Thank you for all the reviews- I love to know that people are actually
reading this! As you can see, I've re-posted all the chapters, so
hopefully, the formatting will be easier to read. Honestly, it wasn't me,
for whatever reason all the formatting in word didn't come through on the
page! There is a definite winner coming out in the relationship poll, but
you'll just have to wait and see- this chapter is more concerned with the
case I'm afraid!
Although, I don't know about the Greg suggestion- I could never see Sara
going for him. Then again, stranger things have happened- Grissom being one
of them! One other thing- someone mentioned on a review my use of the
single quotation marks- it's how I've always been taught. Don't know if
it's a British thing or what, but neither is wrong.
Enjoy!
The Coroner was working on paperwork when they got to his domain. He looked up, a serious expression to his face. 'I found traces of this on her body.' He told them, handing over a report to Sara.
Sara quickly scanned the paper, picking out the chemical equation 'HF?'
'Hydrofluoric acid' Dr Robbins filled in. He stopped at the look that passed over Sara's face. 'I'm guessing you know what it does then.'
'Extremely corrosive, removes calcium from body tissues causing deep level burns.' Sara answered, her voice deliberately monotone, as she scanned the paper in front of her.
Warrick looked between her and the coroner. The coroner saw he didn't know what they were talking about, and filled in the blanks. 'It's an extremely hazardous material that even the slightest exposure on skin can cause a deep level burn. This substance was dilute to 75%, but anything above 50% would be enough to scar down to the bone.'
'Is that what killed her?'
'No- HF, untreated, would take a few days to kill- the time it would take to remove enough Calcium from the body to make nerve stimulation impossible. For whatever reason, after the HF had been applied, she was doused in gasoline and set alight. It probably made her death quicker.'
'A lot more painful though.' Sara added.
'Yes. It was concentrated around her hands, like they were dunked in liquid.'
'He tortured her before he killed her.' Sara murmured, her jaw setting as the anger washed through her.
The doctor waited a few moments for her to calm down before carrying on. 'There was a distinct smell coming from the body- like burning flesh but a lot more pungent.'
Sara nodded in agreement.
'That was caused by the interaction between HF and Gasoline.'
Sara turned away slightly, pacing the room, as she fought the memories of that smell.
'Would it have been enough to kill her in the end?' Warrick asked the coroner.
'Doubtful- she probably would have lost her hands, and maybe had paralysis to her arms, but it wouldn't have killed her. Especially if she had been treated- Calcium Gluconate can counteract the acid, effectively neutralising it.'
'Anything else?' Warrick asked, trying to move it along, for Sara's sake.
'She was hit around the head; inter-cranial bleeding behind the eyes indicates a single blow to the base of the skull- not hard enough to kill though. Apart from that, the body was too burned to really assess.'
'Thanks doc.' Warrick said, turning towards the door. Sara threw a shaky smile over her shoulder as she exited before him.
Sara had walked to the lab, Warrick following her, before she felt calm enough to speak. Greg's usual loud music filled the lab, making the windows shake in their holdings. Sara was in no mood for it, the headache beginning to form behind her eyes already settling in to it's own concocted beat. She pulled the plug from the wall, the lab settling into peaceful bliss immediately. Much better.
Greg whirled round, about to complain, but thought better when he saw who it was. 'Sara.my favourite CSI- I was looking for you.'
'Didn't look far, did you?' Sara answered. 'What you got?'
'All the hair samples are the same. I've done a DNA analysis, and run it, but nothings come back. The hair colour was peroxide blond.'
'Thanks Greg.' Sara said, as they walked out again, report in hand. They stepped into one of the labs, so they could discuss the case.
'Are you ok?' Warrick asked, concerned, once the door was firmly closed.
'Fine- just want to catch this son of a bitch.'
'I hear you.' Warrick agreed.
'So.' Sara started, spreading the paper reports on the table. 'The perp was someone who had access to a restricted acid.'
'Possibly interrupted, so couldn't finish the job he started- moved onto the quicker option of gasoline and a match.' Warrick added.
'None of this helps us.' Sara cried, letting out a frustrated sigh.
'Hey- it's all important.' Warrick said gently. 'Let's get hold of Brass- fill him in and see if he's got anything to add.'
They walked to the attached PD building, finding Brass at his desk, buried in paperwork. He wasn't about to say it to Sara, but when he looked up and saw the two of them, he was glad she wasn't having to work this one alone.
Warrick quickly filled him in about the acid, the details about the piece of paper, the fibres, and the DNA analysis had already been faxed over.
Brass went over his end, which took all of five seconds as they still hadn't come up with anything concrete. The identity of the woman was becoming more and more important to sustain anything concrete about this case.
That was why, as Warrick went back to the evidence they had collected to test for the presence of Hydrofluoric acid, Sara booted up the main computer in the CSI lab, and started sifting through missing persons. The peroxide blond hair colour helped a lot, and she searched within the parameters of under forty but above fifteen in age, and above 5' 6" in height. If that failed, she was going to start looking up sources of HF.
Working the computer allowed her to focus her thoughts, to get the feelings she apparently shouldn't be having under control. Whoever thought that they could do a job like this and not get emotionally involved simply couldn't be human. Grissom had lectured her more than once on getting too attached to the cases, but when it came to the dead victim, she was all they had left, and she was determined to do her best for them, to be their voice, to speak up on their behalf.
The victims always seemed to be the ones left behind. Whilst evidence was gathered, and theories tested, it was easy to forget that at the centre of it all, at the cause of all the investigation was a human who had no right being dead. Anyone who could know that, know what these people went through and not become even slightly emotional wasn't doing their job properly. Grissom could talk all he wanted about objectivity, but it didn't exist.
It couldn't exist.
As a person with any sort of feelings, it was impossible to look at something objectively, to not place a value or empathy on it. In a way, the collecting of evidence, the focus on the science was how they coped- because they were objective to an extent, they weren't a dead body lying out in the cold. Getting lost in the process was one way of not focusing on the emotions, on not going crazy that yet another person had lost their life because someone had decided, for whatever reason, they didn't deserve it anymore.
Now she had the worst kind of body. The one without the identity, without a face, without a name. The "Jane Doe". Sara hated these sorts of cases because it was so easy to get caught up in wondering who the person really was. The realm of possibility was enticing to think about, but didn't help with the investigation. Out there, somewhere, was a family who had lost someone in the most awful of situations, and yet had no idea. Were still cocooned with the hope. They could wonder why the phone wasn't answered, or why she wasn't at home. They could come up with scenarios, none of which it was likely, being that she had been tortured and burned, and now lay out on a steel table in a mortuary fridge. Hope was a potent emotion. Sara hated seeing it being destroyed, when they heard the news for the first time, when they realised that there was no hope left to be had. The person was dead, they wouldn't be coming home, they wouldn't be answering the phone, or driving up the road, or coming home from work, or doing the grocery shopping.
Sara had felt that grief, that incessant silence filled with nothing because suddenly there was nothing to be had- there was no hope.
The clicking of the down arrow on the keyboard filled the room, as Sara fought a losing battle with her mind to stop remembering.
The page came, just as Sara was getting ready to extend her search parameters. She recognised Brass's cellphone number, and dialled it quickly.
The static over the line made it hard to understand him at first. 'An abandoned car was found outside of town- dumped. The plates came back Fai McKinley. Peroxide blond, 5 ten, 120 pounds. Presumed missing. Dispatch is just getting the rest of the details.'
'We're on our way. What's the address?'
Quickly scribbling it down, Sara disposed of the formalities, and hung up the phone immediately, bursting in on Warrick, startling him.
'Got a lead.' She told him, not giving him a chance to respond, as with keys in hand, she raced to the parking lot. Warrick had to run to catch up, fearful that if he wasn't there, she would simply leave without him.
Sara filled him in on the details, as she raced the road, keeping to the limit of the speed limit even when she was cornering. Warrick wanted to tell her to calm down, but knew she wouldn't, that the case that a few minutes ago looked as cold as the body, had suddenly had the spark lit underneath it.
The adrenaline was contagious.
The Coroner was working on paperwork when they got to his domain. He looked up, a serious expression to his face. 'I found traces of this on her body.' He told them, handing over a report to Sara.
Sara quickly scanned the paper, picking out the chemical equation 'HF?'
'Hydrofluoric acid' Dr Robbins filled in. He stopped at the look that passed over Sara's face. 'I'm guessing you know what it does then.'
'Extremely corrosive, removes calcium from body tissues causing deep level burns.' Sara answered, her voice deliberately monotone, as she scanned the paper in front of her.
Warrick looked between her and the coroner. The coroner saw he didn't know what they were talking about, and filled in the blanks. 'It's an extremely hazardous material that even the slightest exposure on skin can cause a deep level burn. This substance was dilute to 75%, but anything above 50% would be enough to scar down to the bone.'
'Is that what killed her?'
'No- HF, untreated, would take a few days to kill- the time it would take to remove enough Calcium from the body to make nerve stimulation impossible. For whatever reason, after the HF had been applied, she was doused in gasoline and set alight. It probably made her death quicker.'
'A lot more painful though.' Sara added.
'Yes. It was concentrated around her hands, like they were dunked in liquid.'
'He tortured her before he killed her.' Sara murmured, her jaw setting as the anger washed through her.
The doctor waited a few moments for her to calm down before carrying on. 'There was a distinct smell coming from the body- like burning flesh but a lot more pungent.'
Sara nodded in agreement.
'That was caused by the interaction between HF and Gasoline.'
Sara turned away slightly, pacing the room, as she fought the memories of that smell.
'Would it have been enough to kill her in the end?' Warrick asked the coroner.
'Doubtful- she probably would have lost her hands, and maybe had paralysis to her arms, but it wouldn't have killed her. Especially if she had been treated- Calcium Gluconate can counteract the acid, effectively neutralising it.'
'Anything else?' Warrick asked, trying to move it along, for Sara's sake.
'She was hit around the head; inter-cranial bleeding behind the eyes indicates a single blow to the base of the skull- not hard enough to kill though. Apart from that, the body was too burned to really assess.'
'Thanks doc.' Warrick said, turning towards the door. Sara threw a shaky smile over her shoulder as she exited before him.
Sara had walked to the lab, Warrick following her, before she felt calm enough to speak. Greg's usual loud music filled the lab, making the windows shake in their holdings. Sara was in no mood for it, the headache beginning to form behind her eyes already settling in to it's own concocted beat. She pulled the plug from the wall, the lab settling into peaceful bliss immediately. Much better.
Greg whirled round, about to complain, but thought better when he saw who it was. 'Sara.my favourite CSI- I was looking for you.'
'Didn't look far, did you?' Sara answered. 'What you got?'
'All the hair samples are the same. I've done a DNA analysis, and run it, but nothings come back. The hair colour was peroxide blond.'
'Thanks Greg.' Sara said, as they walked out again, report in hand. They stepped into one of the labs, so they could discuss the case.
'Are you ok?' Warrick asked, concerned, once the door was firmly closed.
'Fine- just want to catch this son of a bitch.'
'I hear you.' Warrick agreed.
'So.' Sara started, spreading the paper reports on the table. 'The perp was someone who had access to a restricted acid.'
'Possibly interrupted, so couldn't finish the job he started- moved onto the quicker option of gasoline and a match.' Warrick added.
'None of this helps us.' Sara cried, letting out a frustrated sigh.
'Hey- it's all important.' Warrick said gently. 'Let's get hold of Brass- fill him in and see if he's got anything to add.'
They walked to the attached PD building, finding Brass at his desk, buried in paperwork. He wasn't about to say it to Sara, but when he looked up and saw the two of them, he was glad she wasn't having to work this one alone.
Warrick quickly filled him in about the acid, the details about the piece of paper, the fibres, and the DNA analysis had already been faxed over.
Brass went over his end, which took all of five seconds as they still hadn't come up with anything concrete. The identity of the woman was becoming more and more important to sustain anything concrete about this case.
That was why, as Warrick went back to the evidence they had collected to test for the presence of Hydrofluoric acid, Sara booted up the main computer in the CSI lab, and started sifting through missing persons. The peroxide blond hair colour helped a lot, and she searched within the parameters of under forty but above fifteen in age, and above 5' 6" in height. If that failed, she was going to start looking up sources of HF.
Working the computer allowed her to focus her thoughts, to get the feelings she apparently shouldn't be having under control. Whoever thought that they could do a job like this and not get emotionally involved simply couldn't be human. Grissom had lectured her more than once on getting too attached to the cases, but when it came to the dead victim, she was all they had left, and she was determined to do her best for them, to be their voice, to speak up on their behalf.
The victims always seemed to be the ones left behind. Whilst evidence was gathered, and theories tested, it was easy to forget that at the centre of it all, at the cause of all the investigation was a human who had no right being dead. Anyone who could know that, know what these people went through and not become even slightly emotional wasn't doing their job properly. Grissom could talk all he wanted about objectivity, but it didn't exist.
It couldn't exist.
As a person with any sort of feelings, it was impossible to look at something objectively, to not place a value or empathy on it. In a way, the collecting of evidence, the focus on the science was how they coped- because they were objective to an extent, they weren't a dead body lying out in the cold. Getting lost in the process was one way of not focusing on the emotions, on not going crazy that yet another person had lost their life because someone had decided, for whatever reason, they didn't deserve it anymore.
Now she had the worst kind of body. The one without the identity, without a face, without a name. The "Jane Doe". Sara hated these sorts of cases because it was so easy to get caught up in wondering who the person really was. The realm of possibility was enticing to think about, but didn't help with the investigation. Out there, somewhere, was a family who had lost someone in the most awful of situations, and yet had no idea. Were still cocooned with the hope. They could wonder why the phone wasn't answered, or why she wasn't at home. They could come up with scenarios, none of which it was likely, being that she had been tortured and burned, and now lay out on a steel table in a mortuary fridge. Hope was a potent emotion. Sara hated seeing it being destroyed, when they heard the news for the first time, when they realised that there was no hope left to be had. The person was dead, they wouldn't be coming home, they wouldn't be answering the phone, or driving up the road, or coming home from work, or doing the grocery shopping.
Sara had felt that grief, that incessant silence filled with nothing because suddenly there was nothing to be had- there was no hope.
The clicking of the down arrow on the keyboard filled the room, as Sara fought a losing battle with her mind to stop remembering.
The page came, just as Sara was getting ready to extend her search parameters. She recognised Brass's cellphone number, and dialled it quickly.
The static over the line made it hard to understand him at first. 'An abandoned car was found outside of town- dumped. The plates came back Fai McKinley. Peroxide blond, 5 ten, 120 pounds. Presumed missing. Dispatch is just getting the rest of the details.'
'We're on our way. What's the address?'
Quickly scribbling it down, Sara disposed of the formalities, and hung up the phone immediately, bursting in on Warrick, startling him.
'Got a lead.' She told him, not giving him a chance to respond, as with keys in hand, she raced to the parking lot. Warrick had to run to catch up, fearful that if he wasn't there, she would simply leave without him.
Sara filled him in on the details, as she raced the road, keeping to the limit of the speed limit even when she was cornering. Warrick wanted to tell her to calm down, but knew she wouldn't, that the case that a few minutes ago looked as cold as the body, had suddenly had the spark lit underneath it.
The adrenaline was contagious.