Disclaimer- see first part
'How's he doing?' Sara asked as she entered the cold steel environment of the mortuary. She already had on the mandatory scrubs and mask, her hair pulled back off her face.
Dr Roberts, the Coroner on the case looked up at her entrance. He was standing the other side of the table, a barely recognisable body shaped piece of charred meat, covered unnecessarily for modesty in a white sheet, the contrast in colour stark against the silver table. 'Well, firstly, it's not a he.'
'Female?' Sara asked in surprise.
'100%. Tell by what's left of the pelvis.' He told her, nodding with his head towards the light box on the wall. Two x-rays were highlighted, one of the pelvic region, the other of the chest. The hips, Sara could tell, without being a radiologist, were female, too round to be male. The burden of every female's life, and something however many trips to the gym, and calorie counting was done, could never be changed.
'What else?'
'Caucasian. Age? Around twenty five to thirty, based on the calcification of the bones. Tall; 5 10, round about one-twenty weight. Never had children. Died, unsurprisingly from mass shock, caused by third degree burns.'
'Any other injuries of note?'
'Skins too damaged to assess. There's some unexplained nerve damage on her chest, over what looks like old fracture lines on her ribs. They're at least a year old, though. Broken arm as a child. Baseline fracture to the skull, but it was post-mortem, no tissue damage underneath, probably from when the body fell. I'll know more after the full autopsy. I bagged what was left of the clothes for you.' He said, nodding to a brown evidence bag on the sheet. It looked far too thin to hold anything of significance. 'Not much left, I'm afraid; a few items of jewellery that survived the heat, some threads of what looks like jogging bottom material. Got dental records when there's something to compare them to.'
Sara nodded, going to pick up the bag.
'Oh, one other thing.' Dr Roberts said as she reached the door. Her hand on the handle, she turned to regard him. 'Ring on her wedding finger.'
'Thanks, doc.'
'Your welcome.' He said to the closed door.
Female. Burned. Ouch. Female. Young. Tall. Medium build. Married? Female. Burned. On purpose. Hydro-carbonic traces in the ash. Gasoline. Doused in Gasoline. What.a match, a lighter. Something to get the fire started. One tiny spark, and she would have been up in flames.
Screaming.
Like the witnesses said. Screaming as the fire spread over all her body, leaving third degree burns in their wake. Burning past the thin layer of epidermis, through the subcutaneous fat, through to the nerves, to the tissue.
Scorching the sternum and the pelvis with the heat. When had she died? How soon after the fire? How long had she had to stand their, screaming in mindless agony till the fire and won, gained all control, burned the life out of the woman?
Who was she? Out jogging, maybe? Completely random, senseless act of cowardice? Throw gasoline, a spark, and voila, a human fire ball.
Or was it more controlled? Had she known the attacker like the majority of homicide victims? Did she stand and watch, knowing what was about to happen? Did she see him (the likelihood being that the murderer was male) before he doused her with gas, as he struck the light.
Was she screaming before the pain hit?
Was it too early for missing persons? Probably. Less than twenty-four hours if she hadn't been missing before hand, wouldn't be logged yet as a missing persons. She'd have to be dead a while longer before anyone could report her as such. Missing, lying on a coroners table.
It never ceased to amaze Sara the lengths people would go to, to end another human's life. She'd burned herself a few times. Small things, touching a pan handle without thinking, spilling hot water over the side of a cup onto a hand. Small burns, still hurt though. Having your whole body, all at the same time, that deep almost itching sensation of pain.
Sara shook the image out of her head, knowing that thinking this way wasn't going to help her. It wasn't their job to ask why. It was their job to find out the how's and the therefores. She was first and foremost a scientist, but it didn't stop her wondering about the state of human nature when one person could intentionally do this to another, didn't stop her asking why.
She looked at the piece of paper in front of her, the folded piece she had recovered from the crime scene. She had just sprayed it to set anything that could be a print to the surface, and was getting ready to test it, when the door to the private lab opened. Sara looked up, annoyed at the intrusion.
'Oh, sorry, didn't know anyone was in here.'
'I am.' Sara said, pointing out the obvious, and her irritation at the interruption.
'Gee.'Whatever Warrick had been about to say, he bit back. 'Sorry, just I need a flat space to look at this t-shirt.'
'We've got a whole department full of labs, go find another table.'
'All the others are full as well. You're not even using most of it.' He pointed out, his own voice showing that he was getting increasingly irritated as well.
Sara pouted, but stopped short of saying something that would just sound childish, turning from him instead, giving him the cold shoulder as she returned to the piece of paper.
'Thank you.' He said, although he didn't sound all that much like he meant it. The only lab in this whole place with a space big enough, and she had to be in it.
Warrick knew he had a bad case of judge before you know. But Sara hadn't exactly done anything to help herself, after being brought in to investigate him. She was rude, brash, irritating, to say the least. So what if she was good CSI? Didn't mean he had to like her, just put up with her when they were assigned together, which thankfully, wasn't that often.
'Crap.' He heard her mutter about half an hour after he had been in the room. Up until then, it had been stiflingly silent, neither of them about to make small talk with the other.
He looked up to see her studying something under a hand held magnifier. 'What?'
She jumped and looked up at him, obviously startled.
He smiled at her reaction. 'Sorry, still here.'
She recovered, giving him a less than friendly smile back, before looking back at what looked like a piece of paper she held between tweezers. 'The finger prints too smudged to be of use.' She said, almost as if she was talking to herself.
'Can I see?'
She looked up in surprise. 'Uh, sure.' She said, her eyes narrowed, wondering if he was checking up on her work. Technically, he was a rank above her.
'Shame, looks like something smudged it.' He said after a few seconds. 'Maybe you could try and focus it a little.'
'I already tried magnifying it.'
'No, with a computer. Scan it, then try and tighten the resolutions a little. It won't be clear enough for a complete match, but it might give you something to work with later.'
She was clearly thinking over his suggestion. 'Worth a shot, not a lot else left.'
'This your human fire-ball case?'
'Yeah. Someone doused a woman in gas and set her alight.'
'Ouch, I can't even imagine how painful that had to be.'
'Yeah, me neither.'
'Anything identifiable?'
'No. Too early for missing persons, skins too burned for fingerprints. We need records to compare dental works too, but we need something to work from.'
'Tough case. We should be.'
'I can handle it.' She interrupted before he could get it out.
'Sara, this is way too much for.'
'I said, I can handle it. Why does everyone think I'm not capable?' She asked, fuming.
'It's not that.'
'yeah right.' Sara scoffed. 'You've all been questioning it. Oh look, a DB for Sara, don't know if she's up to it.'
'It's not like that, and you know it. A murder is hard work on one investigator. You don't have to take on all this work alone.'
'Oh what, I should wait for one of you guys to finish? Get real.'
'Sara.' He chided, although there was only a gentleness to his voice, that surprised him, as much as it surprised her. 'We're meant to be a team. I know you can handle it. No one ever thought you couldn't. But don't shirk the offer of help when you get it, or you'll be chasing your tail all shift.'
Sara had lost the indignation and anger of a few seconds ago, and now even managed a small smile. 'You're right. But you're all still busy, so I might as well do what I can for now. Grissom's already said whoever finishes first will help out. But I can get everything started.'
She turned, carefully carrying the piece of paper, heading towards her computer, wondering what had just happened between her and Warrick. Had he just been nice to her?
Eight hours later, and she had forgotten all about Warrick, as she searched through database after database looking for a match for her fibres. She knew they were a cotton mix, dyed hot pink at some point, and came from the same source. Now all she needed was that source. She had matched up enough that she knew they were from some sort of fleecy garment, but she had yet to match exactly which one. She had found a database on line of fabric used by the major whole-sailors of fabric, but unfortunately it didn't come attached with a search facility so she was having to do it by hand.
She lifted the coffee cup to her lips, sipping the luke warm water with more sugar than coffee. She had stopped counting how many cups she had had, after her forth. She was about to really doze off when the figures on the screen before her startled her with their familiarity. She checked the components through twice, before knowing that she had found a definite match. And even better, when she checked the product list, there was just one, a high class upholstery store making and selling fleece blankets, in besides hot pink, lavender and navy blue.
Finally with a lead to go on, she printed off the result, and went to find a phonebook. Nick and Warrick were walking the other way, both with jackets in hand. Sara was surprised to find when she looked out of a near by window that it was morning, the end of shift.
'Hey Sar, coming for breakfast?' Nick asked.
'Um.maybe I'll catch you up. I just wanna find out something first.'
'Sure, we'll see you over there then.' They didn't need to say the place, there was only one café they ate breakfast in. 'You've been sitting in front of a computer again, haven't you?' He added.
She gave him a half scowl, half questioning look.
'You've got that half asleep, only awake on caffeine and sugar look.' Nick explained with a grin. 'Perhaps you should try sleeping on your days off instead of working.' He joked, although underneath the joking was a seriousness, and he didn't miss the tiny spark of shock that darted through her eyes that suggested his joking had been somewhat true.
'Whatever, if I'm not there in an hour, I've gone straight home.' She told them, turning round and walking off before she could see Nick's hurt tone.
'Way to go, man.' Warrick said, having watched the interaction in silence.
'What?'
'Never question a chick about their habits, you know, all that feminist crap. Thought you'd know better, ladies man as you are.'
'I was right though, she is working too hard.'
'Maybe. But you're not the one who gets to decide that.'
'Who does, then?'
'Sara. Or at the worst, Grissom. She's a big girl, Nick, she can take care of herself.'
'She shouldn't have to work that case alone.'
'No, but seeing as we've all got big cases, there's not much choice, is there?'
'Oh well, Me and Catherine should have everything finished pretty early tonight.' Nick said, as they started walking towards the exit. 'We can help out, if nothing else comes in.'
'In this city? Bound to be something going down.' Warrick joked as they walked out.
Sara quickly found out that there wasn't a local store of the chain that sold the blanket, but it was available on mail order via both catalogue and over the internet. When she phoned and asked for a list of any customers buying the blanket from the Vegas area, she was met with laughter, till the guy on the other end realised that she wasn't, laughing that was.
'You're serious?'
'Very. You do keep records, don't you?'
'Well yeah, But we're not very upto date here, we don't have all that snazzy computer software. We just have an inventory list, and a customer list.'
'So there's no way of knowing who brought what?' Sara asked, disappointed.
'Well, there is, it's just not very quick. It's called paper.'
Sara sighed. Loudly. 'Well, can you find out for me. It may help us to identify a homicide victim.'
'Um.well.'
'Did you not hear me? Either you can do it, or I'll get a warrant and do it myself.'
'Ok, ok. But you'll have to give me some time. Why don't I take your number, and I'll give you a call when I'm done?'
'Thank you.' Sara said, although her voice was still a little strained, mostly at the thought of the time it would take.
'It's the best I can do.' The man snapped at her. 'Take it or leave it'
Sara was silent for the moment. 'Sorry, it's just time is of the serious essence here. I shouldn't take it out on you, it's not your fault.'
'It's a shame you didn't call in a month or two, all our stuffs about to go binary. It just hasn't happened yet.' The guy said.
'Thank you, I do mean it.' She gave him her cell and pager number, before thanking him again, and hanging up.
She looked around for a moment, surprised that all the people from day shift were here, till she remembered shift had officially ended. Maybe she should be going home, getting some sleep, come back freshened up tonight to really get down to it. But with all the unanswered questions, the whys she so desperately wanted to know along with the hows and more importantly the who.she didn't see herself sleeping all that well anyway.
Without looking back, she crossed over to the empty lab, shutting the door, getting down to work on the paper again, time never crossing her mind again.
'How's he doing?' Sara asked as she entered the cold steel environment of the mortuary. She already had on the mandatory scrubs and mask, her hair pulled back off her face.
Dr Roberts, the Coroner on the case looked up at her entrance. He was standing the other side of the table, a barely recognisable body shaped piece of charred meat, covered unnecessarily for modesty in a white sheet, the contrast in colour stark against the silver table. 'Well, firstly, it's not a he.'
'Female?' Sara asked in surprise.
'100%. Tell by what's left of the pelvis.' He told her, nodding with his head towards the light box on the wall. Two x-rays were highlighted, one of the pelvic region, the other of the chest. The hips, Sara could tell, without being a radiologist, were female, too round to be male. The burden of every female's life, and something however many trips to the gym, and calorie counting was done, could never be changed.
'What else?'
'Caucasian. Age? Around twenty five to thirty, based on the calcification of the bones. Tall; 5 10, round about one-twenty weight. Never had children. Died, unsurprisingly from mass shock, caused by third degree burns.'
'Any other injuries of note?'
'Skins too damaged to assess. There's some unexplained nerve damage on her chest, over what looks like old fracture lines on her ribs. They're at least a year old, though. Broken arm as a child. Baseline fracture to the skull, but it was post-mortem, no tissue damage underneath, probably from when the body fell. I'll know more after the full autopsy. I bagged what was left of the clothes for you.' He said, nodding to a brown evidence bag on the sheet. It looked far too thin to hold anything of significance. 'Not much left, I'm afraid; a few items of jewellery that survived the heat, some threads of what looks like jogging bottom material. Got dental records when there's something to compare them to.'
Sara nodded, going to pick up the bag.
'Oh, one other thing.' Dr Roberts said as she reached the door. Her hand on the handle, she turned to regard him. 'Ring on her wedding finger.'
'Thanks, doc.'
'Your welcome.' He said to the closed door.
Female. Burned. Ouch. Female. Young. Tall. Medium build. Married? Female. Burned. On purpose. Hydro-carbonic traces in the ash. Gasoline. Doused in Gasoline. What.a match, a lighter. Something to get the fire started. One tiny spark, and she would have been up in flames.
Screaming.
Like the witnesses said. Screaming as the fire spread over all her body, leaving third degree burns in their wake. Burning past the thin layer of epidermis, through the subcutaneous fat, through to the nerves, to the tissue.
Scorching the sternum and the pelvis with the heat. When had she died? How soon after the fire? How long had she had to stand their, screaming in mindless agony till the fire and won, gained all control, burned the life out of the woman?
Who was she? Out jogging, maybe? Completely random, senseless act of cowardice? Throw gasoline, a spark, and voila, a human fire ball.
Or was it more controlled? Had she known the attacker like the majority of homicide victims? Did she stand and watch, knowing what was about to happen? Did she see him (the likelihood being that the murderer was male) before he doused her with gas, as he struck the light.
Was she screaming before the pain hit?
Was it too early for missing persons? Probably. Less than twenty-four hours if she hadn't been missing before hand, wouldn't be logged yet as a missing persons. She'd have to be dead a while longer before anyone could report her as such. Missing, lying on a coroners table.
It never ceased to amaze Sara the lengths people would go to, to end another human's life. She'd burned herself a few times. Small things, touching a pan handle without thinking, spilling hot water over the side of a cup onto a hand. Small burns, still hurt though. Having your whole body, all at the same time, that deep almost itching sensation of pain.
Sara shook the image out of her head, knowing that thinking this way wasn't going to help her. It wasn't their job to ask why. It was their job to find out the how's and the therefores. She was first and foremost a scientist, but it didn't stop her wondering about the state of human nature when one person could intentionally do this to another, didn't stop her asking why.
She looked at the piece of paper in front of her, the folded piece she had recovered from the crime scene. She had just sprayed it to set anything that could be a print to the surface, and was getting ready to test it, when the door to the private lab opened. Sara looked up, annoyed at the intrusion.
'Oh, sorry, didn't know anyone was in here.'
'I am.' Sara said, pointing out the obvious, and her irritation at the interruption.
'Gee.'Whatever Warrick had been about to say, he bit back. 'Sorry, just I need a flat space to look at this t-shirt.'
'We've got a whole department full of labs, go find another table.'
'All the others are full as well. You're not even using most of it.' He pointed out, his own voice showing that he was getting increasingly irritated as well.
Sara pouted, but stopped short of saying something that would just sound childish, turning from him instead, giving him the cold shoulder as she returned to the piece of paper.
'Thank you.' He said, although he didn't sound all that much like he meant it. The only lab in this whole place with a space big enough, and she had to be in it.
Warrick knew he had a bad case of judge before you know. But Sara hadn't exactly done anything to help herself, after being brought in to investigate him. She was rude, brash, irritating, to say the least. So what if she was good CSI? Didn't mean he had to like her, just put up with her when they were assigned together, which thankfully, wasn't that often.
'Crap.' He heard her mutter about half an hour after he had been in the room. Up until then, it had been stiflingly silent, neither of them about to make small talk with the other.
He looked up to see her studying something under a hand held magnifier. 'What?'
She jumped and looked up at him, obviously startled.
He smiled at her reaction. 'Sorry, still here.'
She recovered, giving him a less than friendly smile back, before looking back at what looked like a piece of paper she held between tweezers. 'The finger prints too smudged to be of use.' She said, almost as if she was talking to herself.
'Can I see?'
She looked up in surprise. 'Uh, sure.' She said, her eyes narrowed, wondering if he was checking up on her work. Technically, he was a rank above her.
'Shame, looks like something smudged it.' He said after a few seconds. 'Maybe you could try and focus it a little.'
'I already tried magnifying it.'
'No, with a computer. Scan it, then try and tighten the resolutions a little. It won't be clear enough for a complete match, but it might give you something to work with later.'
She was clearly thinking over his suggestion. 'Worth a shot, not a lot else left.'
'This your human fire-ball case?'
'Yeah. Someone doused a woman in gas and set her alight.'
'Ouch, I can't even imagine how painful that had to be.'
'Yeah, me neither.'
'Anything identifiable?'
'No. Too early for missing persons, skins too burned for fingerprints. We need records to compare dental works too, but we need something to work from.'
'Tough case. We should be.'
'I can handle it.' She interrupted before he could get it out.
'Sara, this is way too much for.'
'I said, I can handle it. Why does everyone think I'm not capable?' She asked, fuming.
'It's not that.'
'yeah right.' Sara scoffed. 'You've all been questioning it. Oh look, a DB for Sara, don't know if she's up to it.'
'It's not like that, and you know it. A murder is hard work on one investigator. You don't have to take on all this work alone.'
'Oh what, I should wait for one of you guys to finish? Get real.'
'Sara.' He chided, although there was only a gentleness to his voice, that surprised him, as much as it surprised her. 'We're meant to be a team. I know you can handle it. No one ever thought you couldn't. But don't shirk the offer of help when you get it, or you'll be chasing your tail all shift.'
Sara had lost the indignation and anger of a few seconds ago, and now even managed a small smile. 'You're right. But you're all still busy, so I might as well do what I can for now. Grissom's already said whoever finishes first will help out. But I can get everything started.'
She turned, carefully carrying the piece of paper, heading towards her computer, wondering what had just happened between her and Warrick. Had he just been nice to her?
Eight hours later, and she had forgotten all about Warrick, as she searched through database after database looking for a match for her fibres. She knew they were a cotton mix, dyed hot pink at some point, and came from the same source. Now all she needed was that source. She had matched up enough that she knew they were from some sort of fleecy garment, but she had yet to match exactly which one. She had found a database on line of fabric used by the major whole-sailors of fabric, but unfortunately it didn't come attached with a search facility so she was having to do it by hand.
She lifted the coffee cup to her lips, sipping the luke warm water with more sugar than coffee. She had stopped counting how many cups she had had, after her forth. She was about to really doze off when the figures on the screen before her startled her with their familiarity. She checked the components through twice, before knowing that she had found a definite match. And even better, when she checked the product list, there was just one, a high class upholstery store making and selling fleece blankets, in besides hot pink, lavender and navy blue.
Finally with a lead to go on, she printed off the result, and went to find a phonebook. Nick and Warrick were walking the other way, both with jackets in hand. Sara was surprised to find when she looked out of a near by window that it was morning, the end of shift.
'Hey Sar, coming for breakfast?' Nick asked.
'Um.maybe I'll catch you up. I just wanna find out something first.'
'Sure, we'll see you over there then.' They didn't need to say the place, there was only one café they ate breakfast in. 'You've been sitting in front of a computer again, haven't you?' He added.
She gave him a half scowl, half questioning look.
'You've got that half asleep, only awake on caffeine and sugar look.' Nick explained with a grin. 'Perhaps you should try sleeping on your days off instead of working.' He joked, although underneath the joking was a seriousness, and he didn't miss the tiny spark of shock that darted through her eyes that suggested his joking had been somewhat true.
'Whatever, if I'm not there in an hour, I've gone straight home.' She told them, turning round and walking off before she could see Nick's hurt tone.
'Way to go, man.' Warrick said, having watched the interaction in silence.
'What?'
'Never question a chick about their habits, you know, all that feminist crap. Thought you'd know better, ladies man as you are.'
'I was right though, she is working too hard.'
'Maybe. But you're not the one who gets to decide that.'
'Who does, then?'
'Sara. Or at the worst, Grissom. She's a big girl, Nick, she can take care of herself.'
'She shouldn't have to work that case alone.'
'No, but seeing as we've all got big cases, there's not much choice, is there?'
'Oh well, Me and Catherine should have everything finished pretty early tonight.' Nick said, as they started walking towards the exit. 'We can help out, if nothing else comes in.'
'In this city? Bound to be something going down.' Warrick joked as they walked out.
Sara quickly found out that there wasn't a local store of the chain that sold the blanket, but it was available on mail order via both catalogue and over the internet. When she phoned and asked for a list of any customers buying the blanket from the Vegas area, she was met with laughter, till the guy on the other end realised that she wasn't, laughing that was.
'You're serious?'
'Very. You do keep records, don't you?'
'Well yeah, But we're not very upto date here, we don't have all that snazzy computer software. We just have an inventory list, and a customer list.'
'So there's no way of knowing who brought what?' Sara asked, disappointed.
'Well, there is, it's just not very quick. It's called paper.'
Sara sighed. Loudly. 'Well, can you find out for me. It may help us to identify a homicide victim.'
'Um.well.'
'Did you not hear me? Either you can do it, or I'll get a warrant and do it myself.'
'Ok, ok. But you'll have to give me some time. Why don't I take your number, and I'll give you a call when I'm done?'
'Thank you.' Sara said, although her voice was still a little strained, mostly at the thought of the time it would take.
'It's the best I can do.' The man snapped at her. 'Take it or leave it'
Sara was silent for the moment. 'Sorry, it's just time is of the serious essence here. I shouldn't take it out on you, it's not your fault.'
'It's a shame you didn't call in a month or two, all our stuffs about to go binary. It just hasn't happened yet.' The guy said.
'Thank you, I do mean it.' She gave him her cell and pager number, before thanking him again, and hanging up.
She looked around for a moment, surprised that all the people from day shift were here, till she remembered shift had officially ended. Maybe she should be going home, getting some sleep, come back freshened up tonight to really get down to it. But with all the unanswered questions, the whys she so desperately wanted to know along with the hows and more importantly the who.she didn't see herself sleeping all that well anyway.
Without looking back, she crossed over to the empty lab, shutting the door, getting down to work on the paper again, time never crossing her mind again.