WARNING: Again, this gets a bit gruesome.... fair warning. (If you can't handle the gross stuff on CSI, this will likely be too much. Fair warning.)
************************************************
Commercial docks
Newport News, VI
1548 local
This time, Harm and Mac had agreed to examine the scene while Mercedes dealt with the victim. CD had introduced them to the lead criminalist present, Maria Locke, and then disappeared toward the back of the alley between the two large warehouses. That was over an hour and a half ago.
Even working with Maria and the other crime scene "collectors" present, there was precious little to be found. A few inquiries of the talkative Maria had gained Mac the knowledge that no one was surprised by this. All the previous scenes had produced a similar dearth of physical evidence.
Harm came over to where Mac was standing, surveying the alley. "So how's it going over here?" he asked, pulling off the mandatory rubber gloves.
Mac sighed. "We've got nothing. According to Maria, normally there'd be some sort of indication, some minimal trace of the killer left behind. It feels like we've scoured every last inch of this alley, and haven't found a damn thing."
"Same on this side," Harm commented. They'd each worked with a separate group looking for trace evidence; Harm's team had taken the north side of the alley, Mac's the south, and a third group was covering the area close to the body. "These people are good, Mac. They know exactly what they're looking for, and even they can't find anything." The frustration in his voice matched hers as they made their way back to the car.
Silence fell between them, both too weary to feel awkward. It was Mac who finally broke it, as they both gazed back into the darkened alley where a small cluster of police stood.
"Wonder how Mercedes is doing?"
******************
Back in the alley, the work was painstaking, meticulous, and gruesome. More than one police officer had been relieved, only to stumble off to a 'safe' corner and lose the contents of his stomach. Mercedes had been repeatedly tempted to join them.
But she couldn't. She was still on duty, still trying to find a way to speak for the hideously butchered dead woman at her feet.
Lieutenant Catherine Eddowes had been a beautiful woman in life. A tall, statuesque redhead, she likely would have garnered much attention. But sometime last night, someone had determinedly set out to destroy that beauty.
Like the other victims, the apparent first wound inflicted was a long, lethal gash across the neck. But either she had fought her attacker, or he hadn't been satisfied with the first attack. There was a shallow gash across her forehead, and a long, disfiguring slash started under her left eye and traveled over the bridge of the nose across the face.
But bad as the damage to the upper half of the body was, it was nothing compared to the sheer destruction inflicted on her abdomen. Sightless eyes looked away from the ripped and torn uniform skirt that had been crudely yanked upward to reveal the damage. A ragged cut had sliced through the muscle of the abdomen, and much of internal organs had been removed. Some lay on the street next to the body or had been positioned crudely on it; others, the ME on site had confirmed, had been removed completely.
Mercedes had photographed the scene and catalogued the placement of everything with meticulous precision, taking detailed notes of random observations and seemingly innocuous details. She took no notice of the time passing.
Finally she stood up and addressed one of the officers. "That's it. All yours," she said tiredly, pulling off her gloves and closing up her kit. "Let me know if you learn anything." With that, she wearily drug herself back to the SUV and the waiting military officers.
Mac saw her first, and nudged Harm, who had been staring out over the water. Both saw the same thing; a bedraggled woman who looked ready collapse. She glanced at Harm, who nodded. They both recognized a person pushing too hard for too long--having seen each other do so far too many times. "I take it there's no good news," Harm commented as she approached.
CD paused to give him a dark look. "I just spent several hours with a woman whose internal organs were dumped on the pavement. There is no such thing as good news," she snapped bluntly.
Mac intervened. "Did you find any leads?" she asked, hoping to steer the conversation.
It was as if someone had let the air out of CD. She dropped the case and slumped against the side of the car. "No. Not a dammed thing," she sighed, and the weight of the world was in her voice. "And on top of it, I'm even more convinced that I've seen this before."
Mac's surprised look of confusion led Harm to explain. "We haven't had a chance to really go over the case with you yet, Mac, but Mercedes is convinced she's familiar with something about these murders," he explained.
"Yeah...I just can't seem to come up with what, though," she added, glancing at the case she'd dropped. "Look, there's nothing more to do here, and I'm not sure I'm up to driving all the way back to D.C. Hell, I'm not sure I'm up to driving, period. How about you?"
Harm glanced at Mac. "I think we're all pretty weary. Suggestions?"
"Is there a good place anywhere closer we could all stay? Harm and I could get guest quarters at one of the bases around here, but that kind of leaves you out," Mac stated.
Mercedes thought a bit before speaking. "Do you think between the three of us, we could make it up to Fredericksburg? It's still a drive, but a good hour and a half shorter than D.C."
"Why? What's in Fredericksburg?" Mac asked.
Mercedes grinned, for the first time that day. "My house, and more importantly, my library. We can all sleep in honest-to-God beds, and I can maybe figure out once and for all why this is setting off alarms for me."
Harm and Mac looked at each other. "Sounds like a plan," he commented, retrieving the case and putting it in the car.
"Great," Mercedes sighed. "Heads up, Colonel," she said, tossing the car keys to Mac. "You do the honors? I've seen him drive."
The women's laughter drowned out Harm's protest as they all climbed into the SUV.
TBC....
************************************************
Commercial docks
Newport News, VI
1548 local
This time, Harm and Mac had agreed to examine the scene while Mercedes dealt with the victim. CD had introduced them to the lead criminalist present, Maria Locke, and then disappeared toward the back of the alley between the two large warehouses. That was over an hour and a half ago.
Even working with Maria and the other crime scene "collectors" present, there was precious little to be found. A few inquiries of the talkative Maria had gained Mac the knowledge that no one was surprised by this. All the previous scenes had produced a similar dearth of physical evidence.
Harm came over to where Mac was standing, surveying the alley. "So how's it going over here?" he asked, pulling off the mandatory rubber gloves.
Mac sighed. "We've got nothing. According to Maria, normally there'd be some sort of indication, some minimal trace of the killer left behind. It feels like we've scoured every last inch of this alley, and haven't found a damn thing."
"Same on this side," Harm commented. They'd each worked with a separate group looking for trace evidence; Harm's team had taken the north side of the alley, Mac's the south, and a third group was covering the area close to the body. "These people are good, Mac. They know exactly what they're looking for, and even they can't find anything." The frustration in his voice matched hers as they made their way back to the car.
Silence fell between them, both too weary to feel awkward. It was Mac who finally broke it, as they both gazed back into the darkened alley where a small cluster of police stood.
"Wonder how Mercedes is doing?"
******************
Back in the alley, the work was painstaking, meticulous, and gruesome. More than one police officer had been relieved, only to stumble off to a 'safe' corner and lose the contents of his stomach. Mercedes had been repeatedly tempted to join them.
But she couldn't. She was still on duty, still trying to find a way to speak for the hideously butchered dead woman at her feet.
Lieutenant Catherine Eddowes had been a beautiful woman in life. A tall, statuesque redhead, she likely would have garnered much attention. But sometime last night, someone had determinedly set out to destroy that beauty.
Like the other victims, the apparent first wound inflicted was a long, lethal gash across the neck. But either she had fought her attacker, or he hadn't been satisfied with the first attack. There was a shallow gash across her forehead, and a long, disfiguring slash started under her left eye and traveled over the bridge of the nose across the face.
But bad as the damage to the upper half of the body was, it was nothing compared to the sheer destruction inflicted on her abdomen. Sightless eyes looked away from the ripped and torn uniform skirt that had been crudely yanked upward to reveal the damage. A ragged cut had sliced through the muscle of the abdomen, and much of internal organs had been removed. Some lay on the street next to the body or had been positioned crudely on it; others, the ME on site had confirmed, had been removed completely.
Mercedes had photographed the scene and catalogued the placement of everything with meticulous precision, taking detailed notes of random observations and seemingly innocuous details. She took no notice of the time passing.
Finally she stood up and addressed one of the officers. "That's it. All yours," she said tiredly, pulling off her gloves and closing up her kit. "Let me know if you learn anything." With that, she wearily drug herself back to the SUV and the waiting military officers.
Mac saw her first, and nudged Harm, who had been staring out over the water. Both saw the same thing; a bedraggled woman who looked ready collapse. She glanced at Harm, who nodded. They both recognized a person pushing too hard for too long--having seen each other do so far too many times. "I take it there's no good news," Harm commented as she approached.
CD paused to give him a dark look. "I just spent several hours with a woman whose internal organs were dumped on the pavement. There is no such thing as good news," she snapped bluntly.
Mac intervened. "Did you find any leads?" she asked, hoping to steer the conversation.
It was as if someone had let the air out of CD. She dropped the case and slumped against the side of the car. "No. Not a dammed thing," she sighed, and the weight of the world was in her voice. "And on top of it, I'm even more convinced that I've seen this before."
Mac's surprised look of confusion led Harm to explain. "We haven't had a chance to really go over the case with you yet, Mac, but Mercedes is convinced she's familiar with something about these murders," he explained.
"Yeah...I just can't seem to come up with what, though," she added, glancing at the case she'd dropped. "Look, there's nothing more to do here, and I'm not sure I'm up to driving all the way back to D.C. Hell, I'm not sure I'm up to driving, period. How about you?"
Harm glanced at Mac. "I think we're all pretty weary. Suggestions?"
"Is there a good place anywhere closer we could all stay? Harm and I could get guest quarters at one of the bases around here, but that kind of leaves you out," Mac stated.
Mercedes thought a bit before speaking. "Do you think between the three of us, we could make it up to Fredericksburg? It's still a drive, but a good hour and a half shorter than D.C."
"Why? What's in Fredericksburg?" Mac asked.
Mercedes grinned, for the first time that day. "My house, and more importantly, my library. We can all sleep in honest-to-God beds, and I can maybe figure out once and for all why this is setting off alarms for me."
Harm and Mac looked at each other. "Sounds like a plan," he commented, retrieving the case and putting it in the car.
"Great," Mercedes sighed. "Heads up, Colonel," she said, tossing the car keys to Mac. "You do the honors? I've seen him drive."
The women's laughter drowned out Harm's protest as they all climbed into the SUV.
TBC....