Disclaimer: I owe nothing related to CSI. As a reminder, because there was a lapse between posting, this chapter picks up after Connor Headley informs detectives and CSIs that Colton Chapman has canceled the documentary.
CHAPTER 45
"What hell do you mean he canceled the project?" Connor Headley's comment had angered Nick, whose patience had reached a boiling point.
While he didn't seem comfortable with Nick's reaction to the fact that Colton Chapman had canceled the documentary, Headley remained calm. "Mr. Stokes, it truly is not an unusual thing for a documentary to be put on hold or even canceled indefinitely. It has happened many times with projects with which I have worked. Monies dry up or contracts with producers or program affiliates fall through. It is not an unusual thing in my business."
"When did Chapman tell you that the project was canceled?"
Headley thought to himself before answering. "Four days ago. The afternoon after I left a message for Mr. Grissom."
Nick and Moreno traded glances at the convenient timing of the cancellation. "So this guy calls you to cancel the project. What was his reason to do that?"
"He did not call me. Mr. Chapman sent his regards via email," Headley said. "And he didn't supply a reason, nor is it my business to question him."
"OK, Mr. Headley, here's what we're going to do," Moreno said. "We're going to need all the documentation you have about this project. We need contact information for every person you have been involved with in this project. We need all email documentation, copies of interviews and a log of phone conversations with people involved in this project, including Mr. Grissom."
Headley's chest visibly rose and fell with every measured breath he took. "I am more than willing to help in any way I can, as long as I do not encroach on any privacy protocols. But I still do not understand why any documentation that has my fingerprints upon it will help your investigation of a man I have never met."
"Mr. Headley," Moreno started, "according to all our investigations you were the last person in contact with Mr. Grissom before he became missing."
Headley bit the inside of his cheek. "Our conversation was a minute long. I hardly think that is enough reason to warrant suspicion upon me."
"Not to mention we found a note at Grissom's house with directions to Sunrise," Nick said. "Would you take the 502 into Sunrise to get to that 'retreat' of yours?"
"I never mentioned where my retreat is located, Mr. Stokes."
"No, you didn't," Moreno agreed. "And we're going to need that address as well."
Headley looked introspective, then yielded. "Very well," Headley said. "But my emails and correspondence are all the office. If you wish, I could offer you a call log right not from my memory. However, I would need a pad of paper and perhaps a day planner with a current calendar."
"I'll be back with a pad of paper and a calendar in a few minutes so you can do just that, Mr. Headley," Moreno said. "But it's critical we get copies of those interviews you did for the documentary."
"The interviews belong to Mr. Chapman, and have since been sent back to him," Headley blurted out. "His permission must be secured before you are able to hear and view the interviews. As you are probably aware, he paid for those interviews and they are his property, not mine or that of Evaluation and Management Research and Psychological Services. Therefore, it is a privacy and proprietary issue."
"And that is why we need his contact information as well," Moreno asserted as he stood up to leave. "Securing permission won't be a problem, Mr. Headley."
Nick stood up as well, but before they left Headley spoke up. "If you would Detective and Mr. Stokes, please let Ms. Sidle know I do hope she finds her husband soon and safe."
Both men stood at the door silent, but they subconsciously wondered what the woman on the other side of the glass was thinking about that comment.
Sara's face didn't express much outwardly, but inside she felt her stomach do flip flops. She didn't move from her place as Moreno and Nick exited the room, but Brass and Greg turned around to speak with them.
"We'll check out his home away from home immediately," Moreno said. "And follow him to his residence and see if he goes straight to work, along with interviewing those other two guys on the project."
"We should get the emails immediately and make sure everything is legitimate on that end," Greg said. "If he's been in contact with the documentarian via email, we need to make sure it came from a valid source."
"Or if he just made the damn thing up himself," Nick added.
"Another reason to get in touch with that guy right away," Greg added.
"I already left him a message."
Sara uttered her statement without taking her eyes off of Headley on the other side of the glass. "I asked Chapman to contact either Moreno, at LVPD, or DB at the lab. Chapman's based in New Orleans. I just hope you hear from him soon." Sara turned around to look at the four men around her. "I knew better than to leave my information. But I would hope if there is a call, someone would let me know."
"We'll keep you informed. I'm sure the same's true on Russell's end, too," Moreno said, before he turned to leave for his office.
Sara returned her attention back toward the window where she watched Headley for a moment. "We should get him on a computer now so he can access his email box if he his company allows for remote email access. We shouldn't wait till he goes to his office in the morning."
"We can address that with Headley when Carlos gets back," Nick said.
"And the guy he said he went to the prison with… Philip Beck," Sara continued. "He sounds like he is probably local. He shouldn't be a problem especially if he got credentials to get into prison. Maybe we can take a crack at him tonight."
There was a beat of silence, but Greg knew someone had to speak up. It might as well be him. "Sara, you need to get some rest. You've got a shift tonight. We'll work on this. Let one of us take you home."
"Greg…"
"Unless you told DB you need the time off."
"No, I didn't," Sara said curtly.
"OK, that's good," Greg cut in discreetly. "That means you'll be able to cover the regular cases while we focus on Grissom's disappearance. You know you have to be hands off, but if you're working the other cases, that gives us a lot more freedom to move forward. And Moreno's right, Sara, you're not going to be left in the dark. Not by us."
Sara took a deep breath and worked to keep her composure. "I know, Greg. You're right. But that doesn't mean I have to go home. It's not like I can relax there."
"Then crash at my place," Greg said. "We… Grissom needs you rested and focused. How 'bout it?"
Sara just turned back toward the window. Greg came behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. "I have fruit, coffee, junk food… Please trust us on this one."
Trust. If she carried an ounce of trust in her husband, things might have been different in the airport.
How could one week seem like a lifetime ago?
She turned away from the window. "Give me your house key."
Greg gave it to her with a soft smile, nodding his thanks to her.
She looked at Headley one last time before she went to leave. "Good luck guys. Keep me posted."
Sara passed by Moreno's office and saw him just offering a greeting on his phone. She stopped to at least wave goodbye, but when he saw her out of the corner of his eye, he gestured for her to come in. He put his hand over the receiver and said, "You'll want to hear this. Close the door."
With a look of worry and curiosity, Sara closed the door and sat down in the chair in front of his desk. Moreno put the call on speaker and said to the person on the other line, "Can you hear me?"
"Why yes, I can," replied a deep voice.
"I have CSI Sara Sidle from the Las Vegas Crime Lab on the phone with us, Mr. Chapman." Moreno looked at Sara and nodded for her to introduce herself.
Sara leaned into the desk. "Mr. Chapman I called you earlier today. Thank you for responding."
"My pleasure. Felt like I needed to call. Mon Dieu. You made it sound like it twas important, so I called ya'll back as soon as I possibly could."
Hearing the thick, almost cartoonish accent made Moreno raise his eyebrow, but it didn't seem to phase Sara one bit. Along with researching contact information for Colton Chapman at Hardline Productions, she also found a clip of him on youtube where he spoke about an environmental documentary concerning his home state of Louisiana, which he completed four years ago. To say his accent is thick is an understatement; one could almost hear a gator moving through the still waters of the bayou as he spoke.
"Well, we appreciate the cooperation, Mr. Chapman," Moreno said. "We are seeking information about a recent project you contracted with Connor Headley and Evaluation and Management Research and Psychological Services in Sunrise, Nevada."
"Dat be another reason I call you back, mon amie," Chapman said. "Damn curious. I ain't had no dealin's with Conner in sumptin like a coon's age. 'Bout a year, I spect."
That comment caught both Sara and Moreno off guard. "Mr. Chapman, Connor Headley said you had called him …" Moreno looked at his notes from the interview, but Sara flashed nine fingers at him. ".. that you had called him about nine weeks ago about a project surrounding survivors of serial killers. And since that time you and he had been in contact about that project."
"No siree, I ain't never heard nothing like dat before," Chapman said. "That ain't no subject I'd been speakin' with Conner. Last time we spoke, it'd been over a year and that was concerning sumptin else entirely."
"You have any idea why he would say you contacted him, if you had not?"
"I shonuff can't answer dat but I can tell you dat don't sound like da Conner Headley I know," Chapman said. "He ain't no wacko who makes up fairy tales and dat kinda nonsense."
"But he still contends you contracted him for this project," Moreno pushed. "And he's been working on it extensively for several weeks now."
"Nah, don't sound like him atall." Chapman said. "I've been working on a project out where I was born — Milton, Louisiana. Don't be havin' much of a need for research out in Nevada."
Moreno jotted down the information. "Well, again, thank you for your response, Mr. Chapman. We're going to need contact information from you in case we have any further questions, if you don't mind."
"Shonuff," Chapman said before giving them his information and offering his farewell. After they hung up, Moreno surveyed Sara's reaction. She kept quiet during the interview, per her agreement to keep at an arm's length of the investigation, but she seemed especially introspective. "Come on, Sara," Moreno said. "Let's get back to Headley."
Sara absently nodded her head as she bit her lip. She got up and followed Moreno out his office door. She stayed quiet as she followed him to the interview room. When she and the detective reached Brass, Nick and Greg, she let Moreno tell them the turn in events.
"Son of a bitch," Nick said. "He made the whole thing up?"
"Or someone else did," Sara said. "When Moreno asked why Connor would say he got contract work from him, Chapman said it didn't sound like something Headley would do."
"Now's as good a time as any to find out," Moreno said, as he entered the interview room with Nick following him.
Nick sat down in the familiar seat. Although Headley offered him a pleasant look, Nick did not reciprocate. Moreno placed the a pad, a pen and a calendar in front of Headley and continued standing. "Thank you, Detective. I will have this list complete for you shortly."
"Tell me something, Headley, what did you think about Marshall Landry?"
Headley looked up. "I'm sorry, Detective. I'm not sure I understand your question."
Moreno shrugged his shoulders. "What did you think about him?"
Headley returned his attention to his notes. "I didn't think anything about him, Detective. My role as a researcher is simply to gather information."
"Information," Nick repeated. "I'm sure Landry was chock full of interesting information."
"I suppose one could classify it as interesting."
"Well, how would you classify it?"
Headley looked straight into Nick's eyes. "For the record, Mr. Stokes, I do my job professionally and I do not let personal feelings intrude on my research. But if you are asking if I enjoyed talking with Mr. Landry, I would say unequivocally I did not."
"You sure about that?" Nick asked. "I mean, you did go see him again. There must have been a lot of things you could learn from Landry for your own personal research, right?"
For the first time, Headley showed frustration. "Mr. Stokes, I do not appreciate the insinuation of your comment."
But before Nick could respond, Moreno spoke up. "I just had a conversation with Colton Chapman."
Headley's head turned to face the detective. Everyone in the room and outside the room silently gauged Headley's reaction. But instead of becoming more frustrated, the man seemed to calm down a bit. "How is Mr. Chapman?"
"He said he hasn't talked to you in a year, Mr. Headley," Moreno answered. "You want to explain that?"
This time Headley's face revealed confusion. "I don't understand. Mr. Chapman and I spoke some nine weeks ago…" Headley's voice faded away as he thumbed through the calendar Moreno brought in. He found the spot he and seemed to do some mental math. "Yes, it was 65 days ago when he called me at my office."
"And he said he didn't," Nick barked. "So who do you think we should believe, Headley? You or him?"
"I don't understand," Headley said, as he shook his head and scratched his arm.
"Yeah, we know the feeling," Nick said sarcastically.
Headley continued to bite the inside of his lip and scratch his arm. The room stayed quiet for two or three minutes, until Nick felt the need to break the silence. "Come on, Headley. We need an explanation."
With a look of sadness and resignation, Headley took a deep breath. "Perhaps you should believe us both."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Mr. Stokes. Detective. I assure you both I did receive a call from someone who claimed to be Colton Chapman. His voice is quite distinctive, as you probably witnessed for yourself while on the phone with him. While he does works all over the United States, he is originally from a small town in Louisiana. A place originally settled by the Acadians. As such, he, much like you Mr. Stokes, wears his accent like a comfortable coat," Headley said, his train of thought uncharacteristically meandering. "Because of the speaker's cadence and thick accent, I assumed the man I spoke with 65 days ago to be Mr. Chapman. And as further evidence that I was indeed speaking with the Colton Chapman, we spoke about the last project in which I offered service. And, yes, that was indeed a year ago."
Headley paused for a moment and sat reflective for what seemed like a minute. "I don't understand why Mr. Chapman would say we never spoke." Headley's voice was distant and disappointed. "Unless... it wasn't Mr. Chapman."
The statement didn't sit well with any of men in the room, or the three people standing outside the two-way window. "This guy's making no sense," Greg said. "What would be the purpose of someone calling him acting like Chapman to get research on a documentary that doesn't exist?"
"The better question is what the hell does that have to do with Grissom?" Brass added. "I want to see where Moreno goes with this."
Brass entered the room and gave a glance to Moreno, who wordlessly let the captain know he was welcome to question Headley. It was an invitation Brass seized. "Headley, my name is Capt. Jim Brass with the Las Vegas Police Department. I've been monitoring this interview and I got to tell you, Headley, you're not doing well for yourself."
Headley took a deep breath. "Captain, I believe there has been a misunderstanding about whether I am in any way involved with the disappearance of Mr. Grissom."
"You said you were at the office when you say Chapman called you," Brass said, gaining a nod from Headley. "Where was he calling from?"
"If you are you asking what number he called me from, I don't exactly know, as I don't have caller ID on my office phone..."
"What we need is for you to give us concrete information here. You were the last person who spoke to Gil Grissom and you were trying to get an interview with him for a documentary that doesn't exist," Brass said. "Right now, you are looking like the prime suspect in his disappearance. For your sake, I suggest you give us information that helps us find him."
To Sara's observative eye, Headley looked both reflective and nervous. "If I remember correctly," Headley's speech slowed down considerably, "I believe he was calling from a cellular phone; he told me he was working in the field on another project. The conversation was brief, but Mr. Chapman… well, the man who I assumed was Mr. Chapman… outlined exactly what he hoped to achieve with research. He told me to email him some of my recommendations and needs, along with any questions I had."
"And we expect you to share all those emails to and from Chapman, go it Headley?" Nick added.
"I understand, Mr. Stokes," Headley replied. "I will retrieve them from the office tomorrow."
"Or you could do it now," Moreno said.
"If you are referring to the use of remote email access, I'm afraid our research facility does not allow for that," Headley said, his nerves obviously frayed. "Gentlemen, I find this new information quite disturbing. I would like to go home, and I assume since I do believe I am not charged with any crime, I am free to go at any time. I would like to take that opportunity now."
"Well, then I guess we will see bright and early tomorrow morning, Mr. Headley," Moreno said.
"You are welcome to come to my office to retrieve the necessary items."
"Tell you what," Moreno said, "we'll meet you at your place and follow you in."
Headley stood up and could no longer make eye contact with either man. He looked defeated. "I understand. Then I will see you in the morning."
He left the room, with his eyes glued to the floor.
tbc
A/N: I apologize for the delay. Wanted to get this right. Feedback is always appreciated. Special thanks to Chauncey, especially in helping with some cajun speech. Just as a clarification... The phrase "a coon's age" is not to be taken in any way as racist. The expression, when used as meaning a long time has past, dates to the early 1800s in the deep south (Acadians are the original cajuns). It's origin comes from the observation that raccoons seemed to have long lives. Hence the term "a coon's age" meaning that a long time had past.
And thanks to Sylvie for giving this a lookover. :-)
