*************
Two days later
JAG HQ-- Harm's office
1730 local
"And that's what we've got. Three women with absolutely nothing in common except their gender and the way they were killed," CD finished, frustration evident in her voice.
Harm glanced over the file in front of him one more time before
answering. "Three unrelated victims, but all killed in the same general fashion. I don't see it, CD. Why are you so certain it's the same killer?"
Across the desk, CD pushed her glasses up on to her forehead and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Because of the specifics of the crimes. All three first had their throats cut, then were systematically disemboweled." She looked down, consulting the file in her lap. "Furthermore, all wounds were inflicted with similar weapons---possibly the same weapon. Something extremely sharp, small, light, and easy to handle. Probably only sharp on one side, rather than a double-edged blade. Also probably a fairly short blade-- these were blitz-style attacks, but the first injuries-the neck cuts-- were fairly shallow."
Harm flipped through a few pages, then looked up at Mercedes, an odd expression on his face. "Where'd you get that?" he asked.
"I was there for the autopsies, Harm. Not to mention I know all the M.E.s. It's my job, remember? That whole forensics thing?"
Harm looked at her skeptically. "Okay, wiseass, what else?"
Mercedes grinned back. "Better a wiseass than just an ass," she pronounced solemnly. "One of the MEs I talked suggested that the weapon might be a surgical scalpel, and I'm inclined to agree with him. All the wounds are consistent, on all three of the victims. Also, our killer is right handed. Almost always, when a vic's throat is slit, they're attacked from behind. There's nothing to indicate that this is any different. The victims' throats were slit from left to right, which means the killer was holding the weapon in his right hand."
"Impressive," Harm admitted. "But we still don't have any clue who we're looking for, do we?"
CD sighed, pushing her glasses up on her forehead and rubbing the bridge of her nose. "No, we don't. That's what's been giving everyone headaches about this." She leaned back, throwing the file on the desk in frustration. "Dammit, I know I'm missing something here... something big. And it's annoying the crap out of me."
"What do you mean, missing something?" Harm asked, looking up from the coroner's report he'd been rereading. "CD, I've looked over the reports, the evidence, all of it. I don't see where anything's been missed. We've got everything available."
"That's not what I mean," she snapped, then sighed. "Sorry. Look, what I was trying to say is that I keep getting this gut feeling that I've seen this before. I know," she said, holding up a hand to stop him interrupting, "there's no reason to think that these murders are in any way related to any other crimes. But I still get that same feeling in my gut." She picked up several reports, glancing through them before throwing them down in frustration.
Harm glanced at the clock. "Look, it's closing time here. How do you feel about stopping for a drink?"
"Sounds like a plan."
**************
A Little Later
McMurphy's Tavern
"You did WHAT?"
"You heard me."
CD shook her head in disbelief. "Only you would consider firing a weapon in court a valid legal tactic."
"Yeah, well.... it wasn't't like I got away with it, " Harm replied ruefully, taking another swig of his beer.
"Ah, yes. I met your boss the first day. I don't imagine he made things too pleasant for you."
"When did you meet Chegwidden?"
"Like I said, the first day. Which reminds me...If anyone asks, my last name is Von Kleist."
"Do I want to know?" Harm asked warily.
"Probably not," CD admitted. "That way if the fit hits the shan, you can deny everything with a clear conscience," she said logically, taking a swig of her beer.
"Why doesn't that make me feel any better," Harm muttered, more to himself than to her.
"Probably because you've gotten paranoid in your old age," Mercedes shot back, grinning wickedly.
He glared back at her. "Old age? May I remind you that you're not that much younger than me yourself?"
Mercedes was ready to deliver a parrying shot when Harm's cell phone rang. Instead, she leaned back and gave him a look that said 'you got lucky that time' as he fished the phone from his pocket and answered.
"Rabb?...Hi, Renee...McMurphy's....I'm just having a drink with a friend, that's all. ...No, not Mac.... Renee--we were?...Renee, I'm sorry, I just forgot....I know. Look--....Renee... Renee?" He sighed, putting away the phone.
CD just looked at him, eyebrows raised. "I'd ask if that was your mother, but I happen to know for a fact her name's not Renee," she said carefully, taking another swig of her beer.
"Renee's my girlfriend."
If CD's eyebrows went any higher, they'd be bangs. "Really. Well." Suddenly, her glass of Bitburger became immensely fascinating to her.
Harm just looked at CD. He knew this routine; this had always been CD's way of keeping quiet when she was just dying to say something she knew the other person wasn't going to like. He sighed, saying, "All right. Out with it, CD."
"I didn't say a word," she proclaimed defensively.
"You didn't need to," he pointed out wryly.
"Fine. You asked for it," she stated, before pausing to consider her words. "Harm, I admit I know nothing about the person on the other end of that phone. But I know you. The little bit you were allowed to talk, you didn't sound happy. You sounded weary...tired. That's not usually the sense I get when listening to people talk to their loved ones," she finished, taking a long swallow of her beer. "And that's all I'm gonna say."
"That, and your previous comment," he said pointedly.
"Hey, I call 'em like I see 'em," she defended, wondering just what sort of woman this Renee was. She remembered the picture and letters Harm had sent from the Academy, and the bright, quick-witted brunette that was the focus of them. Harm needed someone like that...someone who gave as good as they got.
Mercedes half-listened as Harm began telling her more about JAG, her mind still stuck on the mysterious Renee. She was just going to have to meet this person, she decided. If she liked her, great. Harm had always wanted a family, and Mercedes would just give matters a little help. If not, well....nice meeting you, Fraulein. Don't let the door hit ya in the heine on the way out.
Satisfied with her course of action, Mercedes turned her full attention back to her cousin. Hmmm, she was going to have to meet some of these people her worked with. Especially this Mac he kept mentioning.....
TBC....
Two days later
JAG HQ-- Harm's office
1730 local
"And that's what we've got. Three women with absolutely nothing in common except their gender and the way they were killed," CD finished, frustration evident in her voice.
Harm glanced over the file in front of him one more time before
answering. "Three unrelated victims, but all killed in the same general fashion. I don't see it, CD. Why are you so certain it's the same killer?"
Across the desk, CD pushed her glasses up on to her forehead and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Because of the specifics of the crimes. All three first had their throats cut, then were systematically disemboweled." She looked down, consulting the file in her lap. "Furthermore, all wounds were inflicted with similar weapons---possibly the same weapon. Something extremely sharp, small, light, and easy to handle. Probably only sharp on one side, rather than a double-edged blade. Also probably a fairly short blade-- these were blitz-style attacks, but the first injuries-the neck cuts-- were fairly shallow."
Harm flipped through a few pages, then looked up at Mercedes, an odd expression on his face. "Where'd you get that?" he asked.
"I was there for the autopsies, Harm. Not to mention I know all the M.E.s. It's my job, remember? That whole forensics thing?"
Harm looked at her skeptically. "Okay, wiseass, what else?"
Mercedes grinned back. "Better a wiseass than just an ass," she pronounced solemnly. "One of the MEs I talked suggested that the weapon might be a surgical scalpel, and I'm inclined to agree with him. All the wounds are consistent, on all three of the victims. Also, our killer is right handed. Almost always, when a vic's throat is slit, they're attacked from behind. There's nothing to indicate that this is any different. The victims' throats were slit from left to right, which means the killer was holding the weapon in his right hand."
"Impressive," Harm admitted. "But we still don't have any clue who we're looking for, do we?"
CD sighed, pushing her glasses up on her forehead and rubbing the bridge of her nose. "No, we don't. That's what's been giving everyone headaches about this." She leaned back, throwing the file on the desk in frustration. "Dammit, I know I'm missing something here... something big. And it's annoying the crap out of me."
"What do you mean, missing something?" Harm asked, looking up from the coroner's report he'd been rereading. "CD, I've looked over the reports, the evidence, all of it. I don't see where anything's been missed. We've got everything available."
"That's not what I mean," she snapped, then sighed. "Sorry. Look, what I was trying to say is that I keep getting this gut feeling that I've seen this before. I know," she said, holding up a hand to stop him interrupting, "there's no reason to think that these murders are in any way related to any other crimes. But I still get that same feeling in my gut." She picked up several reports, glancing through them before throwing them down in frustration.
Harm glanced at the clock. "Look, it's closing time here. How do you feel about stopping for a drink?"
"Sounds like a plan."
**************
A Little Later
McMurphy's Tavern
"You did WHAT?"
"You heard me."
CD shook her head in disbelief. "Only you would consider firing a weapon in court a valid legal tactic."
"Yeah, well.... it wasn't't like I got away with it, " Harm replied ruefully, taking another swig of his beer.
"Ah, yes. I met your boss the first day. I don't imagine he made things too pleasant for you."
"When did you meet Chegwidden?"
"Like I said, the first day. Which reminds me...If anyone asks, my last name is Von Kleist."
"Do I want to know?" Harm asked warily.
"Probably not," CD admitted. "That way if the fit hits the shan, you can deny everything with a clear conscience," she said logically, taking a swig of her beer.
"Why doesn't that make me feel any better," Harm muttered, more to himself than to her.
"Probably because you've gotten paranoid in your old age," Mercedes shot back, grinning wickedly.
He glared back at her. "Old age? May I remind you that you're not that much younger than me yourself?"
Mercedes was ready to deliver a parrying shot when Harm's cell phone rang. Instead, she leaned back and gave him a look that said 'you got lucky that time' as he fished the phone from his pocket and answered.
"Rabb?...Hi, Renee...McMurphy's....I'm just having a drink with a friend, that's all. ...No, not Mac.... Renee--we were?...Renee, I'm sorry, I just forgot....I know. Look--....Renee... Renee?" He sighed, putting away the phone.
CD just looked at him, eyebrows raised. "I'd ask if that was your mother, but I happen to know for a fact her name's not Renee," she said carefully, taking another swig of her beer.
"Renee's my girlfriend."
If CD's eyebrows went any higher, they'd be bangs. "Really. Well." Suddenly, her glass of Bitburger became immensely fascinating to her.
Harm just looked at CD. He knew this routine; this had always been CD's way of keeping quiet when she was just dying to say something she knew the other person wasn't going to like. He sighed, saying, "All right. Out with it, CD."
"I didn't say a word," she proclaimed defensively.
"You didn't need to," he pointed out wryly.
"Fine. You asked for it," she stated, before pausing to consider her words. "Harm, I admit I know nothing about the person on the other end of that phone. But I know you. The little bit you were allowed to talk, you didn't sound happy. You sounded weary...tired. That's not usually the sense I get when listening to people talk to their loved ones," she finished, taking a long swallow of her beer. "And that's all I'm gonna say."
"That, and your previous comment," he said pointedly.
"Hey, I call 'em like I see 'em," she defended, wondering just what sort of woman this Renee was. She remembered the picture and letters Harm had sent from the Academy, and the bright, quick-witted brunette that was the focus of them. Harm needed someone like that...someone who gave as good as they got.
Mercedes half-listened as Harm began telling her more about JAG, her mind still stuck on the mysterious Renee. She was just going to have to meet this person, she decided. If she liked her, great. Harm had always wanted a family, and Mercedes would just give matters a little help. If not, well....nice meeting you, Fraulein. Don't let the door hit ya in the heine on the way out.
Satisfied with her course of action, Mercedes turned her full attention back to her cousin. Hmmm, she was going to have to meet some of these people her worked with. Especially this Mac he kept mentioning.....
TBC....