IX - FINGERPRINTS
Warrick and Sara were sitting in interview room one, laughing with Ray, when Greg stuck his head in the door.
"Grissom here?" he asked, smiling at them. "I've got some news for him on the prints he pulled from the last crime scene."
Warrick shook his head. "No - he went down to talk to Robbins. Hey Greg, how much influence do you have on the alt. rock scene?"
Greg stepped into the room, smiling. "Why?"
"We were laughing at some of the band names. Obviously - Meat Bullets." he grinned at Ray. "But 'Sex Combs Reduced' - that's definitely you."
Greg grinned. "You have to admit, some of those neat bug terms Grissom reams off sometimes are good names for alternative bands."
Sara laughed. "And Ray here was telling us you also came up with 'Let's Get Grumpy'? What's that all about?"
Greg shrugged. "I was pissed off at Grissom one day, and was complaining to one of the guys how grumpy he always was. He suggested we get him. We came up with dozens of scenarios for getting Grissom and making him say 'thank you' to me. We called it Operation: Let's Get Grumpy. When Dave and some friends formed a band, that's what they called themselves."
"Yeah, man. They rock out." Ray added. Warrick and Sara just looked at each other, and started laughing.
"Okay. I don't think I'll be able to look at Grissom for the rest of the day without snickering." Warrick's grin was ear to ear. "How do you know all these guys, Greg?"
Greg looked a little embarrassed. "Well, you know, I do have a life outside of CSI."
Ray smiled at Sara and Warrick. "Greg here's being too modest. He's an excellent drummer - at one point or another, he's played with all of us. If we could ever convince him to quit his job, he could get a full time gig as a session drummer or with one of the better bands in Nevada."
"You're a drummer?" Warrick looked amazed. "I never knew you were a musician!"
Greg shrugged. "That's because I'm a chemist. I just play for fun, but I wouldn't want to do it fulltime. Too much pressure!"
"And there's none here. This is such a worry-free job - no deadlines - no responsibilities -" Sara teased. "I have to say, I never suspected Greg. You're an International Man of Mystery."
Greg grinned. "Yep. Just like Austin Powers, I am both groovy and shagadelic! Catch up with me before you leave, Ray. I gotta go find Grissom."
* * * * *
Catherine was slowly working her way to the bottom of the papers in the second box they had dragged from Phillips office. She had tried to bury her conversation with Nick at the back of her mind, but every once in a while she would look at him and smile. He was a good guy, and he'd given her a lot to think about. Sighing, she pulled out a small stack of paper, rifling through the pages. An unopened letter was stuck between the pages.
Catherine pulled it out and looked at it. No return address. Gingerly, she opened it up and pulled out the single sheet of paper. "Nick - come take a look at this."
Nick slid his chair towards her, the legs of it scratching against the marble flooring. "'You are a dead man, Phillips. You wouldn't know real musical talent if it bit you on the ass. You CAN NOT HEAR musical genius when it is right in front of you. I DESERVE to win. RIVERS should not be the voice of K-ROX. You made a mistake when you turned me away.'"
He frowned as he quickly read the note, and then carefully picked up the envelope by the edges. "I can't make out the entire post mark, but it looks like it was mailed about 3 days before he was murdered. Let's see if we can blow this up, see where it was mailed from. And I'll dust it for prints. Maybe Greg can get a DNA sample from the stamp or backing, if the guy licked it."
"And we should see if there is any mail that's been received for Rivers or Waters at K-ROX in the last day or so. If a letter was sent to Phillips, maybe one was sent to them." Catherine looked at the letter again. "And we can now say with almost 100% certainty that someone involved in this Battle of the Bands is our main suspect."
"Gives the term 'frustrated musician' a whole new meaning." Nick sighed.
* * * * *
Grissom was just stepping out of Robbins office when Greg practically ran into him.
"Grissom! There you are. I've got news on the prints you pulled from the Waters crime scene."
Grissom snapped testily at Greg. "Why didn't you page me? You know I've been waiting for these."
Greg blinked at him. "I did page you. Several times. I thought I would come looking for you when you didn't respond." Greg tried to keep his voice even, but he was angry. Grissom could see it in the sudden tightening of the young man's face. Quickly patting his pockets and his belt, he realized he didn't have his pager on him. He must have left it in his office. Shit.
"Greg. I'm sorry. I'm just in a bad mood today. I - uhm - I don't have my pager with me. I shouldn't have snapped at you." He looked at Greg. "I apologize."
Greg looked at Grissom in shock. Grissom never apologized for anything. This was a first. He suddenly grinned. "Well, I'll let it pass this time Grissom, but only if you admit I'm the best lab tech you ever had."
Grissom cocked an eyebrow, unsure whether to be amused or angry. He smiled when he saw the teasing glint in Greg's eyes, before responding seriously. "You are the best lab tech I ever had Greg." He noticed Greg's obvious start of surprise, and he clapped the young man on the shoulder. "I might not tell you that enough - "
"Ever!" Greg interrupted.
"But you are. I expect a lot from you, and you always rise to meet the challenge. So, in case I don't get around to saying this again anytime soon, I appreciate the work you do around here, and I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions when I should know better. So tell me, what do you have?"
Greg was staring at Grissom, mouth agape. He blinked a couple of times before flashing Grissom a high-voltage grin. "The fingerprints you pulled along the hallway, and some of the ones on the floor around the body? They were plants."
"Plants? What do you mean." Grissom was suddenly intrigued.
"From the pictures I've matched the prints to; they weren't lining up where they should have. For example, where I would expect the prints to run thumb, forefinger, middle finger, etc., they ran forefinger, pinky, thumb, ring finger. There's no way someone could leave prints like that without contorting their hand in an impossible manner." Greg grinned. "So, I ran the prints that didn't fall in any type of proper order, and found a match. Our guy used Rivers' fingertips to leave them. The ones he chopped off when he killed Rivers."
Grissom smiled, and clapped Greg on the shoulder for the second time that night. "Nice work, Greg. Really nice."
_______
Author's note: Thanks for the reviews - I really appreciate them! This story is starting to get really interesting - at least for me. There are some fun chapters coming up, I'll try to post them as quickly as possible, so keep looking for them - and keep reviewing! Thanks!
Warrick and Sara were sitting in interview room one, laughing with Ray, when Greg stuck his head in the door.
"Grissom here?" he asked, smiling at them. "I've got some news for him on the prints he pulled from the last crime scene."
Warrick shook his head. "No - he went down to talk to Robbins. Hey Greg, how much influence do you have on the alt. rock scene?"
Greg stepped into the room, smiling. "Why?"
"We were laughing at some of the band names. Obviously - Meat Bullets." he grinned at Ray. "But 'Sex Combs Reduced' - that's definitely you."
Greg grinned. "You have to admit, some of those neat bug terms Grissom reams off sometimes are good names for alternative bands."
Sara laughed. "And Ray here was telling us you also came up with 'Let's Get Grumpy'? What's that all about?"
Greg shrugged. "I was pissed off at Grissom one day, and was complaining to one of the guys how grumpy he always was. He suggested we get him. We came up with dozens of scenarios for getting Grissom and making him say 'thank you' to me. We called it Operation: Let's Get Grumpy. When Dave and some friends formed a band, that's what they called themselves."
"Yeah, man. They rock out." Ray added. Warrick and Sara just looked at each other, and started laughing.
"Okay. I don't think I'll be able to look at Grissom for the rest of the day without snickering." Warrick's grin was ear to ear. "How do you know all these guys, Greg?"
Greg looked a little embarrassed. "Well, you know, I do have a life outside of CSI."
Ray smiled at Sara and Warrick. "Greg here's being too modest. He's an excellent drummer - at one point or another, he's played with all of us. If we could ever convince him to quit his job, he could get a full time gig as a session drummer or with one of the better bands in Nevada."
"You're a drummer?" Warrick looked amazed. "I never knew you were a musician!"
Greg shrugged. "That's because I'm a chemist. I just play for fun, but I wouldn't want to do it fulltime. Too much pressure!"
"And there's none here. This is such a worry-free job - no deadlines - no responsibilities -" Sara teased. "I have to say, I never suspected Greg. You're an International Man of Mystery."
Greg grinned. "Yep. Just like Austin Powers, I am both groovy and shagadelic! Catch up with me before you leave, Ray. I gotta go find Grissom."
* * * * *
Catherine was slowly working her way to the bottom of the papers in the second box they had dragged from Phillips office. She had tried to bury her conversation with Nick at the back of her mind, but every once in a while she would look at him and smile. He was a good guy, and he'd given her a lot to think about. Sighing, she pulled out a small stack of paper, rifling through the pages. An unopened letter was stuck between the pages.
Catherine pulled it out and looked at it. No return address. Gingerly, she opened it up and pulled out the single sheet of paper. "Nick - come take a look at this."
Nick slid his chair towards her, the legs of it scratching against the marble flooring. "'You are a dead man, Phillips. You wouldn't know real musical talent if it bit you on the ass. You CAN NOT HEAR musical genius when it is right in front of you. I DESERVE to win. RIVERS should not be the voice of K-ROX. You made a mistake when you turned me away.'"
He frowned as he quickly read the note, and then carefully picked up the envelope by the edges. "I can't make out the entire post mark, but it looks like it was mailed about 3 days before he was murdered. Let's see if we can blow this up, see where it was mailed from. And I'll dust it for prints. Maybe Greg can get a DNA sample from the stamp or backing, if the guy licked it."
"And we should see if there is any mail that's been received for Rivers or Waters at K-ROX in the last day or so. If a letter was sent to Phillips, maybe one was sent to them." Catherine looked at the letter again. "And we can now say with almost 100% certainty that someone involved in this Battle of the Bands is our main suspect."
"Gives the term 'frustrated musician' a whole new meaning." Nick sighed.
* * * * *
Grissom was just stepping out of Robbins office when Greg practically ran into him.
"Grissom! There you are. I've got news on the prints you pulled from the Waters crime scene."
Grissom snapped testily at Greg. "Why didn't you page me? You know I've been waiting for these."
Greg blinked at him. "I did page you. Several times. I thought I would come looking for you when you didn't respond." Greg tried to keep his voice even, but he was angry. Grissom could see it in the sudden tightening of the young man's face. Quickly patting his pockets and his belt, he realized he didn't have his pager on him. He must have left it in his office. Shit.
"Greg. I'm sorry. I'm just in a bad mood today. I - uhm - I don't have my pager with me. I shouldn't have snapped at you." He looked at Greg. "I apologize."
Greg looked at Grissom in shock. Grissom never apologized for anything. This was a first. He suddenly grinned. "Well, I'll let it pass this time Grissom, but only if you admit I'm the best lab tech you ever had."
Grissom cocked an eyebrow, unsure whether to be amused or angry. He smiled when he saw the teasing glint in Greg's eyes, before responding seriously. "You are the best lab tech I ever had Greg." He noticed Greg's obvious start of surprise, and he clapped the young man on the shoulder. "I might not tell you that enough - "
"Ever!" Greg interrupted.
"But you are. I expect a lot from you, and you always rise to meet the challenge. So, in case I don't get around to saying this again anytime soon, I appreciate the work you do around here, and I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions when I should know better. So tell me, what do you have?"
Greg was staring at Grissom, mouth agape. He blinked a couple of times before flashing Grissom a high-voltage grin. "The fingerprints you pulled along the hallway, and some of the ones on the floor around the body? They were plants."
"Plants? What do you mean." Grissom was suddenly intrigued.
"From the pictures I've matched the prints to; they weren't lining up where they should have. For example, where I would expect the prints to run thumb, forefinger, middle finger, etc., they ran forefinger, pinky, thumb, ring finger. There's no way someone could leave prints like that without contorting their hand in an impossible manner." Greg grinned. "So, I ran the prints that didn't fall in any type of proper order, and found a match. Our guy used Rivers' fingertips to leave them. The ones he chopped off when he killed Rivers."
Grissom smiled, and clapped Greg on the shoulder for the second time that night. "Nice work, Greg. Really nice."
_______
Author's note: Thanks for the reviews - I really appreciate them! This story is starting to get really interesting - at least for me. There are some fun chapters coming up, I'll try to post them as quickly as possible, so keep looking for them - and keep reviewing! Thanks!