V - PIG BLOOD
Doctor Robbins was not having a good night. He had fourteen bodies to examine, and eight of them were so badly charred the outer layers of skin would crumble like ash at the slightest touch. Catherine and Warrick had arrived back from their crime scene first, and Warrick had come down to speak with Robbins almost immediately.
"We're pulling dentals for identification." He said in lieu of greeting. "Have the bodies arrived yet?"
Robbins nodded grimly. "Yes they have. Since you're pulling dentals, I'll assume you caught the extra crispy case."
Warrick grunted in assent. "Yeah. Catherine's up in the lab, pushing Vincent to start running the blood swabs. Have you started the autopsies yet?"
"No. I was just getting there. I've called in a couple of the day shift coroners to help with the preliminaries. You looking for anything in particular from me?"
"Yeah. We have several blood samples that were retrieved from the crime scene - smeared on the walls. If possible, we need to know how many of our guys could be potential donors. I mean, it's obvious they were set on fire but we need to determine if there were other injuries, like stab wounds or gunshots. Also, accelerant used to light these guys. Blood samples, any clothing or fibers that didn't burn."
"The sun, the moon, the stars." Robbins tone was light, and he smiled. "It's a good thing you got back before Grissom."
Warrick cocked an eyebrow. "Why? What did he catch?"
"Six bodies." Robbins smiled grimly. "Of course, since you have eight, I guess that means you win."
* * * * *
"I think that's it for the blood swabs." Sara's voice was tired, and she shut her field kit softly, shaking her head. "Do you want me to take anymore photos, or can we get back to the lab?"
Grissom ignored her. Instead, he walked back over to the wall, studying the words intently. Sara sighed, and she brushed her hands against her jeans as she joined him.
"Grissom. What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking someone only read the Ten Commandments, but skipped the New Testament." His tone was contemplative, and he nodded at the wall. " 'Thou shalt have no other gods before me.' Fairly straight forward. But so is 'Love Your Neighbor as You Love Yourself.' You done with the swabs?"
Sara rolled her eyes. "Yes, Grissom."
"Well then, let's get back to the lab." Grissom picked up his field kit, and motioned for Sara to precede him. "Sara, how do you think Greg is doing? Emotionally?"
Sara quickly looked over her shoulder at him. "I think he's happy to be getting out of the hospital. But he still has his days, you know? He's trying really hard, but I think he's depressed. I can't get him to talk about it, and neither can Nick." Throwing their field kits in the back of the Tahoe, Sara ran a frustrated hand through her hair. "I'm worried about him, Grissom. He's cutting himself off."
Grissom sighed. "I've been thinking the same thing. But I don't know him as well as you do, so I wasn't sure."
"Well, one thing that doesn't help is the forced inactivity. I don't think it's good for him. Don't get me wrong, obviously he can't go out and run a marathon tomorrow but he's got nothing to do and it's driving him crazy. He has the whole entire day to think about his operation, the implant, whether he'll get clearance to drive again, if things will ever get back to normal for him - it's unrelenting. He needs something to take his mind off it for a while."
"I wonder if Dr. Mellows would clear him to come back for lab work only?" Grissom was talking more to himself than Sara, but she didn't mind. "If we kept an eye on him, made him rest at regular intervals - it might be good for him." He suddenly looked at Sara, eyes blazing. "What do you think?"
"Do you want this for Greg or for Catherine? I know she's on the verge of maiming Vincent." Sara's tone was teasing. Grissom smiled.
"I want this for Greg. But if it makes Catherine happy as well, who am I to complain. Besides, I don't blame her for wanting to hurt Vincent. He's no Greg in the lab."
* * * * *
Warrick was just leaving autopsy when Grissom came in. "Hey, Warrick. When did you guys get back?"
"About an hour ago." Warrick was holding several bags in his hand, the charred fibrous remains of clothing carefully labeled and separated into each one. "I was just heading up to the lab. Need to test for accelerants."
Grissom cocked an eyebrow. "Someone set your guy on fire?"
"Guys - plural. Eight vics, tied together and set ablaze in the middle of the dance floor. Robbins is still doing the autopsies. Heard you and Sara have six?"
Grissom nodded, grimly. "It doesn't rain, but it pours. Do you have any ideas?"
"Not really. We're thinking a hate crime, considering the club and a note that was left there a couple of days ago. The person who left it watches too many crime shows - he made up of letters and words from magazine and newspaper clippings and smeared blood all over the walls." Warrick's tone was resigned, but Grissom heard the underlying anger in it. He looked at Warrick a little more intently.
"You okay with this one?"
Warrick sighed and shrugged. "Yeah. It just pisses me off. Life is too short to be hating everyone. I put up with a lot of this shit growing up. Intolerance just bothers me." He looked at Grissom and smiled grimly. "I suppose you could say I have no tolerance for intolerant people."
Grissom smiled back in understanding. "Just as long as you don't run around killing them, I see no problem with that attitude."
* * * * *
"I knew I'd be seeing you sooner or later." Robbins greeted, as Grissom walked in. "I haven't looked at your bodies yet."
"I know. I ran into Warrick in the hallway." He walked over to one of the examining tables, his gaze probing as they traveled over the burnt body of the man upon it. "Anything interesting?"
Robbins shrugged. "The heat was pretty intense - these guys have all been cooked."
"Blood boil up?"
"In this guy, yeah. I'll be able to get type and stuff, but it's going to be dense as molasses."
Grissom grimace. "Nice image." He checked over some of the other bodies. "Warrick said there was blood all over the walls. It's hard to tell, but I don't see any noticeable wounds that would indicate they bled before being set on fire."
Robbins shrugged. "I haven't found anything yet, either, but I just started. But I honestly don't think the blood is from any of these guys."
* * * * *
"Pig's blood." Vincent handed Catherine the print out, his expression triumphant. "Not human."
"Hey Catherine." Warrick strode into the lab. "Doc got several clothing samples for us from the body."
"And we got pig blood on the walls." Catherine took the printout Vincent handed to her, and gave it to Warwick.
"Pig blood?" Warrick looked at the report, shaking his head. "So, whoever did this transported pigs' blood to the crime scene to splash on the walls. Who has access to pig blood?"
Catherine smiled at him. "Slaughter houses, butchers and farmers."
______
Author's Note: Thanks for you reviews and patience with me getting this case started. I'm having so much fun exploring the psyches of these characters; I sometimes forget I can't just write about thoughts and feelings. I really appreciate all the feedback! And I'm bringing Greg back to the lab for some *light* work. For one thing, I have way to much fun writing him - he's just captured my imagination lately - and for another, Vincent is too stupid to handle evidence from 14 murders. Hehehe. Next Chapter: Welcome Home Dinner, some more clues. And for those of you emailing me asking for more N/S and G/C, I'll work on it.
Doctor Robbins was not having a good night. He had fourteen bodies to examine, and eight of them were so badly charred the outer layers of skin would crumble like ash at the slightest touch. Catherine and Warrick had arrived back from their crime scene first, and Warrick had come down to speak with Robbins almost immediately.
"We're pulling dentals for identification." He said in lieu of greeting. "Have the bodies arrived yet?"
Robbins nodded grimly. "Yes they have. Since you're pulling dentals, I'll assume you caught the extra crispy case."
Warrick grunted in assent. "Yeah. Catherine's up in the lab, pushing Vincent to start running the blood swabs. Have you started the autopsies yet?"
"No. I was just getting there. I've called in a couple of the day shift coroners to help with the preliminaries. You looking for anything in particular from me?"
"Yeah. We have several blood samples that were retrieved from the crime scene - smeared on the walls. If possible, we need to know how many of our guys could be potential donors. I mean, it's obvious they were set on fire but we need to determine if there were other injuries, like stab wounds or gunshots. Also, accelerant used to light these guys. Blood samples, any clothing or fibers that didn't burn."
"The sun, the moon, the stars." Robbins tone was light, and he smiled. "It's a good thing you got back before Grissom."
Warrick cocked an eyebrow. "Why? What did he catch?"
"Six bodies." Robbins smiled grimly. "Of course, since you have eight, I guess that means you win."
* * * * *
"I think that's it for the blood swabs." Sara's voice was tired, and she shut her field kit softly, shaking her head. "Do you want me to take anymore photos, or can we get back to the lab?"
Grissom ignored her. Instead, he walked back over to the wall, studying the words intently. Sara sighed, and she brushed her hands against her jeans as she joined him.
"Grissom. What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking someone only read the Ten Commandments, but skipped the New Testament." His tone was contemplative, and he nodded at the wall. " 'Thou shalt have no other gods before me.' Fairly straight forward. But so is 'Love Your Neighbor as You Love Yourself.' You done with the swabs?"
Sara rolled her eyes. "Yes, Grissom."
"Well then, let's get back to the lab." Grissom picked up his field kit, and motioned for Sara to precede him. "Sara, how do you think Greg is doing? Emotionally?"
Sara quickly looked over her shoulder at him. "I think he's happy to be getting out of the hospital. But he still has his days, you know? He's trying really hard, but I think he's depressed. I can't get him to talk about it, and neither can Nick." Throwing their field kits in the back of the Tahoe, Sara ran a frustrated hand through her hair. "I'm worried about him, Grissom. He's cutting himself off."
Grissom sighed. "I've been thinking the same thing. But I don't know him as well as you do, so I wasn't sure."
"Well, one thing that doesn't help is the forced inactivity. I don't think it's good for him. Don't get me wrong, obviously he can't go out and run a marathon tomorrow but he's got nothing to do and it's driving him crazy. He has the whole entire day to think about his operation, the implant, whether he'll get clearance to drive again, if things will ever get back to normal for him - it's unrelenting. He needs something to take his mind off it for a while."
"I wonder if Dr. Mellows would clear him to come back for lab work only?" Grissom was talking more to himself than Sara, but she didn't mind. "If we kept an eye on him, made him rest at regular intervals - it might be good for him." He suddenly looked at Sara, eyes blazing. "What do you think?"
"Do you want this for Greg or for Catherine? I know she's on the verge of maiming Vincent." Sara's tone was teasing. Grissom smiled.
"I want this for Greg. But if it makes Catherine happy as well, who am I to complain. Besides, I don't blame her for wanting to hurt Vincent. He's no Greg in the lab."
* * * * *
Warrick was just leaving autopsy when Grissom came in. "Hey, Warrick. When did you guys get back?"
"About an hour ago." Warrick was holding several bags in his hand, the charred fibrous remains of clothing carefully labeled and separated into each one. "I was just heading up to the lab. Need to test for accelerants."
Grissom cocked an eyebrow. "Someone set your guy on fire?"
"Guys - plural. Eight vics, tied together and set ablaze in the middle of the dance floor. Robbins is still doing the autopsies. Heard you and Sara have six?"
Grissom nodded, grimly. "It doesn't rain, but it pours. Do you have any ideas?"
"Not really. We're thinking a hate crime, considering the club and a note that was left there a couple of days ago. The person who left it watches too many crime shows - he made up of letters and words from magazine and newspaper clippings and smeared blood all over the walls." Warrick's tone was resigned, but Grissom heard the underlying anger in it. He looked at Warrick a little more intently.
"You okay with this one?"
Warrick sighed and shrugged. "Yeah. It just pisses me off. Life is too short to be hating everyone. I put up with a lot of this shit growing up. Intolerance just bothers me." He looked at Grissom and smiled grimly. "I suppose you could say I have no tolerance for intolerant people."
Grissom smiled back in understanding. "Just as long as you don't run around killing them, I see no problem with that attitude."
* * * * *
"I knew I'd be seeing you sooner or later." Robbins greeted, as Grissom walked in. "I haven't looked at your bodies yet."
"I know. I ran into Warrick in the hallway." He walked over to one of the examining tables, his gaze probing as they traveled over the burnt body of the man upon it. "Anything interesting?"
Robbins shrugged. "The heat was pretty intense - these guys have all been cooked."
"Blood boil up?"
"In this guy, yeah. I'll be able to get type and stuff, but it's going to be dense as molasses."
Grissom grimace. "Nice image." He checked over some of the other bodies. "Warrick said there was blood all over the walls. It's hard to tell, but I don't see any noticeable wounds that would indicate they bled before being set on fire."
Robbins shrugged. "I haven't found anything yet, either, but I just started. But I honestly don't think the blood is from any of these guys."
* * * * *
"Pig's blood." Vincent handed Catherine the print out, his expression triumphant. "Not human."
"Hey Catherine." Warrick strode into the lab. "Doc got several clothing samples for us from the body."
"And we got pig blood on the walls." Catherine took the printout Vincent handed to her, and gave it to Warwick.
"Pig blood?" Warrick looked at the report, shaking his head. "So, whoever did this transported pigs' blood to the crime scene to splash on the walls. Who has access to pig blood?"
Catherine smiled at him. "Slaughter houses, butchers and farmers."
______
Author's Note: Thanks for you reviews and patience with me getting this case started. I'm having so much fun exploring the psyches of these characters; I sometimes forget I can't just write about thoughts and feelings. I really appreciate all the feedback! And I'm bringing Greg back to the lab for some *light* work. For one thing, I have way to much fun writing him - he's just captured my imagination lately - and for another, Vincent is too stupid to handle evidence from 14 murders. Hehehe. Next Chapter: Welcome Home Dinner, some more clues. And for those of you emailing me asking for more N/S and G/C, I'll work on it.