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

Remuneration, Part 10
by Cheers

Detective Paulson drove to the condominium complex where the victim, now known to be the missing Danbridge child, had been staying with her grandmother. Gil Grissom had arrived only moments before. Paulson could see the forensic scientist step through the front entry doors headed to the home of a grandmother who would very soon be in the full throes of grief. Grissom had requested that he be the one to inform the grandmother. Paulson had no quarrels with that. He did have issues with Grissom, though.

The death of a child was always hard to deal with, and investigating the murder of a minor was no easier. Even the most hardened police officer could find their veil of professionalism slip when it came to children. Paulson supposed it was no different for the crime scene investigators. Although Grissom had not raised his voice, everyone present when he identified the victim could feel his anger and outrage. The clenched fists of the legendary forensic investigator did not go unnoticed by the young detective. True to his reputation, the night shift CSI supervisor was direct and thorough. He had asked about the discovery of the body, the securing of the crime scene, the preliminary findings Nick Stokes had obtained, and what the witnesses in the market had to offer.

It was Paulson and the uniform he had brought with him who had discovered the body. It wasn't hard to spot the garbage bag lying on the ground outside of the dumpsters. It was also Paulson who had done the initial interviews with the supermarket's shift manager and the other employees working during the timeframe in which the body was probably dumped. Carl believed the person who placed the 911 call was the same person who left the corpse at the Albertson's and was, in all likelihood, the perpetrator. No one who worked at the market had seen anything. No one saw a vehicle drive behind the building. No one saw anyone use the payphone in front of the market. See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil, have no hassles.

Paulson had shared everything he knew with Grissom. The CSI supervisor listened patiently and then thanked Carl for his efforts. He then proceeded to piss Carl off by questioning the manager himself, asking the identical questions Carl had asked and getting the same answers. Grissom walked the crime scene as well, looking at the trash bag-clad body from every angle before the coroner's office was allowed to take the body away. He then examined the tire treads and the drag marks. He spoke quietly but with authority. And when the circus began to arrive, he ignored them completely, leaving the task of fording the shark-infested waters of the media to Paulson and other members of the police force.

Grissom gave instructions to Stokes about some crime scene procedures and more instructions to the coroner's assistant about tagging the body for special processing. Both men took the instructions in stride. So, Carl thought, the followers of the Great Grissom were used to his taking control. But Carl wasn't one of Grissom's minions, he was the detective in charge of this investigation - not that Grissom seemed to notice. Paulson intended to stay in charge.


It was well after 1:00 am. All suggestions that she try to get some rest were rebuffed. Mrs. Danbridge had no intention of doing any such thing until she found her granddaughter. A hush fell over the room as soon as the front door opened. The neighbors who had volunteered to stay with Mrs. Danbridge until the police had something to report had already received the first of many calls from the media requesting interviews with the worried grandmother of Las Vegas' most recent missing child.

Mrs. Danbridge stiffened with anticipation as soon as she saw Dr. Grissom enter her living room. His face was unreadable. That could only mean one thing. If there had been any good news, she would be able to see it. The last shred of hope she had to cling to was the fact that there was no news. Her neighbor's strides were measured, steady, purposeful. He must know something. She began to cry. Oh God, she thought, he knows what happened to Shelly.

Gil watched new tears begin to fall down Mrs. Danbridge's face. Each tear seem to tear at his resolve to remain distanced. An investigator could not afford to get emotionally involved. He had preached this canon often enough. The case has no face. Not this case. Not this victim. Not this grieving family. They had faces and names and God dammit all if it wasn't ripping him up on the inside. He crossed the room to sit beside his neighbor.

The CSI and the grandmother looked at each other. She knew that he had bad news and he knew that he had to find a way to tell her. "I'm sorry," Gil managed in a heavy whisper. The words felt hollow.

Placing her head in her hands, Martha Danbridge tried to force out the world. "Oh God ... no." Her voice, filled with pain and disbelief, barely made it past her hands. Her shoulders began to quake as the sobs racked her diminutive frame. She felt strong and sure arms envelop her and collapsed into them, giving herself over to her grief.

Gil Grissom held her with tenderness. Laying his cheek on the top of her hair, he let a single tear fall free from his filled eyes. This should not be happening. This woman should not have to go through another loss again so soon, so tragically. This was not fair. Someone would pay for what had happened to Shelly Danbridge. And that someone was going to have to face him very, very soon.