This story is based on characters created by Anthony E. Zuiker for the television series CSI: Crime Scene Investigation.

Remuneration, Part 2
by Cheers

The parking lot of the We-Store-It franchise on the corner of N. Eastern and Hincle was filled with the usual circus lights. Several police cruisers and a Rescue Squad truck were parked and their occupants were standing around in small groups talking about what was probably the usual bullshit: who got promoted last, reprimanded last, laid last. Grissom pulled his Tahoe into the lot and parked behind the unmarked sedan he knew belonged to Jim Brass. He didn't have his door all the way open before he saw that Brass was moving toward him.

"Didn't take you long to get here," Jim said as he reached the driver's side door of the SUV.

"No traffic," Gil shrugged as he shut the door and turned to face the detective. Looking past the milling crowd of officers, he nodded toward the stretch of storage units that were housed in three single story buildings that ran parallel to each other and extended back several hundred feet from the north end of the parking lot. "Which unit is it?"

"Seventy-one," Brass told him, following his gaze. "It's down the second row there." Both men turned toward the indicated alley that separated the individual buildings and began to walk toward the unit in question.

"Is there a body inside?" Gil asked, curiosity rousing the investigator in him.

"Don't know," Jim replied. "No one's gotten that far. This was a standard call as far as that goes. The owners filed a lien on the unit after the people who rented the space failed to pay the storage fee for over ninety days. It's standard procedure to have the police present when the unit is opened after a non-paying complaint. The first patrolman on the scene took one look and a whiff and called the Rescue Squad. They say they aren't going near the unit until they know exactly what they're dealing with."

Grissom's brow furrowed. "So why are you here?"

Jim looked at his friend sideways. "I happen to know this geek guy who's really into bugs," he said dryly.

Gil had to grin at that. "Yeah."

Unit 71 was the tenth unit on the east side of the second storage building. Each unit was fronted by an aluminum door that rolled up on a track like an average garage door. The door to this particular unit was already raised about an inch. Gil could smell the weak yet very distinct odor of death. The pavement in front of the door seemed to shimmer slightly in the pale light from the exterior lamp affixed to the top of the building's façade across and two units down from the one in question. Turning on his flashlight, Grissom aimed the beam at the ground and bent down to take a closer look. What met his eye was an unusual sight, but one he immediately understood.

"We'll need a vacuum," Gil said over his shoulder without looking up. He took a few steps along the front of the unit and crouched down to get an estimate of the number of individuals he was seeing. Perhaps three dozen, he estimated. And that was just on the outside of the door. No telling how many there would be on the inside.

"A vacuum?" Brass asked incredulously.

Gil looked up at the detective. Jim had stopped at least five feet away from the door to the storage unit in question. It never ceased to amaze Gil how easily a grown man with courage enough to carry a loaded weapon and put his life in danger every day on the job could be so frightened of the very insects he found so fascinating.

At the look on Grissom's face, Brass knew he had heard right. "You mean an industrial vacuum, right? Not a dustbuster?" There was more than a little wishful thinking in his question.

The sidelong look Gil gave him told Brass his poorly contained revulsion at the creepy crawlies he could see from several feet away did not go unnoticed. Gil replied, "An industrial vacuum will do nicely."

"Mind telling me what those things are?" Jim asked.

"Pholcidae," Gil informed him. "Cellar spiders. And there's a lot of them."

"Poisonous?" the detective wanted to know.

"Not really," he said, still trying to look under the edge of the door. "All spiders can bite. The venom of cellar spiders will cause localized pain and swelling but it won't cause the necrosis or ulcerations that other spiders can cause. A vacuum should clear out the ones we can see and any that lie under the door. Once we open the door we'll be able to see what's inside that they find so attractive."

It took Brass several minutes to get the Rescue Squad's vacuum rounded up and brought to the doorway of the storage unit. A Rescue Squad member in full protective gear (the man wasn't so sure the spiders were as harmless as Grissom said they were) ran the vacuum hose along the opened edge of the door several times. That done, everyone stood back and left raising the door the remainder of the way up to Gil.

A flood lamp had been set up just outside the unit and the beam aimed directly at the door. After donning a pair of latex gloves, Gil reached under the door and pulled upwards. The door opened with a creaking sound and rolled up and over the rails that were mounted on the sides and inside ceiling of the storage unit. The flood lamp illuminated the entire interior. Wispy threads of spider web hung down from the edge of the door and minute particles of dust danced in the light's beam.

"Holy Mother of…" a patrolman muttered.

"Looks like the mob hasn't left town after all," Brass said to no one in particular.

What they found was a nearly empty unit with a single overstuffed chair sitting in the center. Seated in the chair was the decomposing body of what, by the suit it was wearing, appeared to be a man. The body was crawling with bugs. A number of flies were swarming about the body as well. It was only a few seconds before the full force of the odor from the corpse wafted out of the unit and struck everyone. Only Grissom seemed immune to the stench.

"Well," Gil remarked, "if not why, we at least know where the spider ate the fly."