Title: Family - chapter 3 - Discovery

By: CSI-Sleuth

Rating: G

Summary: Grissom's first day in DC abounds in discovery. Discovery of memories, identities, information and even more questions.

Authors Note: The characters aren't mine. I'm just borrowing them for a little creative diversion. Thanks to those of you who write CSI Fan Fic, Bravo! Keep it up. You inspire and entertain me. Feedback is encouraged and appreciated.

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It was quickly apparent Quinn was not going to help Grissom with his data collection. When Grissom looked up to see how Quinn would react to his question, the man's eyes were still closed. He'd met all kinds in his work, but Quinn was something else entirely. There was just something about the man. Grissom knew he was holding something back. He glanced around the plane and realized there was no one else in the cabin. Since he obviously wouldn't be talking to Quinn, he might as well get some sleep. Who knew what the day might bring.

Grissom settled into his seat for the flight and tried to sleep but there were too many thoughts running through his head. Usually he could turn off his work like a switch and go right to sleep. The uncertainty of his work demanded that he be able to recharge whenever the opportunity arose. This was different though. This wasn't just another case. This was his father.

He had so few memories of him. No five-year-old expected someone to leave so abruptly. He just wasn't equipped at that age to understand and file away the memories. He'd seen enough children traumatized in his job that he was thankful the memories of youth didn't always leave a permanent impression. Just today, he wished they had. His mother had taken down all the photographs and never again mentioned his father's name. Like he never existed. Gil never knew why he left, where he went or if he'd ever come back. It was just before he went to his first day of school. He and his dad had spent summer days at the beach collecting sand crabs. They'd even gone out one night at midnight, way past his bedtime, to watch the grunion run. Everything had changed that day when his mom called him home from Jimmy's house. "Gil! Gil!"

"Gil. Wake up. We're here."

If the seatbelt hadn't been fastened Gil would've jumped out of his seat. Quinn was shaking his shoulder trying to wake him up. Grissom looked up at him and quickly remembered where he was and why. He wasn't five. He wasn't at Jimmy's. But yes, his dad had left. Maybe now all those unanswered questions could be laid to rest.

Gil gathered his bags and followed Quinn down the stairs to the waiting car. He was glad he had his coat. It may have been spring, but the 11:00 am April air in DC was still cooler than the early morning air of Vegas. During the 45 minutes it took to get from Andrews AFB to CIA Headquarters in Langley, Virginia Quinn never said a word.

They walked in the doors of the impressive front lobby. While Quinn took care of Grissom's security badge Gil looked around. His eyes rested on a quote etched into the marble walls, "And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free." Closure maybe, peace of mind, but free? Grissom didn't think so.

Quinn led Grissom through the maze of hallways to the science labs. Grissom silently observed the people, the equipment, the quiet. They walked into a lab that looked remarkably similar to his own. A woman was seated at a raised table reading a file. She stood as they approached.

Quinn offered, "Gil Grissom, meet Dr. Kay Scarpetta."

"It's a pleasure to meet you. Your reputation precedes you."

"As does yours Mr. Grissom."

"Please, call me Gil."

Kay nodded her head and simply said, "Gil."

Before leaving the room, Quinn added, "Looks like you two can handle things. I'll be in my office if you need anything. Gil, come see me at 4."

"Sure." Gil replied and then got right to work. As he approached the table and the open file he asked, "So how'd you id him?"

"Believe it or not, as secret as they are, the CIA does keep prints of their agents. It took some digging and security clearances, but we finally got a match." Kay slid the file over in front of Gil and said, "George Washington Grissom."

Grissom paused for just a moment. Until now, Quinn had only referred to his father generically. He vaguely remembered calling him father or dad as a child. He couldn't remember ever hearing anyone say his father's full name out loud. Slowly he reached for the file.

On top of the open file was a fingerprint card and underneath it some microscope slides. Kay noticed his discomfort and looked away for a brief moment. It couldn't be easy reviewing the case file of a family member.

Grissom picked up the card and silently slipped it into his pocket while at the same time pulling out the first of the slides and putting it under the microscope. The easiest way to handle this was to just think of it as another case. "So these are the parasites you found?"

Kay returned her attention to Grissom, "Yes, Taenia solium, the pork tapeworm."

Grissom lifted his head from the microscope and looked at Kay, "Cysticercosis? Did you find any lesions on the brain?"

"We didn't get the chance. As soon as ID came in we got a call from CIA saying they were taking over the case. We closed up the body and had it transported here. What are you thinking?"

"Tapeworm larvae form cysticerci. It's not uncommon for the cysts to be found in the brain causing neurocysticercosis. Symptoms present as seizures, headaches, confusion, difficulty balancing." Grissom returned his attention to the slides.

"You do know about bugs."

"Some."

"So if there are lesions on his brain then maybe"

Grissom interrupted with, "he wasn't murdered." He looked up at Kay, "He still may have been pushed into the water, but just as likely he got disoriented and fell."

"That might be a little hard to prove. We still haven't figured out where he went into the water let alone which ship might be involved."

Grissom smiled just a little. "Do you know if they have a simulation tank here? Based on his skin discoloration you determined he was in the water for just a few hours, right? If we can get the weather and tidal information for that night we might just be able to figure out where he went into the water." Grissom held up the x-rays from the file. "Judging from the broken ribs and leg, he fell quite a ways. We can probably rule out a pier. A ship sounds about right. With shipping information we should be able to pin point the ship involved."

Kay just shook her head; "I forgot you do this for a living. So often when I'm asked to talk to the family of the victim they don't know what I'm talking about or what questions to ask." She paused a moment, "You know, even if we do figure out which ship is involved, it's probably long gone. We may not be able to answer whether it was murder or an accident."

"Maybe, maybe not. But, I don't like holes. We have to fill them somehow."

They spent the next hour going over the contents of the file, reviewing the slides, x-rays and notes, each of them writing down what still needed to be done and which questions remained unanswered. The autopsy room was next door to the lab. While they were reviewing the file, Quinn had the body delivered. Together they went next door to start their work.

Kay was just behind Grissom when he stopped at the door. He was trying to remind himself this was just another case, but it wasn't, was it? This time the body on the table belonged to his father. A man he barely knew, but he was still family. But for all he knew of him, he might as well be a stranger. Gil took a deep breath and stepped into the room and up to the table. He pulled the sheet back and looked at a face that resembled his own, just older. "So that's what I'll look like when I'm 70?" he thought. He reached out with his left hand and gently touched the curly gray hair. "Why?" It was just a whisper but the years of unanswered questions could be heard in just one word. He was on the verge of anger and tears when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Gil."

A sigh escaped his lips, "Thanks Kay." After a brief pause he straightened up, turned to Kay and said, "Let's get to work, shall we?"

They spent the next several hours collecting the evidence she hadn't been able to gather in her own lab. They worked quietly, classical music playing softly in the background. When the last sample had been taken Kay looked up, "Gil, thanks for the help. I'll go next door and get started. Didn't Quinn say he wanted to see you at 4?"

Gil looked at his watch, it was five minutes to 4. "Yeah, he did. Meet back here tomorrow morning?"

"Sure. I should have most of this processed and we can try to fill your holes."

Gil smiled and left the room to find Quinn.

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Grissom was in Quinn's office, but there was no Quinn. The office certainly said something about the man. Very sparse, not a thing out of place and dark.

"Did you find what you're looking for?" Quinn asked from behind Grissom.

Grissom turned and looked at Quinn, "Sorry?"

"Did the body speak to you?" Quinn clarified.

"Some. We're going to go over everything in the morning. We found some answers but we have even more questions."

"You'll let me know what you find then?" Quinn pressed.

"We'll keep you posted," replied Grissom. Grissom thought this guy was beginning to sound a bit like the Sheriff.

"Well then I guess it's time to visit the vaults."

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As they walked through the labyrinth of hallways, elevators and access controlled doors they didn't stop to talk to anyone. Several people approached Quinn but he just waved them off. Grissom continued to think something very strange was going on. They finally found their way to a sub- basement with two guards in front of a vault door. Quinn signed a logbook and showed his authorization. As the guards entered the vault, Grissom noticed it looked a lot like a safe deposit vault at his local bank. Row upon row of small silver doors requiring two keys, one from each guard. The guards found the door Quinn signed for, opened it, and removed a long, shallow silver box. They were about to close the door when Quinn quickly opened the box, removed the contents and returned the empty box to the guards. Before the guards could complete their process Quinn had turned away and was leading Grissom back out the way they came.

Instead of going back to his office, Quinn escorted Grissom out one of the building exits to a waiting car. Only then did he hand over the items from the vault. "Before your father left China, he sent these items through another means. He wanted to make sure they arrived safely." Quinn looked to the car, "Roger will take you to your hotel. I suggest you take your time and go through these items very carefully. We can discuss things later."

Grissom reached out for the items and replied, "Thank you." Quinn just nodded and walked away leaving Grissom standing there. Roger had already opened the rear passenger door. Since there was to be no more conversation, Grissom got in and Roger shut the door. In moments they were leaving the grounds of the CIA.

Gil stared at the items in his hands. There were about a dozen envelopes, a small red leather bound book and a very old map of Los Angeles. He wasn't sure how far they were going and Gil didn't want the driver to see his reaction to the items so he waited. Less than half an hour later they pulled up to a side entrance of the Marriott Wardman Hotel in Washington DC. As Gil got out of the car, Roger handed him a plastic room key and instructed Gil on how to get to his room. He took the key as Roger informed him he'd be back at this very same entrance at 9:00 the next morning to take him back to CIA headquarters, until then he was on his own.

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Gil found the room without much effort. It was an understatement to call it a room. He walked in to find himself in what had all the appointments of an upscale two-bedroom suite. There was a large foyer with a baby grand piano just inside the front door. To the left were two doors leading to a large master bedroom and a second bedroom set up like an office. Beyond the foyer was a large living room with a big screen TV. To the right of the foyer was a dining room and a door that led to a fully functioning kitchen. A quick look in the frig revealed some bottled water and a six- pack of his favorite beer. He grabbed a beer and headed into the living room. He opened the drapes and marveled at the site before him. His room faced southeast. In the foreground he could see Rock Creek Park and in the distance the top of the Washington Monument pierced the sky. It was close to sunset and the sky was several shades between orange and purple. He'd been to Washington DC before, but he'd never had a view like this. The lights of this town were so different than those back home but beneath the lights the same games were played for wealth and power. The two towns weren't really all that different.

Grissom finally looked down at the items in his hand and decided it was time to face his father. He took a closer look at the small book and saw it was a very worn copy of "George Washington's Rules of Civility and Decent Behaviour in Company and Conversation." "I guess he really took his name to heart," Grissom said aloud to no one. He decided to begin with the envelopes. All but one has gone through the postal system. He took a closer look at the processed envelopes. Each one had the same return address in LA although the postmarks were from various places and they were all sent to the same address in London. He started with the envelope with the oldest postmark and worked his way forward. Each envelope held a single picture he'd never seen before. Very familiar places and times but never had he seen these images. They were of his high school and college graduation, the day he went to work for the county, his first day on the job in Las Vegas. Quinn was right; his dad had been keeping tabs on him. His dad hadn't been present, but somehow he was always there.

He opened the last envelope. The only one without a postmark or return address. In it was a piece of brown paper that had been folded and refolded many times. As he unfolded it a black and white photo dropped out. He picked the photo up off the floor and stared. He was looking at a younger version of himself with a small boy in front of a Ferris wheel. On the white border around the edge of the photo was written "G & G - Chase Park - August 19, 1961." As he stared at it he started to remember. It was just two days after his fifth birthday. A day he remembered so well because it meant he was old enough to go to school. He already had his library card and had been reading for about a year. He couldn't wait to go to school and learn. And his dad had got him his first bug book for his birthday. A small smile crept across his face.

The Saturday after his birthday there was a carnival at the park not far from their house. Just he and his dad went since his mom didn't like the rides. He closed his eyes and remembered, remembered. There were roller coasters and bumper cars and clowns. Booths were set up everywhere to try your luck to win a prize. His dad had handed his camera to someone to take a picture of them in front of the Ferris wheel. He opened his eyes, looked down at the photo, finished unfolding the paper, saw the paint and remembered.

On the outer edges of the carnival were more booths. People were selling all sorts of hand made items. There were tables set up where kids could decorate cookies, get their faces painted or make handprints. He followed his dad over to the handprint table. Even though he liked bugs, he remembered he didn't like to get his hands dirty. That hadn't changed. He still wore gloves at every crime scene and while working in the lab. His dad showed him how easy it was. "Just dip your hand in the paint like this", he remembered seeing his dad's hand in the blue paint, "and then put your hand on the paper like this." His dad placed his hand flat on the brown paper. When he lifted it up there was his dad's hand in blue paint. "Come here son, you try it." Gil had dipped his hand in yellow paint. His dad's hand was so big there was no more room on the paper and he couldn't find another piece. Paint was starting to drip everywhere. His dad gently took his hand and laid it flat against the paper in the middle of his blue handprint. "That wasn't so hard was it?" As he lifted Gil's hand he said, "See, now your hand will always be in mine."

His dad left about a week later. He didn't even get to see him go to his first day of school. And Gil never saw the handprint again. When his mom took down all the family pictures he figured the print ended up with them. He cocked his head to one side. Handprint. He stared at it a little closer now. Some of the paint had cracked, but he definitely saw fingerprints circa 1961. He pulled the print card from his pocket. He wasn't sure why he had taken it earlier, but it had seemed important. Without a lab at his disposal he couldn't tell if they matched. He looked through the magnifier he always carried with him. To the naked eye he couldn't be sure. He'd need some help.

The extra bedroom had everything a business traveler could need including a scanner fax machine on the dresser. He was about to use it when he stopped to think. He hadn't checked himself in at the hotel. The driver had given him the key and directions to the room. He was in DC visiting the CIA; it was a safe bet they'd be monitoring anything going on in the room. He looked at his watch. It was almost 9:00 pm. He hadn't realized he'd been looking at everything for so long. He carefully refolded the handprint and put it back in the envelope. The phone book was on the nightstand next to the bed. It took only a minute for him to find what he was looking for. He slipped the envelope and the fingerprint card into his pocket, grabbed his coat and walked out the door. In the lobby he talked briefly to the concierge and then headed out the front door to hail a cab.

A few minutes later he was in Georgetown. As they were driving west on M Street he had the cab pull over. After paying the driver, Grissom kept walking west for another block. He ducked into a Kinko's, pulled a copier counter from the rack and headed to a machine. First he needed a good copy of the handprint. He took the envelope out his pocket, removed the brown paper and carefully unfolded it. He placed it face down on the copier and hit 'Start.' It took about three tries before he got a properly exposed copy showing the ridge detail on the fingertips. Next he made a copy of the CIA fingerprint card.

On a table in the center of the copiers Grissom found a black marker. On the copy of the fingerprint card Gil carefully blotted out the name "George Washington Grissom." The fingerprint card only took up half of the page. He folded the paper in half and placed the bottom edge against the glass closest to him on the copier. Then he took the copy of the handprint and placed it on top, layering it so that the copy of the CIA print card covered the smaller print in the middle, his hand. He pressed 'Start.' The copy now showed both sets of his fathers prints on one piece of paper. He circled the fingerprints in the handprint and labeled them 'A' in the left margin. He did the same with the CIA prints labeling them 'B'. On a blank piece of paper he wrote out his note.

After collecting all his originals, botched copies and the final copy he removed the copy counter from the machine and headed to the cashier. He handed over two pages and asked that they be faxed to the number on the cover page. He waited for the fax to go through and to receive the fax confirmation page. He tucked everything into his jacket pocket and then went outside and started walking east, pulling out his cell phone as he did. He dialed and waited.

"Willows."

"Catherine, it's Gil."

"Hey, how the heck are you? Everything OK?"

"Yeah. Just wanted to check in and let you know I'd made it safely."

"Sara will be glad to hear that. She about freaked when she heard the CIA was involved."

"How'd she know that? I didn't even tell you."

"Warrick got it from reception."

"Figures. Listen, I'm expecting a fax on the machine in my office about a case I was working before I left. I needed some outside help with a match on some exotic plants. When you get in can you see if it's there, and then give me a call on my cell. OK?" He wasn't sure if the CIA would be tracking his cell phone, so he wasn't going to take any chances.

"No prob. I'm about to drop Lindsey off at my sisters. I should be there in a half hour or so."

"Don't rush. I'm heading to a sports bar in Georgetown for some dinner and baseball."

"That's right, the season finally started. Enjoy."

"Count on it."

Gil flipped the phone closed and looked up. Right in front of him on the corner of M and Wisconsin was Champions. As soon as he walked in he knew he'd have to thank the concierge. He found a seat at the bar. A quick look around and he could see at least a half a dozen ball games in progress. Heaven.

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Catherine walked into Grissom's office and headed straight to his fax machine. There were two pieces of paper in the collection tray.

"That's odd."

"What's odd?" Sara had seen Catherine walk past the break room and had followed her to Grissom's office.

Catherine was so surprised she dropped the pages. "Geez, Sara, you gotta make a little more noise when you sneak up on someone."

"Sorry. You hear from Grissom?"

"Yeah, he just called. Don't worry the CIA hasn't made him disappear yet." Catherine looked up at Sara just in time to see her face relax just a bit. "Look, I've got to see what's come in, take care of something and then I'll hand out assignments. See you in the break room in half hour?"

"Sure, I'll tell the guys." Sara walked back down the hall to find Nick and Warrick.

Catherine picked the pages up off the floor and read the handwritten note on the cover page from Gil:

Cath - scan these into our computer. Check if the A prints match the B prints. Don't run them through any db's yet. I don't want to raise any alarms. Call me when you're done. tks, G

Before heading down the hall to the print lab, Catherine looked up the call sheet on the computer and printed it out. Next she found Mandy in the print lab.

"Mandy, can you look at something for me real quick?" Catherine handed the faxed prints to Mandy. "I need to know if the two sets of prints on this page match. Don't run the prints through any of our databases. Just find me when you're done. Oh yeah, I need it yesterday." Catherine turned and walked out of the lab.

Mandy just shook her head as Catherine walked away. She refocused her attention on the faxed page in front of her and scanned the prints into the computer.

After handing out assignments, Catherine headed back to Grissom's office where Mandy was waiting for her. As Mandy walked away Catherine pulled out her cell phone and called Gil. Through the earpiece she heard a familiar voice raised a few decibels and an octave "No way that was a strike!" followed a moment later by a much calmer more normal "Grissom."

"I take it you and the ump aren't getting along?"

After Grissom took a drink of his beer he replied, "You could say that. I swear he's blind. Anything?"

"Well, the info came in on your exotic plants. The samples don't match."

"Really." It wasn't a question.

"Gil, you wanna tell me what's going on?"

"Not now. I'm still working on a few holes. I'll fill you in later. Hey, my boy Karros is up to bat. Gotta go."

Catherine just stared at her phone as the conversation was cut off.

Gil reached for his beer and silently considered the information he just received. Not a match. That raised two questions, just who was the dead guy at CIA headquarters and where was his father?

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to be continued.