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

Remuneration, Part 32
by Cheers

Gil Grissom had completed the preliminary entomological analysis of the We-Store-It homicide crime scene. According to his calculations, the victim found in unit 71 had been dead for eighteen to twenty days. He signed the report and dropped it into a file folder labeled with the case number. Grabbing his coat, Gil headed to meet Nick in the parking lot. He would drop the report off at the front desk with instructions to make sure that it got to Catherine, Warrick, or Sara as soon as possible.


"You're kidding," Sara told Bobby Dawson.

"Nope," Bobby said, smiling and chewing on his ever-present gum.

"No powder rounds?" Warrick said incredulously.

"Aguila .22 super Colibri - super quiet ammo that doesn't contain gun powder, fires from the force of the primer only," Bobby told the CSIs.

Catherine nodded her understanding. "Old school. Powerful and nearly silent," she said, "great for use in the city."

The assessment got the approval of the Ballistics tech. "And with a velocity of only 500 feet per second at the muzzle, the bullet wouldn't provide enough of a recoil to function in most semi-automatics. You're probably looking for a .22 caliber rimfire handgun with a long barrel."

With thanks given all around to Bobby, the CSIs moved to go. Bobby stopped Sara as she was walking out the door. "Great news about Grissom, isn't it?"

Sara looked back at the tech. "Yeah," she said, smiling wholeheartedly. "It is."


One of the good things about police work in Vegas was that the city never slept. There were always witnesses who where awake at four in the morning that a police officer and a few CSIs could talk to. This was the case at the Monaco Casino when Jim Brass, Catherine, Warrick, and Sara arrived to talk with the management.

Doc Robbins had called to report that their John Doe had finally been positively identified as Joseph Durant, Jr.. After coming up with next to nothing on the records check, Brass had requested a full background check on their victim. What they found was very interesting. Durant had reported his occupation to the IRS as a gambler. His reported earnings for the past two years topped seventy grand. That made him a good gambler. Since the victim had his suits tailored at the Monaco, Brass was betting that he did the lion's share of his gambling there as well. Catherine agreed.

Splitting up into two teams, the three CSIs and the one homicide detective set out to question the night shift pit bosses and dealers at the moderate to high stakes tables. This is where Durant would have seen most of his action, Warrick suggested.

It didn't take long for Warrick and Catherine to discover that Durant liked to play blackjack and that he liked the single-deck moderate stakes tables. "Probably counted cards," Warrick offered. And since counting cards wasn't illegal if the math was done mentally, a gambler could do well if he played smart. This was something Warrick understood very well.

Brass and Sara spoke with the pit bosses. The lead pit boss on nights was Robert Gamez.

"So he was a regular here," Brass said.

Gamez nodded. "Sure, we knew Joe around here. He was a good player, smart. He made some bucks."

"Did he have any trouble here?" Sara wanted to know. "Have problems with any of the dealers, cocktail waitresses, security personnel?"

The pit boss hesitated for a moment. "Come to think of it," he said thoughtfully, "there was an incident about a month ago."

Sara and Brass exchanged looks.

"What kind of 'incident'?" Jim Brass asked.


Nick hit the stop button on the mini-recorder and the sound of the man's voice stopped. It was obvious that Martha Danbridge was too emotional to go on right at that moment. Cheryl Danbridge buried her face in her husband's shoulder as Ron held her. The voice of the man who may have killed Shelly seemed to hang in the air even after the recording was stopped. The only sounds for several moments were the muffled noises of the women weeping.

"I'm sorry to have to ask this," Gil said softly, looking at Martha Danbridge with compassion. "But it would really help us if you could remember if you've ever heard this voice before."

Martha looked up at her neighbor with tear-soaked eyes. The horror of hearing the recording was clearly evident in her face. "I don't know if I can," she told Grissom.

"I need you to try, Mrs. Danbridge," Gil said gently but firmly. "We wouldn't be asking if it weren't important."

As she did the night Shelly was lost, Mrs. Danbridge reached out to take hold of Grissom's hand. What they were asking for would be difficult to get even from someone who was a stranger to Shelly. Gil was beginning to understand how hard this whole thing had been on his neighbor. Suddenly, the prospect of possibly being fired from his job didn't seem like such a terrible loss. What the Danbridges had suffered was so much more horrible that it made Gil feel ashamed.

"Please try, Mrs. Danbridge," Carl Paulson encouraged. Nick gave Paulson a stern look. Grissom ignored the detective.

After another moment, Martha nodded her head very slightly. "For Shelly," she whispered heavily. "I'll try for her."

"Thank you," Gil told her. He nodded to Nick, who pushed the play button once more.

Ron Danbridge listened to the voice and hugged his wife as if he were holding on to a life preserver. He would find a way to kill the owner of that voice.


The sun was rising over the eastern hills of the Las Vegas valley. The colored glass of the Las Vegas strip resorts glinted in the sunlight. He drove the highway through the center of the valley quickly. The glimmer of the colors - red, green, purple, gold - went completely unnoticed. He had other things to think about. Promising things. Exciting things.

Today would be the day, and this time nothing would go wrong. Today he would have her.