III - SUCTION
"Mr. van der Brucke, you say you left the penthouse for a business meeting around 6:00, and your wife was getting ready to go shopping with her friend?" Catherine's voice was carefully neutral as she spoke with the shaken man.
"Yes - I left at 6:00, returned around 10:30 and found the open safe in the library. Do you think - was Audra still alive when I came back? If I had gone to check her safe, I would have found her. She would still be alive." The older man was barely managing to speak. In the last 20 minutes, Catherine had watched him age 20 years. She squeezed his hand gently, eyes contacting with Grissom and Brass as they walked into the penthouse. Behind them, the odious Mr. Miles, was wringing his hands ineffectually, muttering under his breath about the hotel's reputation. Catherine wanted to slap him.
"You don't know that, Mr. van der Brucke. We've called the coroner - he'll be here soon, and he'll be able to tell us more."
"Did the young man you were with cover her, as I asked? She needs to be - she wouldn't like anyone seeing her like that, just a robe, no clothes -" he trailed off, eyes tearing. "I was supposed to die before her."
"We can't cover her, Mr. van der Brucke, until we've processed the crime scene. I'm sorry. Do you have Marta's phone number? We'll need to speak with her, find out if you're wife met her or not. Her clothing didn't appear to be touched."
"Marta's number is stored in my cell phone," the older man reached for the suit jacket he had slung hours ago over the sofa, and pulled it out of his pocket, "Number 9."
"Thank you, Mr. van der Brucke. I need to talk to my colleagues for a minute. Will you be all right by yourself?"
"I will never be all right again," he whispered softly, as Catherine turned away from him.
* * * * *
"I wondered what this place looked like inside," David the coroner mumbled at Warrick when he arrived, smiling faintly, "Two times in one night - I had the jumper from earlier."
He crouched down, hands running gently over her form, compulsively checking for her pulse even though he knew he wouldn't find one. "She's a pretty girl. What a shame."
Warrick sighed in agreement, "Her husband is in shock."
He watched as David quickly performed a couple of tests, taking a temperature reading from the body and noting it down in his book. "You already take your photos?" When Warrick nodded, he grunted, "Good. Help me roll her over, and let's check this out."
Very carefully the two men worked together to roll her over, David gently loosening the ties of her robe. "She bled out - the bullet hit something major. Judging from the bullet hole, I'd say liver." Quickly adjusting the robe to cover her up, Warrick sighed.
"When do you think she died?"
David looked at the body temperature he had recorded. "Well, based on average body temperature, and using simple math, I'd say place time of death between 9:00 and 10:00."
"That's good," Warrick sighed, noticing David's startled look. "Her husband told Catherine he didn't get back until 10:30, but he never came into the bedroom. If she were my wife, I'd be wondering if I could have saved her. At least I'll be able to tell him even if he had found her, it was too late. That should count for something."
* * * * *
"These are heavy duty suction cups, Sara," Nick muttered as he pulled them out of his field kit, "just look at them."
"Why didn't they go with our burglar, though? I'm trying to figure out how he could fall but leave those behind." Sara sighed in irritation and shook her head, "and what type of fool decides to strap these on to scale an 80 story building? How do you discover you have an aptitude for something like that?"
Behind her, Greg snorted. He had been happy to see Nick and Sara arrive with their field kits, because he had been bored. Now that they were back, there was something for him to do - and from the sounds of it, with Catherine, Warrick and Grissom at another crime scene, there would be even more later on.
"What's in his tool bag?" he asked. Nick and Sara looked at him, and Sara shook her head.
"No tool bag, Greg. Just him. We don't even have ID."
Greg sighed, "You say he's a cat-burglar, so I understand the ID thing, but why no tools? Where was he going, or coming from. He was on the outside of the building - how was he planning on getting in? No self respecting thief is going to go into a job without the proper tools - glass cutter, maybe? There has to be something."
Nick grinned, "and you base this on what - your secret life as a cat- burglar?"
Greg merely rolled his eyes, "I watch movies you know - like 'Entrapment' - that one with Sean Connery and my future wife, Catherine Zeta-Jones? Or that one with Pierce Brosnan and Rene Russo and the see-through dress?"
"Future wife, eh? In your dreams, Greggo," Sara teased.
"You betcha. In my dreams - her and Rene! Seriously though, it doesn't make sense."
Nick nodded at Greg consideringly, "You're right. This doesn't add up - we've missed something, somewhere."
"Well, let's go with what we have and wait for Grissom. Do you want to process this, and I'll go talk to Robbins, or do you want to go with?" Sara interrupted.
"Go ahead. Greg can run the blood, get us some DNA and a blood type. I'll get this stuff listed -I'll try to lift some prints off the suctions here, and see if I can ID him, but get us another sample off the body, will you - just in case."
"Sure thing. Catch you later, guys."
* * * * *
"I'd like to be able to tell you he died from the fall, but he was on his way out before he hit the pavement Sara," Robbins greeted her as she walked into the morgue.
"What are you talking about?" she snapped her latex gloves loudly, eyeing Robbins askance as she approached the man stretched out on the autopsy table.
"You can see for yourself. There - just above his ribcage. Bullet wound. Someone shot him. Bullet went downwards, through a lung, nicked the spleen and lodged in his intestines. Of course, all his ribs are broken now, both legs, arms - the fall would have killed him on its own."
"But he was still alive when he hit the pavement."
"So, the fall contributed to his death, but wasn't the initial cause. This guy would have died from the gunshot wound."
Sara sighed, "Well, this is great. Did you retrieve the bullet?"
"Right here, waiting for you."
"What do you make about the mark on his hand?"
Robbins shrugged, "It looks like a strap."
Sara grinned suddenly, "Right. Strap. Of course! Thanks Dr. Robbins - can I get the final report from you later?"
Robbins nodded absently, already turning back to the body. "Don't forget the bullet."
* * * * *
"Mr. van der Brucke, why don't you come into the library with Grissom and I," Catherine knelt gingerly in front of the older man, trying to get him to focus on something other than his own pain. Warrick had informed them a few minutes ago that David was ready to move Audra out, and Catherine didn't want him standing there as his wife was wheeled out in a body bag.
"Please, call me Willem," he replied, allowing her to lead him into the library. He didn't even look towards the empty safe, "Mr. van der Brucke is such a mouthful."
"Fine, Willem. Thank you." Catherine indicated Grissom, who was at the safe fingerprinting the area, "This is Gil Grissom - you may have seen him arrive earlier? He'll need to talk with you. Why don't you sit here? Grissom, this is Willem van der Brucke."
Grissom turned to the man and nodded at him, "I'm sorry for your loss. Do you feel up to going to the police station with Catherine and speaking with us some more? We need to find out as much as possible about the nature of your business trip; how many people know what you had in the safes at the hotel."
"I didn't speak of it to anyone," Willem sighed, "I never do. How could something like this happen?"
"I can't comment on our theories right now, but I think you're wife may have surprised - or been surprised - by a cat burglar."
Catherine looked at Grissom in surprise - this was news to her. *Cat burglar*, she mouthed at Grissom, but he shook his head at her - clearly indicating he'd tell her later.
"Brass, I'm going to finish up here with Warrick. Will you escort Catherine and Willem back to the station?"
* * * * *
"You're never going to believe this," Sara muttered as she walked back into the lab where Nick was sitting, "our burglar? He was shot."
Nick looked up, "Shot? Really? That's interesting. I figured out what caused the mark on his hand."
"Yeah - so did I. Straps on the suction cup."
"Keep on stealing my thunder Sara, and I won't be your friend anymore," Nick teased. "You may know it was the strap on the cup, but do you know why it's only on one hand?"
Sara grinned, shrugging, "I'm sure you'll tell me."
"Well, you see this?" he held up one of the cups, pointing out the heavy duty strapping to Sara; smiling when she squinted at it.
"Looks like it's broken away on this side from the cup."
"Didn't break away - it was sliced part way through. Someone tampered with it."
"And?"
Nick smiled, "Well, my theory is this, and it works better now that I know he was shot. I think he was working with someone. Someone who wanted him dead. They were responsible for the robbery / murder everyone else is at now. On their way down, his partner shot him."
Sara nodded as she listened, "So, the blood we found on the outside of the building is his - he tried to get down, but couldn't. Maybe he passed out, stuck to the side of the hotel like spiderman. The strap on the left side was compromised. Our guy would have been like dead-weight, the strap would have broken."
"He would have been hanging there by one hand and his feet - hence the bruising from the pressure of the strap. From what I've been able to get from it, it's full of epithelials and blood - so, his hand eventually came loose. He couldn't hang there by his feet - they came loose as well. He fell."
"And his partner had the loot, and the tools of the trade." Sara grinned, "Sounds plausible to me."
"I'm amazed those suckers - no pun intended, didn't come loose and fall with him," Nick muttered.
"It's all about the suction, Nicky, all about the suction," Sara responded.
Greg, walking into the evidence room where Sara and Nick were talking, started to laugh, "So many things in life are!"
Nick grunted, "You've fallen in the gutter, man."
"Champagne!" Greg chortled.
______________
Author's note: hey, hey, hey - now we're cooking with gas. Things are processing nicely. I forget who challenged me to quote Geek's signature over at www.sinceimetyou.com - but, there you go. Fun times, fun, fun times.
"Mr. van der Brucke, you say you left the penthouse for a business meeting around 6:00, and your wife was getting ready to go shopping with her friend?" Catherine's voice was carefully neutral as she spoke with the shaken man.
"Yes - I left at 6:00, returned around 10:30 and found the open safe in the library. Do you think - was Audra still alive when I came back? If I had gone to check her safe, I would have found her. She would still be alive." The older man was barely managing to speak. In the last 20 minutes, Catherine had watched him age 20 years. She squeezed his hand gently, eyes contacting with Grissom and Brass as they walked into the penthouse. Behind them, the odious Mr. Miles, was wringing his hands ineffectually, muttering under his breath about the hotel's reputation. Catherine wanted to slap him.
"You don't know that, Mr. van der Brucke. We've called the coroner - he'll be here soon, and he'll be able to tell us more."
"Did the young man you were with cover her, as I asked? She needs to be - she wouldn't like anyone seeing her like that, just a robe, no clothes -" he trailed off, eyes tearing. "I was supposed to die before her."
"We can't cover her, Mr. van der Brucke, until we've processed the crime scene. I'm sorry. Do you have Marta's phone number? We'll need to speak with her, find out if you're wife met her or not. Her clothing didn't appear to be touched."
"Marta's number is stored in my cell phone," the older man reached for the suit jacket he had slung hours ago over the sofa, and pulled it out of his pocket, "Number 9."
"Thank you, Mr. van der Brucke. I need to talk to my colleagues for a minute. Will you be all right by yourself?"
"I will never be all right again," he whispered softly, as Catherine turned away from him.
* * * * *
"I wondered what this place looked like inside," David the coroner mumbled at Warrick when he arrived, smiling faintly, "Two times in one night - I had the jumper from earlier."
He crouched down, hands running gently over her form, compulsively checking for her pulse even though he knew he wouldn't find one. "She's a pretty girl. What a shame."
Warrick sighed in agreement, "Her husband is in shock."
He watched as David quickly performed a couple of tests, taking a temperature reading from the body and noting it down in his book. "You already take your photos?" When Warrick nodded, he grunted, "Good. Help me roll her over, and let's check this out."
Very carefully the two men worked together to roll her over, David gently loosening the ties of her robe. "She bled out - the bullet hit something major. Judging from the bullet hole, I'd say liver." Quickly adjusting the robe to cover her up, Warrick sighed.
"When do you think she died?"
David looked at the body temperature he had recorded. "Well, based on average body temperature, and using simple math, I'd say place time of death between 9:00 and 10:00."
"That's good," Warrick sighed, noticing David's startled look. "Her husband told Catherine he didn't get back until 10:30, but he never came into the bedroom. If she were my wife, I'd be wondering if I could have saved her. At least I'll be able to tell him even if he had found her, it was too late. That should count for something."
* * * * *
"These are heavy duty suction cups, Sara," Nick muttered as he pulled them out of his field kit, "just look at them."
"Why didn't they go with our burglar, though? I'm trying to figure out how he could fall but leave those behind." Sara sighed in irritation and shook her head, "and what type of fool decides to strap these on to scale an 80 story building? How do you discover you have an aptitude for something like that?"
Behind her, Greg snorted. He had been happy to see Nick and Sara arrive with their field kits, because he had been bored. Now that they were back, there was something for him to do - and from the sounds of it, with Catherine, Warrick and Grissom at another crime scene, there would be even more later on.
"What's in his tool bag?" he asked. Nick and Sara looked at him, and Sara shook her head.
"No tool bag, Greg. Just him. We don't even have ID."
Greg sighed, "You say he's a cat-burglar, so I understand the ID thing, but why no tools? Where was he going, or coming from. He was on the outside of the building - how was he planning on getting in? No self respecting thief is going to go into a job without the proper tools - glass cutter, maybe? There has to be something."
Nick grinned, "and you base this on what - your secret life as a cat- burglar?"
Greg merely rolled his eyes, "I watch movies you know - like 'Entrapment' - that one with Sean Connery and my future wife, Catherine Zeta-Jones? Or that one with Pierce Brosnan and Rene Russo and the see-through dress?"
"Future wife, eh? In your dreams, Greggo," Sara teased.
"You betcha. In my dreams - her and Rene! Seriously though, it doesn't make sense."
Nick nodded at Greg consideringly, "You're right. This doesn't add up - we've missed something, somewhere."
"Well, let's go with what we have and wait for Grissom. Do you want to process this, and I'll go talk to Robbins, or do you want to go with?" Sara interrupted.
"Go ahead. Greg can run the blood, get us some DNA and a blood type. I'll get this stuff listed -I'll try to lift some prints off the suctions here, and see if I can ID him, but get us another sample off the body, will you - just in case."
"Sure thing. Catch you later, guys."
* * * * *
"I'd like to be able to tell you he died from the fall, but he was on his way out before he hit the pavement Sara," Robbins greeted her as she walked into the morgue.
"What are you talking about?" she snapped her latex gloves loudly, eyeing Robbins askance as she approached the man stretched out on the autopsy table.
"You can see for yourself. There - just above his ribcage. Bullet wound. Someone shot him. Bullet went downwards, through a lung, nicked the spleen and lodged in his intestines. Of course, all his ribs are broken now, both legs, arms - the fall would have killed him on its own."
"But he was still alive when he hit the pavement."
"So, the fall contributed to his death, but wasn't the initial cause. This guy would have died from the gunshot wound."
Sara sighed, "Well, this is great. Did you retrieve the bullet?"
"Right here, waiting for you."
"What do you make about the mark on his hand?"
Robbins shrugged, "It looks like a strap."
Sara grinned suddenly, "Right. Strap. Of course! Thanks Dr. Robbins - can I get the final report from you later?"
Robbins nodded absently, already turning back to the body. "Don't forget the bullet."
* * * * *
"Mr. van der Brucke, why don't you come into the library with Grissom and I," Catherine knelt gingerly in front of the older man, trying to get him to focus on something other than his own pain. Warrick had informed them a few minutes ago that David was ready to move Audra out, and Catherine didn't want him standing there as his wife was wheeled out in a body bag.
"Please, call me Willem," he replied, allowing her to lead him into the library. He didn't even look towards the empty safe, "Mr. van der Brucke is such a mouthful."
"Fine, Willem. Thank you." Catherine indicated Grissom, who was at the safe fingerprinting the area, "This is Gil Grissom - you may have seen him arrive earlier? He'll need to talk with you. Why don't you sit here? Grissom, this is Willem van der Brucke."
Grissom turned to the man and nodded at him, "I'm sorry for your loss. Do you feel up to going to the police station with Catherine and speaking with us some more? We need to find out as much as possible about the nature of your business trip; how many people know what you had in the safes at the hotel."
"I didn't speak of it to anyone," Willem sighed, "I never do. How could something like this happen?"
"I can't comment on our theories right now, but I think you're wife may have surprised - or been surprised - by a cat burglar."
Catherine looked at Grissom in surprise - this was news to her. *Cat burglar*, she mouthed at Grissom, but he shook his head at her - clearly indicating he'd tell her later.
"Brass, I'm going to finish up here with Warrick. Will you escort Catherine and Willem back to the station?"
* * * * *
"You're never going to believe this," Sara muttered as she walked back into the lab where Nick was sitting, "our burglar? He was shot."
Nick looked up, "Shot? Really? That's interesting. I figured out what caused the mark on his hand."
"Yeah - so did I. Straps on the suction cup."
"Keep on stealing my thunder Sara, and I won't be your friend anymore," Nick teased. "You may know it was the strap on the cup, but do you know why it's only on one hand?"
Sara grinned, shrugging, "I'm sure you'll tell me."
"Well, you see this?" he held up one of the cups, pointing out the heavy duty strapping to Sara; smiling when she squinted at it.
"Looks like it's broken away on this side from the cup."
"Didn't break away - it was sliced part way through. Someone tampered with it."
"And?"
Nick smiled, "Well, my theory is this, and it works better now that I know he was shot. I think he was working with someone. Someone who wanted him dead. They were responsible for the robbery / murder everyone else is at now. On their way down, his partner shot him."
Sara nodded as she listened, "So, the blood we found on the outside of the building is his - he tried to get down, but couldn't. Maybe he passed out, stuck to the side of the hotel like spiderman. The strap on the left side was compromised. Our guy would have been like dead-weight, the strap would have broken."
"He would have been hanging there by one hand and his feet - hence the bruising from the pressure of the strap. From what I've been able to get from it, it's full of epithelials and blood - so, his hand eventually came loose. He couldn't hang there by his feet - they came loose as well. He fell."
"And his partner had the loot, and the tools of the trade." Sara grinned, "Sounds plausible to me."
"I'm amazed those suckers - no pun intended, didn't come loose and fall with him," Nick muttered.
"It's all about the suction, Nicky, all about the suction," Sara responded.
Greg, walking into the evidence room where Sara and Nick were talking, started to laugh, "So many things in life are!"
Nick grunted, "You've fallen in the gutter, man."
"Champagne!" Greg chortled.
______________
Author's note: hey, hey, hey - now we're cooking with gas. Things are processing nicely. I forget who challenged me to quote Geek's signature over at www.sinceimetyou.com - but, there you go. Fun times, fun, fun times.