't given her another thought in the intervening years, especially after solving the mystery of Diane's murder (an event which happened just a month before his first, life-changing, meeting with Terri in April of '98).
Harm hoped that Alison's body had not lain undiscovered for five or more years. He sighed; that would be a waste of a good woman and career Navy officer, even if her womanly charms had not been appreciated in his home - and on her terms - in the past. Alison's fit body should have been able to make a man happy - and ensure her own personal satisfaction along the way.
He realised that Terri was calling his name again, tearfully waiting for his answer.
"Sorry darling, I zoned out there for a minute; I'm back in the planet now. Oh boy - any idea how long she's been down there?"
"Nope, we start looking for a pattern next based upon disappearance dates of the other victims as we slowly identify them - but I reckon that she's probably been down here for quite a while. Tomcat, please think back to when you last saw her, because NCIS are going to need help. They'll need to gather *any* intel on her movements in *any* year to work out what happened and when it may have happened. Hell, even being able to narrow it down to a particular year would be helpful. Now, on a slightly lighter matter my darling Tomcat, shall we delay Christmas by a day or will you do the presents and cover for me with Ellie and my Dad?"
Harm's pride in his lovely wife grew once more: even surrounded by death, working to bring truth and a story to the dead and give them closure, Momma Teresa was thinking of her real-life family and especially her daughter. Harm knew, once more, that he had married the right woman.
"Teresa, I reckon our daughter deserves Christmas today on schedule. Anyway, her Grandpa will be here in around 40 minutes, so we'll make a Christmas of it today and you can share a snack with me later; hey, are you eating adequately, pregnant momma?" Sometimes, being married to a senior FBI agent brought a unique set of worries.
"Yes, burgers and fruit juice so far on the order, plus when Gibbs arrives I expect he will have access to Marine-grade coffee so I will be both awake *and* well-fed. See ya later Tomcat and I'll aim to check in around 1600hrs".
"Ok Teresa; be safe - and not more than two burgers in the day; please tell that Agent Gibbs!" He ended with a laugh in his voice.
"Always, darling Tomcat. Harm, look after our daughter please - given what I am standing in right now, I'll need to come home to you both at some point tonight - and I definitely *need* to come home to you, darling Tomcat tonight and back to sanity". Terri was starting to fill up with tears again as she spoke to Harm.
"My pleasure, darling Teresa - sending a big hug down the phone now".
Terri was slightly relieved: she always liked to hear Harm using her full name, because somehow it brought her closer to her Tomcat, even as she stood in the burned-out warehouse about to start processing the frozen corpses of over ten women who seemed to have done nothing wrong, other than having fallen into the clutches of some evil madman - or madwoman, she thought in the interests of remaining open-minded as to the identity of her UNSub. But she wasn't ready to let go of her loving husband's voice in her ear just yet.
Back at their home, Harm momentarily closed his eyes and offered up a quick prayer for his former nemesis; no-one deserved to depart this life in that manner.
In fairness, Alison's behaviour was not a million miles from how Boomer and Zapper used to behave on liberty - it just shocked his sense of "male superiority, cocky jet jockey" when a woman turned huntress.
Harm thought back across the years - he really should be able to deal with being pursued by a lustful woman. He realised that he should have expected this, in the era of equality - and after "Tailhook" in the '90s, many males had wondered about improving their dating technique. He came back down to earth and continued the conversation with Terri.
"OK Terri; look, shall I go ahead with Christmas lunch for Ellie and your father, with presents, hoping to hear from you around 1600hrs if I don't hear from you before. Then I'll wait for the night-time meal for the two of us, so that we can eat together".
"Thanks Tomcat". Terri closed the call and her "warm & fuzzy" feelings of home life were instantly dissipated as she came back to the reality around her. The DC Police were waiting for her directions, with questions regarding her desired disposition of the corpses and the freezers which contained each of the ten women on this floor.
Sliding her cellphone into her pocket and switching fully back into "FBI Agent" mode, Momma Teresa straightened her shoulders and strode determinedly towards the freezers, stepping across puddles to try and reduce her husband's polishing workload. At her seventh step, she failed, with an audible splash!
Tuesday 25th December 2001 - 11:53hrs EST
Crime scene, warehouse district, near Dean & Deluca, M Street NW, Georgetown, Washington DC
"OK Doc, we have taken good-quality fingerprints from all ten women on the main floor. This has confirmed that numbers #1 through #4 are definitely USN officers (we have their names and details) who have been missing for various periods of time and Agent Gibbs has a theory on the pattern".
As he spoke to Terri, McGee was holding the mobile fingerprint device on a cord from his wrist, as he made notes on his PDA. Two police officers, holding hair dryers, gave quiet proof to the methods which had been needed to obtain the fingerprints from the solidly-frozen women.
Terri looked up at the grey-haired former Marine who was walking in her direction.
"Morning Doctor Coulter-Rabb, a bad business": Gibbs shook his head sorrowfully and consulted his notebook.
"Agreed, Agent Gibbs. Oh, Merry Christmas, by the way; even with this terrible discovery today, standing here surrounded by death, I want to remember the renewal of hope that Christ's birth brought, 2001 years ago". Terri touched her cross - the action wasn't missed by Gibbs, who smiled supportively.
"Amen, Doc and thanks - and I do mean that sincerely - for reminding me of today's special status. Today of all days, I reckon that we have a greater reason than ever to identify and bring the killer of these ladies to justice - so that their families can celebrate their re-discovery on Christmas Day and the convictions of the SoB later". Gibbs picked up his coffee from a nearby table, sipped it and grimaced as he realised how many hours it had been cooling down.
He flipped the pages in his notebook. "Right; in order of the freezer number". He drew in a breath and blew out some of his tension before beginning the litany of names.
"#1 - USN Commander Louise Ford- DoB March 1958, 5'6"; single: reported UA Thursday June 2nd 1994: brunette;"
"#2 - USN Commander Alison Krennick; DoB 06-Jan-1960 5'8" (1.73m); single: reported UA on Monday June 3rd 1996: Blonde;"
"#3 - USN Commander Suzanne Winchester - DoB June 1961, 5'7"; divorced without children: reported UA Tuesday June 2nd 1998: brunette";
He paused and looked up at Terri; "Seeing a pattern yet, Doc?"
Terri nodded mutely, then shone her torch on freezer #4. Gibbs resumed:
"#4 - USN Commander Amanda Barcroft - DoB March 1963, 5'11"; hmm, tall girl - single: reported UA 18 months ago on Friday June 2nd 2000; another blonde".
Terri looked into the freezer as one of the FBI techs ran a tape-measure along the top edge, confirming the dimensions. "Yes, her height looks about right given the details on her records. If you look, he's had to bend her knees to force her body to fit into the freezer- especially with those damn silly high-heeled shoes. They are definitely not standard-issue for a female officer's uniform".
She sighed. "Dear God Gibbs, what are we up against - a calendar-obsessed serial with a shoe fetish instead of an alphabet killer?"
"Looks that way, Doc; look, we don't recognise numbers #5 through #10 from military sources, which makes them probable civilian victims - and you are also double-timing here as my senior (and only!) FBI ME representative. My suggestion: do you want to take them for the FBI and get the DNA samples running against MISPERS, whilst I get 'Ducky' Mallard to process our known naval ladies here?"
Terri sighed. "In the normal course of events, Agent Gibbs, I would say yes, but in this case I shall call in reinforcements when I can brief my ASAC - wherever she's disappeared to. However, you need to know that my husband was acquainted with Alison Krennick back around early '96, so I feel an extra measure of loyalty to her, as his 'friend' from JAG days, to start investigating these four USN military casualties first, before I start on those victims who are apparently civilians. Hell, it's Christmas Day so no-one is going to be chasing for reports over the next couple of days, probably until New Year. We need to do the best-possible job with the most exact science, so I'm thinking of double-teaming with Dr Mallard. Let's..."
Terri's musings were interrupted by Mary-Anne Williams, who popped her head around the doorframe and hollered: "Doc? We've just penetrated the floor level below here and.…" Williams hesitated.
Terri looked at her, then turned and raised an eyebrow to Gibbs before she replied over her shoulder: "Go ahead Williams, make my Christmas Day".
Williams swallowed hard before continuing. "Doc, we've found (and opened) another four freezers - and this time he's been collecting female USAF colonels!"
Terri's head sagged; she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and looked at Gibbs; "This guy must *really* dislike women! Well, I reckon that Tim McGee and his little box of tricks should be able to ID our next four discoveries if they are genuine USAF (or at least military) and not just modelling stolen uniforms. Then, we go wake up the Air Force on Christmas Day - agreed, Gibbs?"
Gibbs just grunted his agreement, then hollered "McGee, front and centre in the ten-freezer room".
Only 20 seconds passed before McGee skidded to a halt in the middle of the room. "Yes boss?"
"Downstairs, four more freezers (get them numbered #11 through #14 and labelled up), apparently with female Air Force contents so hook up with AFOSI; sketch, photograph and fingerprint until the Air Force gets back with disposition instructions. Now, I would reckon that the Air Force ladies will be travelling to Dover - does that seem sensible, Doctor Coulter-Rabb?"
Terri nodded: "Yes it does Gibbs. I'm going to have my hands full at the FBI with six civilians, whilst I know that Ducky normally only has three autopsy tables in what he calls his 'lair' over at NCIS. So yes, that disposition of our ladies downstairs seems sensible".
"Thanks Doc: OK McGee, label up the freezers between NCIS, FBI and AFOSI"
"On it, boss".
A thought occurred to Terri; "Agent Gibbs, I'm guessing that this place and even the freezers may offer clues and evidence as we struggle to identify the misogynistic arsehole responsible. I wonder is it worth chasing the manufacturers on Christmas Day?"
He chuckled: "A good idea, Doc and *no* - the records for ten-year-old freezers will - no pun intended - be in deep freeze at the manufacturers' various sites. Excavation of their records will probably be required and I reckon that can wait for the 27th, so let's not ruin anyone else's Christmas - yet."
He squared his shoulders: "OK, let's go down and examine some more bodies".
Tuesday 25th December 2001 - 16:06hrs EST
The home of Cdr Harmon Rabb and Dr Teresa Coulter-Rabb,
33xx Nebraska Avenue NW, Forest Hills, Washington DC
"Rabb speaking; Hey gorgeous Tennessee Momma - thanks for the call and Merry Christmas afternoon".
"Hello Harm, how did the afternoon go?"
"It went very well darling: Ellie is having a nap and we wore out your Dad; he went home in a taxi about 15 minutes ago with a big smile on his face and enough cold cuts of meat to feed him and fill his freezer until the start of the new year. So, all is well here, Mommy. How's it looking?"
Across the miles from Georgetown, Harm could hear Terri sigh. "Pretty damn' horrific down here in Georgetown, I must admit Harm. We found four more - apparently USAF female colonels, based upon their uniforms - in the lower level. We are progressing slowly but surely; we are documenting as we go. However, this will take me longer; we are making progress but..." She paused, giving Harm the chance to comfort her over the phone.
"No problem Teresa - you always bring dignity and explanations to the dead and that is one of the reasons why I love you so much, why your colleagues speak highly of you and why I am so very proud of you, right back to that first case of Jimmy Blackhorse - where you got dragged away from a pleasant social event if I recall".
"What event - oh yes, Christopher's school play; wow, that worked out well for us, didn't it?" For a brief moment, Terri was flooded with "happy thoughts" before the reality of where she was standing came crashing back down again. She loved hearing her Tomcat's voice.
Harm continued: "Do you have any idea on a getting-home time yet?"
"No Tomcat, so you go ahead with the evening with Ellie and get her down on schedule; I am gonna be here into the night I reckon unless we agree a defrosting schedule and spread the work over some days (which, given the date today, is entirely possible)."
"OK, I love you Teresa; just come home safe because I love you and I need you along with our daughter".
Always, Tomcat".
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Tuesday 25th December 2001 - 22:48hrs EST
The home of Cdr Harmon Rabb and Dr Teresa Coulter-Rabb,
33xx Nebraska Avenue NW, Forest Hills, Washington DC
Terri trudged through the doorway of her home, lobbed her greatcoat over a chair and then slumped onto the settee in the lounge alongside Harm. Harm had lit a votive candle as darkness approached, and it was partway through its burn, safely contained in a tall glass tube. Terri recognised the significance of the candle and asked (as she settled on the settee and stretched her booted legs out onto the carpet): "so, is that candle for Alison and how special was she to you - if at all?"
Harm thought for a moment as he reached down, unzipped her boots then pulled her legs around onto his thighs as a prelude to a massage.
"Yes, it's for Alison; but no, she only chased me around the desk and dropped in, uninvited, to my apartment a few times until she mis-read Maria Elena's presence. The last time I saw her was when Diane was killed."
He paused; "The thing is, Terri, that must have been five and a half years ago; oh lord, what if she's been on ice since then - frozen, or held captive, with not one single person apparently caring or noticing that she was missing? That would be a hell (or a purgatory) for any sentient woman. No woman deserves to die in that way. God I am so glad to have you and Ellie in my life, darling Teresa; now relax your legs and let Mr Foot Massage get under way".
Harm reached across and picked up a tray bearing a towel, tissues and the bottle of massage oils. He began by removing her socks and stockings before he then started a gentle foot massage; within five minutes Terri was relaxing. She began to unburden her day.
"Oh Harm, it was horrible; four perfectly fit and healthy female naval officers in addition to the six civilians, slain like cattle and frozen until the fire happened. They were displayed in full Summer Whites uniforms from cover to shoes (although the stiletto shoes were a bit hinky) and frozen stiff with each woman locked separately in her personal freezer. I tell you Harm, it's mad - and I don't want to have to wait for next June when he kidnaps his fifth USN victim (who should be a brunette or dark-haired), so we have *got* to find him beforehand. Then, of course, we found the Air Force girls downstairs".
Harm thought through her points as he continued the foot massages. "Well, what if he didn't meet them in the late May, but captured their trust and romanced them over several months, before he sprang the trap on June first? That would give you background (on any new boyfriends) and a pattern (did their behaviour change over time?) when you start building a profile of each victim".
He tapped her feet and she crossed her legs so that he could work on the other foot as he continued their discussion. He asked another question.
"So what's the deal for you guys as the ME teams work together - leaving the civilians and the Air Force victims on ice whilst you concentrate on the Navy ladies with the NCIS ME? I guess that two heads are better than one each?"
"Well. I reckoned that, because Alison Krennick was (well, she had been in the past) your friend, she deserved a little bit of priority and Gibbs agreed readily as did Ducky. In fairness, it was a lottery as to which corpse we started on first, so I made a bid for Alison and no-one raised any objections. The Air Force ME teams are going to work on their four ladies down in Dover - starting tomorrow - in parallel to us and the USN girls, working one corpse at a time and we'll run regular update calls between the sites to co-ordinate findings and develop any theories as we work through the autopsies".
She gently wrapped her fingers around Harm's collar and pulled him closer. "Also, Ducky told me a lovely story from Britain. December 26th is called 'Boxing Day', because traditionally British families would box up their older presents and donate them to those who were less fortunate". She kissed Harm. "So from tomorrow, I shall be referring to December 26th as Boxing Day".
"Hmm, sounds good; so what will be your priority for this newly-named 'Boxing Day' and what will your workload be like?"
"Sadly, my darling Tomcat, I shall be busy doing FBI ME duty on these newly-discovered ladies".
"OK, that makes sense. So will you be doing that over at NCIS or in the FBI mortuary? I guess the Navy ladies will go to NCIS?"
"Yep, first thing tomorrow I shall be over at NCIS with Ducky Mallard. He's more experienced than me on the psychological autopsy; however he is of the view that he and I make a pretty formidable team. Now, please don't stop doing that, Mr Massage Man". She arched her back at the sensuous touch of his fingers on her feet and began to purr.
"Your wish, dear lady is my command - and you can tell Ducky to keep his lecherous hands off my wife!".
"Harm, Ducky Mallard is far too much of a gentleman to make a pass at a married lady - and he *is* a little bit older than me! Oh God *yes*, just there!". Harm was amused to hear his wife's satisfied purring getting steadily louder.
"Well, whilst you are working with Ducky, I shall have a Boxing Day clean of our home; I shall polish anything I can find and will press any uniforms that I come across."
"Oh good thinking Tomcat: some of my shoes and boots need a bit of TLC - and polish would help keep them waterproof. I am so lucky being married to a military man who understands polishing." She looked down at her discarded boots on the floor and smiled apologetically at Harm: "Oh, sorry but I trod in a puddle in the dark of that darned warehouse today". Harm just sighed theatrically and kept on massaging her feet. Wow, this husband of hers was just so darn good with his fingers!
Some considerable time later (and significantly relaxed from the tense, hunched ME who had walked through the door of her home to a loving husband and a massage), Terri nibbled some food, swallowed a glass of milk and headed for their bed.
That night, her sleep was punctuated by some seriously disturbed dreams; she had seen too much that day for one person (even a battle-hardened FBI ME with naval experience) to process quickly. She realised that the sheer hatred and contempt which the UNSub had displayed towards his victims was simply not understandable to any rational, sane person.
She kept being pursued in her dreams by Alison Krennick who marched after her, with dead eyes frozen wide open and arms outstretched like some smartly-uniformed zombie, stiletto heels rapping out a fast-pace cadence as she pursued Terri down the endless black featureless corridors of her dreamscape.
Terri awoke several times and eventually left the bed (for fear of disturbing Harm).
She wandered into Ellie's room where, sitting in the little feeding rocking chair, she finally fell asleep listening to the steady, innocent and undisturbed breathing of her child. With Terri settled in the company of her daughter, Krennick's apparently wilful spirit stayed away for the rest of the night.
Not surprisingly, it was a grumpy Teresa Coulter-Rabb who woke up the next morning to greet what should have been celebrated as Boxing Day. She was short on sleep and with a stiff neck - simply unready for face the world and what it would demand of her this day.
But duty called - and she had an obligation to speak for the dead. This meant that - just as she had done on her second case with Harm (the Annie Lewis murder case back in '99) - she would give of her very best. She would, as always, speak for these unfortunate victims who could not speak for themselves.
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Wednesday 26th December 2001 - 08:53hrs EST (Terri applies her forensic skills)
Main Reception CP, NCIS HQ, Washington DC
"Happy Boxing Day and good morning Doctor Coulter-Rabb".
"Morning Gibbs; oh, I have a present for you".
Terri handed over her weapon and her USNR credentials to the guard and picked up her NCIS Visitor badge, which she pinned alongside her FBI credentials onto the lapels of her coat. Passing through the large metal detectors (a sad but necessary response to what America was beginning to refer to as "9/11"), she handed Gibbs a disposable cup from one of the local coffee houses.
"Marine grade, I am assured by the barista who looks like he only recently retired the buzz-cut", she smiled.
Gibbs took a sip and nodded appreciatively as he looked at the label. "Hmm, good coffee from my favourite local coffee shop - and you called the man correctly, doc." Taking a further sip, Gibbs switched into "formal NCIS agent" mode. "Thank you, doctor, for coming in and disrupting your family Christmas; I am grateful, because we are a day closer to giving explanations and closure to the families of our four naval ladies".
Gibbs guided Terri down the corridor to the bull-pen, where four Naval ID photographs stared out into the room on the plasma - four women who would never again feel the warmth of the sun on their faces, nor see the beauty in the sky.
All four were frozen at the moment of the photograph. Terri looked particularly closely at the service photograph of Alison Krennick, trying to imagine the woman, alive, chasing the man who was now her husband around a desk in "happier" times during the last century.
Tim McGee stood by his desk, plasma control clicker in his hand. He smiled a welcome at Terri, who kept her hat and coat on, in anticipation of a trip down to the mortuary.
"OK, McGee, whatcha got and where is Ducky?" Gibbs yielded the floor to Tim McGee. "Ducky" Mallard's face appeared in a small window in the corner of the screen - he was linked in by VC from his basement mortuary.
"Morning Doctor Coulter-Rabb; Ok, we have Ford, Krennick, Winchester and Barcroft - in that order of disappearance in '94 then '96 then '98 and 2000; the sequence is brunette then blonde then brunette then blonde. Heights vary - apparently random".
Terri momentarily thought to herself "Glad I'm a natural blonde - I would hate to be a brunette in 2002" but dismissed the thought as disrespectful to her customers. She lobbed in a question of her own: "OK, NCIS, what have you heard from AFOSI on the four Air Force ladies that we found?"
"They were all genuine USAF officers – colonels - and they have been identified so we have names and locations; they were based around CONUS. All were single or unmarried and all were listed as UA within a day or two of June 1st in '95, '97, '99 and '01 - so he was still active earlier this year. Hair colours match our sequence - started with a brunette, then he took a blonde, then brunette, then a blonde just like our Navy ladies here with Ducky downstairs. Looks like he started with the Navy back in '94" observed Tim.
"Hmm, or she did?" Terri was hypothesising as she went along. "The UNSub could be a female - she gets under their defences with some plausible cover story and gains their confidence more easily, snuggles (OR SLITHERS) inside their safety zone and then - BLAM, they're gone from the face of the earth! How long before our Navy ladies were noticed as missing - anything in the reports to raise our interest?"
"Actually, they were reported UA mostly on the same day every year, but Commander Barcroft wasn't spotted as UA until her neighbours heard the distressed wailing of a hungry cat in her condo." Tim paged through the reports on his laptop. "Nothing jumps out at me from the reports, doc".
Gibbs chipped in: "So eight years at least, '94 through to this year without missing a beat, all around June 1st, one woman every year from the military, plus six more females whom we are assuming to be civilian at present, on an unknown timeline; what's the significance?"
"We also need to ID the apparently-civilian females - he or she might have started slaying civilians up to '93, then graduated to hunting military women because it presented a 'harder target' or more difficult challenge - we simply don't know yet, nor why he limited himself to USN and USAF women and targeted civilians in parallel".
At this, McGee looked quizzical; Gibbs leaned in for a gentle head-slap, which McGee accepted without question - to Terri's considerable amusement. "No Boss, that wasn't it; I am wondering why he didn't go for Army, Marines - or even the Coast Guard?"
"Ya think, McGee?"
"Well - unless we haven't found his other lair for green-uniformed women yet, boss" McGee countered.
Terri smiled encouragingly at the junior NCIS agent. "Agent McGee, that is good, original, parallel thinking - just what we are seeking - well done. Gibbs, might I suggest your IT wizard here starts looking at property records for the building - if all else fails, 'follow the money'". Terri felt that it was time to encourage the junior NCIS agent; Gibbs nodded his appreciation and grunted. McGee smiled proudly, paying attention to Terri. They were all beginning to bounce ideas off each other - the tempo of the meeting was rising.
"We're already on it, doc: the building was last registered in '93 and the electricity supply had been hot-wired. The current landowner is in Seattle, Washington; they picked it up at auction after a bankruptcy and had then simply sat on it until the re-zoning and gentrification project kicks off at some future date yet to be determined. Because it is in the centre of the block, it gives a property company some leverage when negotiations start. I've emailed the local NCIS office in the Puget Sound shipyard to make a visit and dig through records, but frankly I am not optimistic of getting useful data - it's just been sitting there, according to the records, apparently empty and unloved since '93. Reading between the lines, I don't reckon that anyone from Seattle has set foot in the building since the auction back in '93". McGee finished his update.
Terri patted McGee's arm gently. "Thanks - Tim isn't it? Well, I guess no-one would notice someone dropping off a body every year, would they? OK, so why the hair colours? What does that signify? Terri walked closer to the screen, peering at the ID photographs. "Can we pull up the Airforce ladies as well; why did he go for blondes and brunettes only" she mused. "Why no red-heads?" she asked; Gibbs chuckled quietly in the background and she spun around to look quizzically at him. His face straightened and he raised a hand, in a "sorry" gesture, in her direction.
Tim McGee leaned in and whispered "Serial husband of red-headed Gibbs wives, doc" quietly in her ear.
Terri smiled and gently nodded her acknowledgement of that piece of intel on "stone-face" Gibbs. "Yes and why concentrate on single (or at least visibly unmarried) women?" Terri thought that one through for a moment, her fingers playing with her wedding and engagement rings. At that point, Ducky Mallard piped up from the video screen. "Actually Dr Coulter-Rabb, we made a discovery as the hands were thawed out, once we lifted the ladies onto the exam tables (we have added a fourth table down here now, so it is a little crowded); each woman was wearing a plain gold wedding band on the ring finger of her left hand".
"Oh yuk" was Terri's instant response; "OK, is that mirrored with AFOSI? I'll get Williams to check the corpses in FBI storage. What *WAS* this sick SoB playing at – surely all these women were single?"
Ducky picked up immediately, thinking through the psychology of the crime; "Well, it could signify ownership; keeping these women speaks to a desire for a family..."
He paused as Terri laughed softly: "Trust me Dr Mallard - he'd get *way* further with me using wine, chocolates, flowers, soft lighting, a killer smile and a great personality - without doubt - and that is before we open negotiations about clothing, comfortable shoes - and jewellery!"
As the general laughter in the room subsided, Ducky looked troubled: "And the final item - personality - could be the key here. My dear colleagues, this debate has been fascinating and most insightful - I am glad that we have been able to bring our skills and knowledge together".
Gibbs joined Terri alongside the plasma screen. Eight blank faces now looked out at him - the "Air Force ladies" (as Terri had christened them) had joined the display of the USN victims.
"OK, so as expected we have more questions than answers at this stage of our investigation. Hmm, I'd suggest that, perhaps, a single woman would disappear with less of a ripple - or maybe without creating any ripples in the pool of life - than a married woman with a husband and a couple of kids. Remember that some married women don't wear their wedding bands for operational reasons, but he's managed to home in on, then pick, eight singletons. That surely cannot be a coincidence".
"Rule 39, Boss?" enquired McGee; Gibbs nodded.
Terri picked up on the play between the two NCIS agents. "OK, I'll have to ask as the non-NCIS girl present! What's this Rule 39?" Terri looked at Gibbs for illumination and enlightenment.
He smiled: "The rules which I teach my agents; Rule 39 means 'there is no such thing as coincidence' and I reckon that this applies; whaddya say, Duckman?".
On the screen, Ducky Mallard leaned into the screen: "I would say that we have examined the circumstantial evidence and now we should look at the physical evidence - I believe that it is time to squint through a magnifying glass. My dear Dr Coulter-Rabb, may I invite you down to join me in my basement lair? I am sure that young Timothy would be honoured to guide you down".
"Sure thing - see you shortly I guess; please lead on, Tim".
Three minutes later, Terri stepped in to the mortuary; Ducky met her, shook hands and directed her to the coat-stand and then the changing room. She turned to McGee. "Tim, may I please ask a favour? I wonder if you could get me an NCIS or other long, warm sweatshirt, because I am in the fourth month of my pregnancy and I need to keep my little passenger warm. I suspect that I shall be here in Dr Mallard's chilly lair for quite some time". She smiled, making her request for a sweat-shirt seem even less like the order which, in fact, it had been.
Tim smiled; he had, until now, only seen Terri wrapped up in her coat, at the crime scene and in the bull-pen upstairs. "No problem Dr Coulter-Rabb - and congratulations on the pregnancy; I shall attend to the sweatshirt request personally and at once, whilst you change". Tim backed out of the mortuary and headed for the elevator.
By the time that Terri had removed her coat, scarf, sweater, skirt, bra, boots and socks, pulled on a set of scrubs and stepped into a set of clogs, McGee was back; Terri stepped back into the changing room and slipped on the sweatshirt beneath her scrubs. Instantly, she felt her core temperature move upwards - three minutes of wearing chilled scrubs against her unclad body had made her feel uncomfortable; she was beginning to regret removing her bra, but didn't want the added complication, at day's end, of heading back home with "biologicals" (as the Brits so charmingly described such materials) splashed on any part of her outdoor clothing if they had splattered through her scrubs.
She had already checked out Ducky's shower with its basic set of (male) toiletries. Dry towels were helpfully located in a small, warm, airing cupboard within reach of the shower stall. The NCIS mortuary had, evidently, been set up to accommodate those medics who were working shift-to-shift on long-running examinations. She spotted a shower cap to protect her hair, then nodded her approval at the arrangements and re-entered the chill of the main mortuary.
Ducky stood at the head of the first (or four) examination tables.
"Here we have our first lady (1994): USN Commander Louise Ford- DoB March 1958, 5'6"; reported UA Thursday June 2nd 1994: brunette".
As he removed the covering cloth, Terri felt a shudder move through her: Commander Ford had been visibly pregnant at the time of her final demise. She looked at Ducky; in response, he walked down the line of tables and gently peeled back the white sheet which was covering each of the other three female Navy Commanders; he placed the sheet across the groin area of each woman, exposing her upper torso whilst leaving the groin and legs covered to protect the dead woman's modesty. Terri gasped - the similarity in each corpse was unmistakable.
Terri surveyed the scene; Louise Ford, Alison Krennick, Suzanne Winchester and Amanda Barcroft had all been - to Terri's trained eye - around five or six months pregnant when they had been killed. Which meant that the murder count had just doubled. She mused - for a moment - as to how Harm would react to the sight of a visibly-pregnant Allison Krennick wearing a wedding ring - then dismissed the thought; her Tomcat only needed one woman for the rest of his life - and *she* already wore his wedding band along with the Rabb family female legacy ring when she hugged him and their children (born and, at this stage, unborn).
In that moment, Terri decided that Harm would only receive a heavily-redacted report about her case from her in the evenings.
Ducky was working on Louise Ford's corpse - he believed in giving his customers the respect of being addressed by name. Terri instantly saw the logic of this courtesy - and she joined in as she approached the table after changing into her scrubbs.
"Hello Louise, I am Terri Coulter-Rabb of the FBI (I am also a Commander in the USN Navy Reserves) and I am honoured to be making your acquaintance, despite these circumstances". Across the table, Ducky nodded approvingly - he was going to get on just fine with this younger expert pathologist - her care and consideration in speaking to the corpses was a major positive mark from his point of view. Terri carried on: "Louise, I intend to find out who killed you and the baby inside you..."
Her voice tailed off as Ducky's hands measured across the swollen abdomen of Louise Ford's corpse. Suddenly, Ducky looked puzzled.
"Doctor Coulter-Rabb?" Ducky's tone was questioning as he picked up a magnifying glass.
"Oh Ducky, please call me Terri, if I may address you as Ducky?".
"With pleasure. Terri, looking at this abdomen, I believe that young Louise here is carrying (excuse me, *was* carrying) twins".
Terri checked Ducky's approximations and was forced to agree. If Ducky's suspicions were correct, the death count in the mortuary had just increased by 50%. An x-ray examination was arranged - the sad layout of the skeletons on the x-ray picture left no doubt. Terri found herself rubbing her waistline, thinking of the new life growing within her. She snapped back into her "pathologist" mode.
"Gestational development progression?"
"Somewhere around five to six months, I would reckon. I think that all four of our ladies are carrying twins. OK, let's check with AFOSI and determine whether the USAF ladies were also pregnant with twins; because, if so, we are looking at something seriously weird here".
An hour later, the x-ray evidence was conclusive - Louise, Alison, Suzanne and Amanda had all been pregnant with twins, at the five to six month stage of pregnancy, when they had met their deaths. Standing at the light-box and looking at four x-ray plates which signified twelve deaths, Terri frowned in concentration.
"I concur about the gestational duration. Dear God Ducky, what the hell did he do with them?"
"I don't know yet Terri, but I swear that I shall do my best to get to the truth, so that, *WHEN* the legal process catches up with the person responsible, the jury will only need to take the time to drink one cup of coffee each in the Jury Summoning Room before they hand down a unanimous guilty verdict.".
"OK, lets' wash the bodies and start examining the natural skin". Terri picked up the magnifying glass.
Removing the outer uniforms had revealed that the uniforms had been buttoned up at the front (and actually neatly stitched closed, Terri noticed) then slit down the back seam before being threaded over the corpse in each case, with a gap at the back (out of sight when the bodies had first been discovered in their individual freezers); this meant that their pre-pregnancy uniforms had been used. But were they all kidnapped in uniform? This was a point to pass to Gibbs for further investigation.
Washing the bodies revealed several worrying sets of evidence - deep rusty marks around the necks, wrists and ankles of each woman, once the clothing, underwear and hosiery had been removed. This also revealed numbers carved in the soles of each woman's left foot - "N1" through to "N4", working from Louise through to Amanda.
"How the hell were these women restrained?" Terri wondered, speaking out aloud as she pulled on a fresh set of forensic gloves and examined Alison Krennick's wrist.
The irony of the woman being found wearing a wedding ring (following Harm's description of Krennick's cougar-like antics when she had been out "on the hunt") amused Terri - she felt that Alison would have done *anything* rather than be seen as someone's committed, loyal - and above all, monogamously faithful - wife.
A grim-faced Ducky provided the answer as he thought through the psychology of the situation. "They were shackled and collared - he would control them completely; these women could have been confined in a large cell with no hope of escape; the needle marks on their elbows imply that he drugged them, either to keep them docile or to have them unconscious when he impregnated them - and *that* would take a significant element of timing, to catch each woman at her fertile peak. The UNSub would need to understand endocrinology and female physiology - and has probably been improving his technique as the years have gone by. Additionally, he would need a lair - somewhere isolated, sealed, soundproofed and completely secure; that warehouse wouldn't fit every criterion, but he obviously felt comfortable stashing his victims there after he had committed the final insult to each of them, bringing their torment to an end".
"OK Ducky - so we need blood work from all of them to identify what compounds are floating around in their blood streams - this may help us identify how he controlled them - and maybe where he purchased the drugs. Most of the drugs I can think of in this category are not OTC- you would need a prescription, and long-term supply would be easier to spot. Then, how did he impregnate them - where did the eggs and sperm come from?".
Terri shivered. The right to choose who fathered her children - and when and how - was a woman's basic human right; what the heck had these poor women gone through and how low had this UNSub sunk?
A phone call to the Air Force ME team confirmed four sets of twins inside the four USAF corpses. Terri and Ducky nodded at each other in triumph - they had a pattern. The USAF women also had numbers "A1", "A2", "A3" and - worryingly - "A5" carved into the left feet of the Air Force ladies, again in the sequence of their disappearance.
"I don't get it - why impregnate a woman, let her carry the twins more than halfway to term and then kill her? This is just cruel, cruel, cruel" lamented Ducky. Terri had to agree with him.
Within a few hours, the source of the eggs was confirmed based upon tissue typing; DNA testing confirmed absolutely some hours after that. There was no doubt that Louise Ford's own eggs had been used to conceive her twins - probably extracted from her stimulated ovaries, fertilised in-vitro then re-implanted into her to settle and grow. This was truly cold-blooded.
"OK, let's get a DNA profile for the male contributor".
"And I'll start extracting DNA from the other three women in here - let's update the USAF ME and get the extractions running on their four victims. We should have more evidence by morning, so let's book a VC in MTAC for 0930 tomorrow, the 27th. Terri, might we meet around 0900hrs tomorrow? We can compare any thoughts from overnight as we enjoy our first coffees. I also want the USAF ME to check for needle marks above the ovaries if they did a polycystic extraction - if you look here on Louise's belly, you can see the needle marks; so add an ultrasound kit to the list of what our UNSub would need to hit the ovaries cleanly every time he ran an eggstraction".
As she chuckled at the humorous mispronunciation, Terri frowned. "MTAC, Ducky?".
"Ah yes, sorry my dear - that is our Multiple Threat Assessment Centre here upstairs in NCIS; we can communicate - securely - anywhere in the world. I shall book the system for a one-hour slot, starting at a time which is mutually convenient for our counterparts in the USAF".
"OK Ducky; that sounds like a plan. I am going to assume that the USAF will put their top man (or woman) on the case?"
"Oh yes: if it is the person whom I expect to be assigned, there is none finer in the ranks of the USAF" He stood straight and looked at her. "And now, to our homes, I think; would you care to shower and dress first, whilst I finish my notes at the table over there?"
Yes please Ducky; I need to warm up and clean up. Then I just want to get home to Harm and Ellie - and I would *really* like to put my feet up for a while - these clogs are not the panacea that I hoped they would be!"
"My dear Terri; that definitely concludes our business today - you are going home to your husband and daughter, plus as a pregnant momma you need some R&R for the rest of the day. I also must get home to Mother before she starts trying to feed the corgi dogs in preference to herself. You know where everything is in the changing rooms, I presume, from this morning?"
"Yes thank you Ducky". she paused and looked at him. "You seem at ease with the idea of children and motherhood; do you have children?"
As Terri asked the question, she could see Mallard's face falling into a brief hint of sadness. Then he brightened: "Unfortunately Terri, I have never had the privilege of marriage or fatherhood (my one-and-only 'soul-mate' decide to marry my best friend back in the days of my youth), but I *did* donate sperm as a medical student and I know that there were five live births - three girls and two boys".
He sighed deeply, long-forgotten memories bubbling to the surface. "But marriage itself? Sadly no; after Maggie got married to Angus, the 'wife and family' motif never happened for me. As a lesson, look at what happened to Gibbs after he lost *his* soulmate, wrecking his life by repeatedly marrying the wrong woman over and over; so I abandoned a career in obstetrics and dragged my medical kit around the military and humanitarian hot-spots of the planet for the next few decades".
Terri walked over and hugged the elder ME, kissing him warmly on the cheek. "Well Ducky, I reckon that the potential mothers of this world have been robbed by your dedication to helping the human race. You must tell me about Gibbs and his soul-mate sometime - but not today because I need to get home. Maybe it would be time to seek out your offspring - how would you feel about offering up DNA matching on one of the adoption tracing websites that have sprung up around the Web?"
"Hmm, I have pondered this previously, but then I decided that I shall wait until Mother has passed on: in her present state, she would have problems grasping the theory of my having offspring who are not - technically - her grand-children. However, thank you Terri for the idea and the encouragement; your advice will be followed, just not today".
"Fair enough Ducky - but I am certain that all the dead people who have passed through your 'office' have benefited from your care and your determination to find out the maximum amount of information so that their killers can be brought to justice. If anything were to happen to me, I would hope for a 'Ducky Mallard' to carry out the autopsy on me and help to chase down the culprit".
"Indeed Terri and the feeling is mutual; your record in Memphis and your recent cases here in DC (especially the work on the Annie Lewis case) are held in very high regard by your peers. In the unlikely - dear God, I hope *very* unlikely - event that something were to happen to you, it would be my pleasure to seek out and define the perpetrator. But obviously Terri, I sincerely hope that one would never be in that situation".
"Thank you Ducky - and our ladies here deserve the same".
The two MEs hugged once more, eyes shining with unshed tears.
"Thank you, Terri".
"My pleasure Ducky; now let me get showered then changed into my civvies and I'll be away home".
Fifteen minutes later, Terri was showered, dried, fully dressed and ready to head home. With her uschanka in her hand (ready to perch on her head as she left the building) she bade a final farewell to Ducky as he steadily wrote up his findings at his table, with a small glass of Scotch whisky at his side.
"Goodnight, Ducky. See you here in the morning".
"Goodnight, Terri. I shall arrange coffee to welcome you down here".
Wednesday 26th December 2001 - 19:37hrs EST
The home of Cdr Harmon Rabb and Dr Teresa Coulter-Rabb,
33xx Nebraska Avenue NW, Forest Hills, Washington DC
Terri arrived home to find that Harm, pre-warned by her call, had kept Ellie up and entertained until Mommy came home from "the wars". Terri hugged her daughter gratefully and then slumped, still fully clothed, on the sofa.
"Thanks Tomcat, I needed my family after today - obviously I shall update you on today's discoveries after this little lady's bedtime".
"Understood, darling". Harm kissed her cheek gently, then folded a supporting arm around each of his two ladies.
Half an hour later, Ellie had been settled into her bed and the Coulter-Rabb parents settled on the sofa Terri had removed her outer clothing and was curled up on the sofa.
She took Harm's hand and kissed it, then looked up into his eyes, tears forming as she knew what she had to tell her husband about his dead friend.
"OK Harm, here's what I know so far; your friend Alison Krennick is confirmed as a casualty. By the way, she was an attractive woman - as were all of the victims. But Harm, there is so much more: they were all purposefully impregnated, each being allowed to carry her twin babies for five or six months then just...…"
Much later, a horrified Harmon Rabb held his pregnant wife very close and offered up a prayer for Alison Krennick's soul. He was certain that, no matter how annoying she might have been during her life, no-one deserved to die in the manner which had been visited upon Cdr Alison Krennick and her fellow taken female commanders.
Thursday 27th December 2001 - 09:30hrs EST
NCIS Multiple Threat Assessment Centre (MTAC), NCIS HQ, Washington DC
"Good Morning Doctor Coulter-Rabb and Dr Mallard; compliments from the USAF Medical Identification Centre; how are things in DC?"
"Good morning General Straker; it is a sad reason for us to be in conference two days after Christmas, but we have a sacred duty - we have eight ladies (plus the six civilian victims) whose families need answers. We also have Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs from NCIS with us here today in MTAC - he will be on point (and liaising with AFOSI) as this investigations move from pathology into detection and - I pray - apprehension of the UNSub. All is otherwise fine here in DC - how are things looking in Dover?"
"Pretty good; let's summarise. Each of our four ladies was around five or six months pregnant, with twins conceived from her own eggs and fertilised with sperm from the same male donor - we sent the samples to you overnight and I can confirm that our lab tech here in Dover has received the samples which *you* sent across to us last night for a cross-check".
"Yes, we received yours overnight here in DC. So far, a basic serology test by our overnight lab teams indicate that all eight sets of twins have the same father - a DNA profile for this offender should follow by lunchtime".
"Damn, I was still hoping for a different outcome". Across the video feed, Brigadier General Eileen Straker, USAF MD, dropped her head for a moment, then looked up at the camera once more. "I want this bastard's balls for this. As a woman I am offended, as a military officer I am damned angry; as a military leader this is a terrible waste of senior female officers whom my country has trained and invested heavily in; they are (hell, they would have been) the leadership cadre for the 2010s and beyond. If this bastard is a foreigner, I want to declare war - even if he's a Canadian!"
"Well, my dear General, that may be slightly premature; I remember in Australia many years ago..."
Terri placed a gentle, restraining hand on Ducky's arm, interrupting his reminiscences: "Focus please Ducky".
In the background Gibbs chuckled to himself: this newly-arrived USNR/FBI ME had obviously got the measure of Ducky Mallard in very short order; he was looking forward to the enjoyment of continuing working with Doctor Teresa Coulter-Rabb. Plus, she was married to a USN officer - so she evidently had good taste. It was, Gibbs mused, a shame that the guy was a JAG but heck, you don't always get everything that you want in life - look at his suddenly-curtailed joy with Shannon and Kelly back in 1991.
Meanwhile, Ducky landed back on Planet Earth. "Eh? Oh, sorry Teresa, I digressed."
"Yes you did, and that *will* come later when we celebrate throwing away the key when this bastard goes down for these murders". Terri smiled to soften the blow; this might be the only laughter that they would have all day. Across the vid screen, Straker smiled at the interplay between her new-found colleagues in DC.
Terri gestured to the Comms tech to start the MTAC data links. For the next hour, USN and USAF teams swapped information, compared notes and identified points of similarity (with many points where the data was identical).
By the end of the session, the conclusion was clear; eight military women had been kidnapped; their ovaries had been accessed and their eggs had been taken and then fertilised with sperm from the same man in all cases; then their eggs had been re-implanted into the women in perfect time for conception to occur. After that, the eight pregnant captive military mothers - with their sixteen foetuses - had been kept alive, in good health with good pregnancy care, then slain as the foetuses reached the 5th or 6th month of gestation within their mothers. Their mothers had been chained (with no hope of escape) and repeatedly injected, but had been kept well-nourished.
The NCIS and AFOSI lab techs were still tearing their hair out, trying to identify the complex chemical cocktail which was still sloshing around inside the bodies of the women (all of which had been thawed and were now being kept in the chiller drawers of the mortuaries in NCIS in DC and the Armed Forces Medical Examiner System (AFMES) centre in Dover AFB in Delaware). In parallel, Terri had arranged for the FBI mortuary to keep the apparently "civilian" victims on ice (she had smiled and said openly "no pun deliberately intended" as she had issued the orders to the FBI mortuary team).
The biggest remaining question was "why" - which, everyone hoped, would lead to the ultimate question - "who?" A side-trip into "when exactly?" would be an added (and welcome) bonus for the conviction of this psychopath/sociopath, she realised.
"OK folks, let's get back to the labs; Same time tomorrow, everyone?"
TCR&HR-TCR&HR-TCR&HR-TCR&HR
Thursday 27th December 2001 - 19:11hrs EST
The home of Cdr Harmon Rabb and Dr Teresa Coulter-Rabb,
33xx Nebraska Avenue NW, Forest Hills, Washington DC
Terri unlocked the front door; Harm had heard her car arriving in the garage and was ready to welcome her, with Ellie alongside him to welcome her mommy back home. He took her coat and hung it in the closet, pointing out the laid-out slippers in the carpet of the hallway; she nodded gratefully and bent down to unzip her boots and pull off her socks and stockings. She luxuriated for a second in the warmth of the under-floor heating in the hallway, then slid her feet into the slippers. She wandered slowly into the kitchen, picking up a gleeful Ellie and hugging her close before settling her daughter into her chair around the breakfast bar. Her rumbling stomach suddenly reminder her that not only was she by now quite hungry, but she was eating for two. Harm smiled at her and began serving one of his home-cooked special meals.
After dinner, she took Ellie up and settled her daughter into her bed to read her a bed-time story. Returning to the kitchen, she reached out a hand to Harm as he carried two mugs of freshly-brewed coffee towards the lounge.
"Stay here Harm, please - I need to talk".
Once she had met (and bedded) Harmon Rabb junior, Teresa had realised that the concept of "compartmentalisation" only goes so far. This meant that she could talk about the day, unlike her solo days in Memphis when she sometimes felt that she just went "back into her box" at the end of each working day. Teresa was grateful, in so many ways, for being dragged out to "Butthole Arizona" (she *was* joking, she smiled to herself) on that fateful Jimmy Blackhorse mission almost four years earlier.
Harm nodded, brought the coffees across to the breakfast bar then, taking Terri's hand, settled on the stool alongside her and looked expectantly into her eyes.
"Harm, I am conscious that, if NCIS and AFOSI are lucky and do their jobs right and the UNSub screws up somewhere, you may be prosecuting this bastard. But I need to give you some details, even though I am constrained by what I can say, because I need to talk through the sheer unremitting awfulness of the past three days, simply for my own sanity. So please bear with me darling - OK?"
Harm flashed her his trademark "Flyboy" smile, then leaned in and kissed his pregnant wife once more. "Yes sure, Terri, off you go; but do we need to schedule you for a session with Vera McCool or one of her colleagues over at Bethesda for a professional session (or sessions) once this is over?".
"You know, Harm, that might be a brilliant idea; please remind me when we've got this case onto a legal docket please". She kissed him again, before she continued her story.
"Now then, on Christmas morning I arrived at the old warehouse...…."
In all, they talked for over an hour before deciding to head straight to bed.
That night, Alison Krennick, with her dead eyes and killer heels, stayed away from Terri's dreams. She slept soundly, tightly spooned with her husband and cushioning her growing baby, right through until the morning alarm clock.
Friday 28th December 2001 - 08:53hrs EST
Main Reception, NCIS HQ, Washington DC
"Morning Doctor Coulter-Rabb".
Terri handed over her weapon after proving it safe, along with her USNR credentials;
"Good morning, Master Sergeant - another day as a visitor to your fine establishment".
"Indeed doctor, I took the liberty of telephoning Agent Gibbs as I saw you start up the footpath".
"Why thank you, Master Sergeant - with the autopsies again today, that lightens my load slightly and I appreciate the courtesy on what will be another busy day down in Autopsy".
The Marine guard handed across her NCIS Visitor badge, which she pinned alongside her FBI credentials onto the lapels of her coat as she prepared to walk through the metal detectors.
"Good morning Terri"; Ducky Mallard had arrived just behind Terri.
"Hey Ducky; the Master Sergeant here was just telling me that he has told Gibbs that I was arriving".
The familiar voice boomed out from behind: "Indeed he did; welcome Dr Coulter-Rabb; morning Ducky; thank you Master Sergeant";
"Hello Gibbs; another day in paradise, then?" Terri handed Gibbs his "Marine-strength" coffee, which he acknowledged with a smile.
"Indeed, Doctor. Shall we...?"
The three investigators walked along the corridors and then descended into the basement mortuary, where they would be working until they headed upstairs to MTAC for the VC with Straker later in the morning.
"Duckman, how is the psychological autopsy going? I forgot to ask yesterday". Terri had adopted DiNozzo's affectionate form of address for the older ME.
"Actually Terri, it has gone well; I would like to bounce my ideas off you as we start on our first coffee of this morning".
"Sounds good to me; shall I change whilst you get the coffee brewing?"
Like all forces personnel, who regularly change station or pitch up in unfamiliar surroundings and need to get productive quickly, Terri and Ducky had rapidly fallen into an easy way of communicating and a comfortable way of working. This worked well for their interactions with Gibbs, the former Marine Gunnery Sergeant.
They gathered around Ducky's little table to review the bulky files of evidence; within five minutes, by mutual agreement, the three of them had agreed to move upstairs to a warmer conference centre with its larger tables. Terri and Ducky kept their scrubs on as they migrated to the warmer working environment.
The autopsy work would continue across the weekend, wrapping up on the Monday of New Year's Eve with a complete set of files for the prosecution team, listing all the eight military victims. Now, all they needed was a suspect!
TCR&HR-TCR&HR-TCR&HR-TCR&HR
Chapter 12 - Part 21 - "Birthday".
Tuesday 1st January 2002 - 15:59hrs EST
The home of Cdr Harmon Rabb and Dr Teresa Coulter-Rabb,
33xx Nebraska Avenue NW, Forest Hills, Washington DC
New Years Day of 2002 also saw the third birthday of Ellen Coulter-Rabb.
Harm and Terri had stayed up to welcome in the New Year and then retired by around 00:30hrs; Ellie was beginning to understand the idea of New Year (and, more importantly, the idea behind the statement that "Mommy and Daddy want a lie-in in the morning" - which normally meant that she went to bed with extra juice and cookies, ready for an impromptu early breakfast snack if she wanted food when she woke up before she heard her parents moving the next morning! The plan had worked well; Terri and Harm had awoken around 08:20hrs and the family had enjoyed a leisurely breakfast around 10:00hrs.
Harm hugged Terri in his arms as she stood in the kitchen, admiring their daughter. She looked up at him. "Hey, Tomcat, do you remember what Caroline said as she delivered Ellie?"
"No, sorry darling, I was in a combination of shock and ecstasy at that point" Harm replied honestly. Terri turned around and snuggled into his chest: "well, as I recall, it was:"
"OK, you have a lovely girl as expected, 6lbs 3oz; birth time 23:53hrs, Friday 1st January 1999; Happy New Year everyone!"
"And now, three years later, we have the neighbourhood kids plus the kids from the FBI day nursery coming over at 3pm on another New Year's Day. What a difference three years can make!"
"I love you, Teresa".
"Oh and I love you too, Tomcat!"
They hugged once more, then set about policing the kitchen and setting up the lounge and dining room for the upcoming kiddies' party.
TCR&HR-TCR&HR-TCR&HR-TCR&HR
After the New Year vacation, Terri returned to the FBI headquarters building to begin the FBI contribution of the "Motherhood Killer" (in advance of a formal assignment of an identifier). The entire case would officially be led by the FBI in collaboration with NCIS and AFOSI because of the presence of civilian victims as well as the fact that victims were taken from different states in CONUS and were found in the geographical area of DC.
Terri was clear, in opening every meeting and teleconference and VC, that this was a collaborative project: "We speak for all victims equally - never forget that principle in your individual endeavours" was her catchphrase at the end of every meeting.
Investigations and analysis would continue well into the early part of 2002 as the Task Force went back - one more time - over every piece of evidence. Having learned all that she could from the bodies of the four USN victims, Terri concentrated in her lab in the FBI mortuary and began work on defrosting the other victims, one-by-one, examining each of the six civilian corpses and steadily building the body of evidence about the UNSub (whom the investigators were now referring to as "UNSub94" in light of the year of his first - known so far - military kill), in the hope that one day a conviction would be possible.
Given the importance of the case and the need for an almost obsessively-clinical attention to detail in building the charges, Admiral Chegwidden had brought in the recently-promoted Cdr Faith Coleman TAD from San Diego. Terri took a while to get accustomed to working with Coleman, her "OCD briefcase from hell" and the woman's - unusual and apparently painless - pose of sitting with every joint in her body (elbows, hips, knees) at a perfect 90-degree angle.
Terri had to admit however that Faith Coleman succeeded in making the female US Navy officer's uniform look sexy - perfect posture, gleaming buttons, gleaming shoes, every badge and medal ribbon perfectly aligned and not a hair out of place in the "bun". Only rarely, however, did a smile disrupt the pursed lips.
Every morning, Terri looked over at Faith as she opened her briefcase and prepared her pencils for the day. Never - ever - did Terri see a hair out of place. Terri had joked to Harm that she sometimes half-expected to see Faith plug herself into the electricity mains and switch off into "standby Android" mode at the end of the day, but she had seen Faith unwind - slightly - during social events which were organised regularly for the benefit of the sanity of the Task Force members as they built the case against "UNSub94".
All of the investigators involved in this horrific case were very clear of the need to unwind regularly and to talk about any stresses or concerns that the case caused them - it was important to decompress and Faith's exposure to the minutiae of the case files was likely to increase the stress upon her.
This Coleman woman was odd; but she was a hell of a knowledgeable and detailed lawyer; and *that* was exactly what Terri needed to nail this UNSub at the prosecution, trial and conviction stage.
It was estimated that the investigation into the "Motherhood Killer" would take around five to six weeks.
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Monday 11th February 2002 - 15:53hrs EST
NCIS Multiple Threat Assessment Centre (MTAC), NCIS HQ, Washington DC
The final case conference in the first week of February 2002 had loaded all the information into the case management systems; the DNA profile was loaded into NCIS and AFOSI databases, VICAP and the national criminal DNA database.
The Monday afternoon conference was convened to conduct a final review; General Straker had dialled in with her head of AFOSI investigations. The hunt for UNSub94 was now on the back burner; all they could do was to wait.
In closing the meeting, Gibbs thanked everyone and finished with a (hopefully uplifting) prediction: "Now, all we need to do is continue watching and regularly updating our investigations but pray that this SoB slips up".
As the meeting broke up, Terri stepped out of the shielded door of MTAC and picked up her cellphone; it was time to fulfill her promise made at Christmas to her husband.
"Hello, Dr McCool's office? I need to schedule an appointment with her, or an equivalent. Yes, my name is Dr Teresa Ellen Coulter-Rabb. I am a USNR ME and FBI ME; we're wrapping up a distressing case involving NCIS, the FBI, AFOSI and a serial. Yes, of course..."
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Chapter 12 - Part 22 - "Navy Victim 2002/1".
Thursday 14th February 2002 - 21:35hrs EST
Catz 'n' Dogz Bar & Grill, Southside, Constitution Street, Georgetown, Washington DC
As the party paused for a refill of the drinks, LtCdr Faith Coleman eased out of the booth around the large table. She stood up, adjusting to standing in her uncharacteristically-tall high heels and smoothed out the creases in her leather skirt as she surveyed the table before her. Ten colleagues were sharing a "run ashore" after completing a JAG legal standards workshop over the past three days in Falls Church, following on from her TAD work on the UNSUB94 case. The group decision had been to stay on after the course end, to celebrate to success of the entire cadre in achieving certification. Her cups of coffee and glasses of water had run through her body and she needed to make room for more wine.
Faith was also marking the one-year anniversary of the break-up from the Marines Colonel who had shared her life in San Diego for two years before he finally could no longer cope with her little idiosyncrasies (or, as he had eventually come to term them, "Faith's big OCD hang-ups"). Faith had felt that she had accommodated Pete during their relationship - she felt that she had loosened up somewhat (after all, she had made love with him at least every month, which was a major relaxation for Faith) but Pete had wanted more - typical man! Eventually they had parted, affectionately and regretfully - she reckoned that the bastard had chosen Valentine's Day to get out of paying for a meal!
Faith had decided to mark this one-year anniversary of their break-up by wearing the knee-length black leather skirt which Pete had bought her for her birthday whilst they were still together - she had thought it too racy at the time, but tonight she was going to wear it in his honour as she celebrated her freedom, matched with a simple white shirt. The material of her skirt felt completely different against her skin, caressing the tops of her thighs in a way that her Dress Blues or Dress Whites never did. The casual clothes were a complete contrast to the uniforms which she and the other JAGs had worn the previous evening, when they had first visited this bar straight from work for the "Wednesday wind-down" at the end of the middle day of the course.
Returning from the powder room, Faith watched the server approach her team's table with a tray of drinks and she realised that she had missed the next round of drinks, so she diverted to the bar to order what she had intended to be a soft drink.
Standing stiffly at the bar (a difficult task in her unfamiliar 3" spiked heels), Faith noticed the charming dark-haired gentleman seated at the bar to her right, finishing off a burger as he leaned over his plate. He lifted a wine glass from the four clean glasses on the bar in front of him, carefully (and obviously soberly) topped up his glass from a nearly-full bottle; then he filled an unused glass and held the glass out to Faith with a winning smile.
She had a vague recollection that this guy had been propping up the bar last night as well.
"Madam, I promise that I won't bite but" he looked down at his wedding ring "I would welcome intelligent female company, even for five minutes, before I head back to my hotel room to update my wife back in England on how my 45th consecutive day in America has gone. I must say, it is quite cold here in February - I've been coming across here in May for the past eight years or so in connection with my endocrinology business."
"My reason for intruding into your particular personal space is that you could also, perhaps, please help me with what to look for as I purchase a leather skirt for Her Ladyship as a present from my travels or, of course, you could tell me to mind my own business" he added as he glanced admiringly at Faith's legs.
The man smiled once more and Faith could feel her reserve and resolve melting away. Who could resist that lovely smile and that delicious English accent - even the leading buttoned-down female member of the USN JAG Corps wasn't immune, was she? And it was the one-year anniversary of her transition back to solo status and he was married so she felt safe and...
Against her better judgement, Faith picked up the proffered glass and took her first sip. The elderflower aroma was refreshing. He noticed her raised eyebrows and commented: "Yes, one of your Californian Sauvignons that my wife and I love to import into England - I sometimes think that we keep your Robert Mondavi vineyards in business. Some of your countrymen (and women of course) find the flavour a little overpowering but for me, with this meal..." (he gestured to the wreckage of a 'House Monster Burger' on the plate in front of him)… "I find it cuts through the grease of this dead cow and helps clear my palate".
He smiled and shrugged: "Well, it certainly did that with last night's burger anyway!" They both laughed at his joke.
He sighed and looked down at the plate once more, then looked into Faith's soul as he smiled: "Sadly it cannot restore my appetite for the lovely looking desserts, so I am destined to return another day to continue my research into the menu. What do you think, Madam?"
Swayed by his manners and the unusual British accent, Faith took another - larger - swig of the wine.
He was right, this was a big flavour - it flooded her palate, blotting out everything else with the strong elderflower notes. She smiled - and took a further mouthful as she relaxed her hips and leaned in to close the distance between her and the intriguing, married, Brit with the leather-loving wife back home...…
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** END of "Cigars, Bones, Babies and Jimmy Blackhorse" phase 12 - "Autopsy" and "Birthday" and "Victim 2002/1" (parts 20, 21 and 22)
