1 Chapter Seven: Secrets
"Catherine, we can't get him for this, and you know it," Grissom told her gently.
"Damn it, Gil, we have to!"
"He's only admitted to setting fire to his mother's house."
"Let me talk to him."
"Catherine, are you sure you can do this?"
"Damn it, Gil, don't mess with me."
"Fine." Grissom stepped aside and let Catherine into the room with Kyle and his lawyer.
"Do you admit to setting your mother's house on fire?"
Kyle looked at his lawyer, who nodded. "Yes."
"Did you know your mother was inside?"
"Yes."
"Did you kill your mother?"
"No."
Catherine took a deep breath. "Do you know who did?"
"Yes."
"Who?"
"I'm afraid I cannot tell you."
"Why not?"
"I have my reasons."
"Fine. Did you kill Tamara Richards?"
"Who? I never killed anybody."
"Did you kill Elizabeth Martin?"
"I told you, I didn't kill anyone."
"Did you kill Antoinette McPherson?"
"Catherine, I have never heard of these people! I have not killed anyone! Ever! What's going on?"
He was so insistent that Catherine suddenly believed him.
"Damn it," she muttered. "Who killed your mother, Kyle?"
"I can't tell you."
"Why did you burn your mother's house down?"
"To cover for the person who murdered my mother."
Catherine blanched. Kyle's lawyer put his head in his hands.
"What?" Catherine blinked, unbelieving.
"I set fire to my mother's home because I felt that it was necessary to cover for the person who killed my mother and I thought that the fire would destroy any evidence. Unfortunately, it did not."
"Kyle," his lawyer said in a warning tone.
"Shut up. I don't like you," Kyle said back, without looking away from Catherine's steady gaze.
"Kyle," Catherine said pleadingly, "who killed your mother?"
"Catherine, I have been covering for this person for years. I will not stop now."
"Fine," Catherine said in frustration, and left the room.
"Catherine?" Grissom had been listening outside the room.
"I can't believe this," Catherine said slowly. "We have the wrong guy."
Grissom opened his mouth to respond, but his cell phone rang. He looked at Catherine apologetically as he answered.
"Grissom. ... What? … No, we have him here. … Yes, of course. … We'll be right there."
Grissom turned to Catherine. "It's another one."
"What? Another one? You mean…another murder?"
"Yes. Brass said there's something new at the scene. Go get Sara. We're leaving now."
It was eerie in the hotel room. The crime was the same. The evidence was the same. Sara had already begun looking for the handprints. A beautiful young blonde sat on the couch, facing away from the door. Catherine and Grissom rounded the couch to look at the face. The shredded skin and blooded face no longer shocked Catherine. The eyes no longer shocked her. The eyes that belonged to someone else. The eyes that were removed by a corkscrew. There was only one difference. And Grissom saw it first.
"Catherine. Catherine, it's the…murder weapon."
"The corkscrew?" Catherine whirled around.
On the end table sat a bonsai tree in a small clay pot. Underneath the tree was a red apple. In the apple was a corkscrew.
"Oh my gosh. We have the murder weapon."
"I don't think so," said Grissom, starring at the arrangement. "Do you see it, Catherine?"
"See what?" All Catherine saw was a murder weapon carelessly left at the crime scene.
"Do you remember how Paul Milander put my thumbprint under his?"
"Yes, of course," Catherine was getting ticked off. Grissom was so annoying sometimes. What did that have to do with anything?
"Well, this is something like that. I don't think this is the murder weapon. It's probably the one from room service or something. We'll have to test it, of course, to be sure."
"Get to the point, Grissom."
"Look. It's an apple. Under a tree."
"Grissom!"
"Catherine?" Catherine controlled the urge to smack him. God, he was frustrating.
"It means," Grissom said slowly, "'the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.' Do you see it now?"
Catherine saw. "But what does it mean?"
"I'm not sure yet."
Catherine closed her eyes. Wonderful. "I'm going to speak with Kyle. He knows something."
"Kyle," Catherine began slowly. "I…I'm sorry. I jumped to conclusions."
Kyle raised an eyebrow cautiously.
"This is what happened. A serial killer has been on a killing spree. Four women are dead. These women have two things in common. They are blonde and they were born on March 26."
Kyle sucked in his breath. He knew that date.
"The killer gouged each woman's eyes out with a corkscrew –" Kyle shuddered slightly. "– and replaced them with the eyes of the previous victim. The first victim was found without eyes. Each victim was set up to look as if they were sitting normally. The only evidence of violence is the face. The killer exited the crime scene by walking on his hands and cartwheeling outside of the buildings until the prints disappeared." Kyle's eyes widened slightly. He knew something. "The killer wore rubber gloves and plastic bags over his shoes. At the last crime scene we found a red apple with a corkscrew in it placed under a bonsai tree. Grissom believes this means 'the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.' Can you help us?"
Kyle blinked a few times. "You shouldn't jump to conclusions, Catherine. Haven't you learned that?"
"What conclusions?"
"You said the killer was male."
"I did?"
"You used the pronouns 'he' and 'his' and 'him.'"
"Oh."
"And Catherine? I'm not an only child."
"Catherine, we can't get him for this, and you know it," Grissom told her gently.
"Damn it, Gil, we have to!"
"He's only admitted to setting fire to his mother's house."
"Let me talk to him."
"Catherine, are you sure you can do this?"
"Damn it, Gil, don't mess with me."
"Fine." Grissom stepped aside and let Catherine into the room with Kyle and his lawyer.
"Do you admit to setting your mother's house on fire?"
Kyle looked at his lawyer, who nodded. "Yes."
"Did you know your mother was inside?"
"Yes."
"Did you kill your mother?"
"No."
Catherine took a deep breath. "Do you know who did?"
"Yes."
"Who?"
"I'm afraid I cannot tell you."
"Why not?"
"I have my reasons."
"Fine. Did you kill Tamara Richards?"
"Who? I never killed anybody."
"Did you kill Elizabeth Martin?"
"I told you, I didn't kill anyone."
"Did you kill Antoinette McPherson?"
"Catherine, I have never heard of these people! I have not killed anyone! Ever! What's going on?"
He was so insistent that Catherine suddenly believed him.
"Damn it," she muttered. "Who killed your mother, Kyle?"
"I can't tell you."
"Why did you burn your mother's house down?"
"To cover for the person who murdered my mother."
Catherine blanched. Kyle's lawyer put his head in his hands.
"What?" Catherine blinked, unbelieving.
"I set fire to my mother's home because I felt that it was necessary to cover for the person who killed my mother and I thought that the fire would destroy any evidence. Unfortunately, it did not."
"Kyle," his lawyer said in a warning tone.
"Shut up. I don't like you," Kyle said back, without looking away from Catherine's steady gaze.
"Kyle," Catherine said pleadingly, "who killed your mother?"
"Catherine, I have been covering for this person for years. I will not stop now."
"Fine," Catherine said in frustration, and left the room.
"Catherine?" Grissom had been listening outside the room.
"I can't believe this," Catherine said slowly. "We have the wrong guy."
Grissom opened his mouth to respond, but his cell phone rang. He looked at Catherine apologetically as he answered.
"Grissom. ... What? … No, we have him here. … Yes, of course. … We'll be right there."
Grissom turned to Catherine. "It's another one."
"What? Another one? You mean…another murder?"
"Yes. Brass said there's something new at the scene. Go get Sara. We're leaving now."
It was eerie in the hotel room. The crime was the same. The evidence was the same. Sara had already begun looking for the handprints. A beautiful young blonde sat on the couch, facing away from the door. Catherine and Grissom rounded the couch to look at the face. The shredded skin and blooded face no longer shocked Catherine. The eyes no longer shocked her. The eyes that belonged to someone else. The eyes that were removed by a corkscrew. There was only one difference. And Grissom saw it first.
"Catherine. Catherine, it's the…murder weapon."
"The corkscrew?" Catherine whirled around.
On the end table sat a bonsai tree in a small clay pot. Underneath the tree was a red apple. In the apple was a corkscrew.
"Oh my gosh. We have the murder weapon."
"I don't think so," said Grissom, starring at the arrangement. "Do you see it, Catherine?"
"See what?" All Catherine saw was a murder weapon carelessly left at the crime scene.
"Do you remember how Paul Milander put my thumbprint under his?"
"Yes, of course," Catherine was getting ticked off. Grissom was so annoying sometimes. What did that have to do with anything?
"Well, this is something like that. I don't think this is the murder weapon. It's probably the one from room service or something. We'll have to test it, of course, to be sure."
"Get to the point, Grissom."
"Look. It's an apple. Under a tree."
"Grissom!"
"Catherine?" Catherine controlled the urge to smack him. God, he was frustrating.
"It means," Grissom said slowly, "'the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.' Do you see it now?"
Catherine saw. "But what does it mean?"
"I'm not sure yet."
Catherine closed her eyes. Wonderful. "I'm going to speak with Kyle. He knows something."
"Kyle," Catherine began slowly. "I…I'm sorry. I jumped to conclusions."
Kyle raised an eyebrow cautiously.
"This is what happened. A serial killer has been on a killing spree. Four women are dead. These women have two things in common. They are blonde and they were born on March 26."
Kyle sucked in his breath. He knew that date.
"The killer gouged each woman's eyes out with a corkscrew –" Kyle shuddered slightly. "– and replaced them with the eyes of the previous victim. The first victim was found without eyes. Each victim was set up to look as if they were sitting normally. The only evidence of violence is the face. The killer exited the crime scene by walking on his hands and cartwheeling outside of the buildings until the prints disappeared." Kyle's eyes widened slightly. He knew something. "The killer wore rubber gloves and plastic bags over his shoes. At the last crime scene we found a red apple with a corkscrew in it placed under a bonsai tree. Grissom believes this means 'the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.' Can you help us?"
Kyle blinked a few times. "You shouldn't jump to conclusions, Catherine. Haven't you learned that?"
"What conclusions?"
"You said the killer was male."
"I did?"
"You used the pronouns 'he' and 'his' and 'him.'"
"Oh."
"And Catherine? I'm not an only child."