1 Chapter Three: The Missing Pieces
"We've got to put all the pieces of this puzzle together, before someone else gets killed."
Grissom, Catherine, Sara, Nick, and Warrick were all looking very frustrated. They just wanted this to be over.
"What do we have?" Grissom asked the group.
"Three victims, with no known connections except their birthdays – but not the year – and the color of their hair."
"Their eyes were removed from their skulls and placed into the next victim's eye sockets."
"We ran a test on the holes in the eyes – they were removed with corkscrews."
"Oh, that's just sick."
"What about the killer? Do we know anything about him?"
"For starters, we don't know if the killer is a him or a her. We know the killer is smart. The killer uses plastic gloves, and every crime scene has been cleaned very professionally."
"The killer can walk on his hands for a very long time and he or she can turn cartwheels."
"Cartwheels?"
"Remember, the pattern of hands and feet outside of the hotels? They were formed by doing a series of cartwheels."
Silence engulfed the room.
"So, all we have is cartwheels and corkscrews?"
"No," said Sara. "We have something else."
"Sara," Catherine spoke up for the first time, stopping Sara.
"My birthday…" Catherine trailed off and took a deep breath. "March 26, 1963. It's my birthday."
"We've got to put all the pieces of this puzzle together, before someone else gets killed."
Grissom, Catherine, Sara, Nick, and Warrick were all looking very frustrated. They just wanted this to be over.
"What do we have?" Grissom asked the group.
"Three victims, with no known connections except their birthdays – but not the year – and the color of their hair."
"Their eyes were removed from their skulls and placed into the next victim's eye sockets."
"We ran a test on the holes in the eyes – they were removed with corkscrews."
"Oh, that's just sick."
"What about the killer? Do we know anything about him?"
"For starters, we don't know if the killer is a him or a her. We know the killer is smart. The killer uses plastic gloves, and every crime scene has been cleaned very professionally."
"The killer can walk on his hands for a very long time and he or she can turn cartwheels."
"Cartwheels?"
"Remember, the pattern of hands and feet outside of the hotels? They were formed by doing a series of cartwheels."
Silence engulfed the room.
"So, all we have is cartwheels and corkscrews?"
"No," said Sara. "We have something else."
"Sara," Catherine spoke up for the first time, stopping Sara.
"My birthday…" Catherine trailed off and took a deep breath. "March 26, 1963. It's my birthday."