This story is based on characters created by Anthony E. Zuiker for the television series CSI: Crime Scene Investigation.
Remuneration, Part 11
by Cheers
Nick had finished taking the cast of the tire tread. He had also taken another entire sequence of photos of the drag marks under direct light with a demarcation ruler in frame as Grissom had suggested. He then gave special attention to the contents of the four dumpsters behind the market on the remote chance that the perpetrator had thrown away other evidence in one or more of these before departing the scene. He was just finishing up with a search of the last one when he heard Catherine's voice.
"Is this the first or the last one you've searched?" the senior CSI asked.
"Hey, Cath," Nick said as he placed a foot on the lip of the dumpster and jumped down to the pavement in front of her. He brushed his gloved hands down the front of his blue overalls. "That's the last one."
"Anything?"
"Nada," he told her. Nick had called to inform Catherine of the case's progress and of his concerns about Grissom. Nick could never before remember seeing the expression that had crossed his boss's face when he looked at the body. There was something almost … chilling in it. He took the conversation in that direction. "Have you seen Gris?"
Catherine shook her head. "Not yet. I'm headed there now." She looked toward the flood lights at the edge of the pavement. "Do you need help finishing here?"
Following her gaze, Nick shook his head. "I've got to fingerprint the payphones out front is all. After that, I'll get what I have back to the lab. We'll have to wait for the bag and clothes to come back from the morgue before processing those."
She nodded. "Was it bad?"
Both of them knew she was asking about both the condition of the little girl and Grissom's reaction to the identification.
"Kids are always the toughest," Nick said quietly. "I don't think I've ever seen him that angry before."
Catherine looked back at Nick. "Yeah," she sighed. "I'll see you back at the lab when you're through here. Okay?"
Nick knew that the work on this case was only just beginning. The analysis of the evidence collected would be the hard part. Still, he figured he had the lighter duty. After they parted, Nick watched Catherine get into the Tahoe and drive away. She was heading to talk to the grandmother of the murdered child, collect personal items the child owned for comparison purposes, and see Grissom - by far the more difficult aspect of the investigation at the moment.
Detective Carl Paulson spotted the bag of groceries in the hallway outside the Danbridge condominium as soon as he got off the elevator. The plastic bag had the Albertson's logo on it. The officer outside the door to the grandmother's home informed him that the groceries had been left there by Grissom several hours before. No one had thought to do anything with them, opting to simply keep an eye on them until the owner reclaimed them and took them into his own home.
Using his pen, Paulson inspected the contents of the bag and found what he was looking for - a receipt. Using his handkerchief, Paulson picked up the receipt and noted the time and date stamp. It was dated the evening before at 11:01 pm. Two minutes before the call was made to 911 dispatch. The store address matched the location they had both just been at. Grissom was at the same market at virtually the same time the call had been placed. Funny he hadn't mentioned that. And not funny ha ha.
Placing the receipt into an envelope and dropping it into his pocket, Paulson turned to the officer at the door again. "Officer …" Carl looked at the uniform's name tag, "Pampling?"
"Yes, sir," Pampling responded to the detective.
Paulson nodded. "I'm the detective in charge of this case, and I need you to do me a favor."
Grissom had stayed with Martha Danbridge until she had calmed down enough to listen to him more rationally. Shelly's parents had been called by Detective Paulson and told the horrifying news. They would be taking the next flight to Vegas from Ohio. There wasn't anything Mrs. Danbridge could do at this time. The crime lab would be sending someone to collect Shelly's hairbrush, toothbrush, and a few items of clothing so that samples for comparison could be obtained. A full statement had been given to the police. What Mrs. Danbridge needed to do now was rest. The day was going to be long and trying. She had to be a mother to her son and daughter-in-law when they arrived. After some reassurances that one of her other neighbors would stay with her, Mrs. Danbridge had finally gone in to her bedroom to lie down.
An officer approached Grissom while he was speaking with Carl Paulson. Gil had left his groceries in the hallway and the press would be arriving very soon. The officer asked Grissom if he wouldn't mind taking them into his house. When Paulson had asked if they could continue their conversation about the case while Grissom did this, it never occurred to Gil to say no. Carl didn't mind using his newness to the Homicide detail as an excuse to ask the CSI supervisor questions. Those questions would get him access to Grissom's home and a cursory look around the residence.
Picking up the bag from the hallway, Gil unlocked his front door and walked through, holding it open once inside to allow the young detective to enter behind him. Paulson walked into Grissom's living room while Gil headed into the kitchen to put the groceries away.
Glancing around the living room, Paulson found a small bundle of wildflowers bound with a rubber band lying on a side table. A closer look revealed that there were blonde hairs trapped by the rubber band and mixed in with the stems of the flowers. The detective looked up and watched Grissom putting his groceries away.
"You like flowers, Mr. Grissom?" Paulson asked the CSI.
Turning, Gil looked at the detective. He was sure the younger man had spoken but he hadn't clearly heard what was said. "I'm sorry?"
Evasive, Paulson thought. He repeated his question. "You like flowers?"
Gil realized Paulson had found the flowers Shelly had given him the last time he had seen her alive. Instantly a lump formed in his throat again. "They were a gift," he said simply, desiring to leave it at that.
"From Shelly Danbridge?" Paulson inquired, not taking the hint in Grissom's tone.
Grissom gave the detective a hard look. "Yes."
Putting his hands in his pockets and nodding, Paulson made a show of examining the flowers again. "These look like they were picked pretty recently," he mused aloud.
Now Grissom was moving toward the detective. He hadn't remembered the flowers were there until Paulson mentioned them. Gil wasn't certain but he could swear that there was an undertone of accusation in the detective's voice.
When Grissom didn't comment, Paulson realized he had hit very close to the mark. He had one more question for the criminalist. "Do you sometimes use large plastic trash bags to collect evidence, Mr. Grissom?"
