Cauchemar Part 6: Striking Out
By koaladeb
Disclaimer info in part 1
Notes: From the CSI Miami website: NCAVC stands for the National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crime. It is an FBI program that includes the Serial Investigative Resource Center and VICAP, the Violent Crime Apprehension Program, which tracks elements of violent crimes to identify MO and signatures.
Back at the lab, everyone wasted no time in getting down to business. Unfortunately, the recent slowdown in crime seemed to evaporate and each member of the team was called away on at least one other case. Calleigh checked in several times with Valera, who had been recruited from DNA to trace for the day, checking to see if they had gotten anything back yet. The news was not good. The only materials that had been lifted from the robe were dirt and small pieces of asphalt that matched the area from where the body was found. There was nothing to go on. Even the oil and fluid samples Calleigh had collected confirmed her suspicion that they had been made earlier in the day. She hoped that Alexx had better luck with the body.
Horatio watched Alexx working on the body, examining every part of the victim to uncover her secrets. "What do you have for me?" he asked her.
Alexx looked up to the observation room before she began speaking, the heaviness in her voice telling Horatio that he wouldn't like her answer. "I still have more tests to run, but from what I can tell so far, she was dosed heavily with chloroform, which would explain the lack of defensive wounds and restraint marks. She was so out of it, there was no need to tie her down. Once she was dosed, she probably never woke up. There was enough of it in her system to contribute to her death, but the main cause was some kind of weight that was placed on her chest. Whoever killed her knew what they were doing. There was enough weight to inhibit her breathing, which, combined with the overdose of chloroform, caused her to asphyxiate. However, there were no broken bones in her chest. There was enough weight to kill her, but not enough to crush her."
"What about marks on the body?" Horatio asked.
Alexx shook her head. "The only marks are over the chest area. I can't tell from the bruising what was used to press down on her. All I can say for sure is that it is flat and large enough to rest completely over her chest-this was not someone kneeling on her until she stopped breathing. What's more, I searched every inch of that girl's skin and I can tell you, there are no cuts, no miscellaneous bruises, and no fingerprints on her person. There are no fibers. No traces of anyone even touching her. I checked the area under her fingernails-nothing. I sent some more samples over to trace of the powder, but other than that she's completely clean. Too clean, if you ask me."
"What did you get on time of death?" Horatio questioned, connecting Alexx's comment with her earlier observation at the scene.
"She died sometime between five and six last night." Alexx answered. "Whoever did this made sure they had plenty of time to clean her up. She's been washed and coated with that powder. Even her hair was clean."
Horatio looked down at the body, paying close attention to the victim's natural hair. Alexx had released it from the wig and it now lay on the table. It was blond, straight, and long, probably reaching halfway down her back. Horatio turned to leave. "Thanks, Alexx. Let me know if you find anything else.
"Sure thing." She replied, already focusing her attention back on the young woman in front of her. "You deserved so much better than this." She said quietly, resting her hand on the young woman's shoulder. "We'll find out who did this, baby, I promise."
Horatio's next stop was trace. He spotted Speed examining the wig and Eric running a test on the gas chromatograph. Horatio looked over at Speed. "Did you get anything from the wig?"
Speed looked up. "There's nothing on it that was left by the killer. It's like it came straight out of the bag. I've done some checking and I can tell you that it's pretty high-end. The wig was made up of real hair, which is not something that you find at your local beauty salon."
"Good work," Horatio replied. "Start looking up phone numbers. Every wig place in town. Find out who they've sold something like this to recently. It's the closest thing we have to a lead yet. What's Eric doing?"
Eric walked over, paper in hand. "Running that powder we got off the body." He looked down at the report. "Hot off the presses.Magnesium Silicate Hydroxide. It's a mineral used in counter tops, electrical switchboards, carvings, paint, rubber, roofing materials, ceramics, insecticides, and the primary ingredient in."
"Talcum powder," Calleigh broke in, sneaking up behind Eric and snatching the report out of his hands. "It had to either be that or baby powder. Was there anything special that can help us identify a brand? A scent or color?"
Eric shot Calleigh a look, disappointed that she had stolen his thunder. "Nothing concrete yet. We're still running tests. It has a very light blue color to it and we haven't been able to place the scent. It's very light and has a floral quality to it. It could take a while to pin it down exactly. There's thousands of manufacturers, and there are only slight variances in the products."
Calleigh nodded and then spoke up, adding her bad news to the collection. "We got test results back on what we processed at the scene. Nothing. No traces of anything other than asphalt and dirt, which was all over the scene. Same for the robe-no trace of any kind of detergent or cleaning liquids. It was brand-new white silk robe. We're still running the fibers to see if we can come up with a manufacturer.
Everyone looked over at Horatio. He frowned and then summarized what had been discovered so far. "So we have a woman, coated in talcum powder, dressed in a new, spotless robe, and found dead in a staged scene in a parking lot, with a wig on her head arranged by the killer with no evidence that gets us any closer to figuring out who he is." He sighed, letting go of some of his frustration before he took it out on everyone else. "I've placed a call in to NCAVC. They're checking their files to see if they have a record of any similar cases. I'm going to give them what we've gathered so far, though, and they're going to work on a preliminary profile. We should have something by the beginning of next week. For now, keep running tests, keep making phone calls. We need to nail this guy quickly, before he kills again."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next days were a blur for the CSI team. They worked twenty hour days, running and rerunning tests to look for minute details that might have escaped previous notice while handling new cases that kept coming in. They finally were able to id the victim, a young business professional who was last seen going out for her daily run. Calleigh kept herself busy, going out on cases with everyone, including Horatio. She made sure to keep their conversations friendly and lighthearted, never allowing the subject to turn to the immensely personal, redirecting any attempts he made to broach the subject of her haircut. The haircut.she had abandoned the short and curly idea as soon as she had seen that cut on the dead body earlier in the week. She probably would have shelved the idea completely if it hadn't been for Valera. That girl went straight from intimidated to "new best friend" in no time at all. She was constantly around Calleigh when she was in the lab, talking, asking questions, offering her help. Calleigh felt a little uncomfortable with Valera's sudden closeness, but didn't want to kill the girl's eagerness yet again, so she put on a smile and humored her. Besides, Valera was making good progress in learning how to run trace tests, which was coming in handy now that their work load had picked up. She was also a source of much-needed distraction at times, bringing in more magazines to look at with Calleigh, asking her what styles she might consider once things slowed down a little more, if they ever slowed down. Calleigh was still determined to do something with her long hair, though. It 'did' get in the way sometimes, and she had been pinning it up in a bun in the hoped that it wouldn't get in her face when she was working. She tried to ignore the wistful look that would come over Horatio's face when he saw that it was up again-it was almost like he missed it flying everywhere or something.
By Friday, everyone was worn out, and even though they all planned on working over the weekend, Horatio insisted that everyone take Friday night off to rest and recharge. He felt tempted to have that long delayed dinner and conversation with Calleigh, but figured that a good night's sleep was more important for both of them. Things were not back to normal between them. They were close, but not quite the same-they had worked side by side on a number of cases and there were no problems, their work rhythm was just as smooth, and their conversation had been friendly. They still joked with each other, but there were no witty comments and sly grins from Calleigh that sought to provoke a double-take from him. Then again, there was precious little that anyone felt like joking about recently. In fact, there was no real outward or obvious sign that anything had changed. There was still something missing though. It used to be that when they worked together, there was a thread of silent communication that connected them to each other. They had been able to anticipate each other's needs and offer assistance without the other person even asking. There was a give and take of support, a balance between them that kept them both sane. That thread was gone now, and the balance had shifted so much that he felt as thought he were suddenly facing everything alone, and he wondered why Calleigh would cut off their mutual, unspoken support system like that. He wondered if she missed it as much as he did. He tried to look at her when she wasn't paying attention, searching for signs that she felt as disconnected as he did, but she revealed nothing. He couldn't read her anymore, something which disturbed him greatly. The past couple of days, he had found himself staring at the hair she kept up tightly in a bun. It seemed symbolic. She had bound up her heart along with her hair, refusing to share the sunlight that she used to bring into a room with her. He was still very much aware of the woman at his side, but felt nothing in their contact except a mysterious wall of silence.
Notes: From the CSI Miami website: NCAVC stands for the National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crime. It is an FBI program that includes the Serial Investigative Resource Center and VICAP, the Violent Crime Apprehension Program, which tracks elements of violent crimes to identify MO and signatures.
Back at the lab, everyone wasted no time in getting down to business. Unfortunately, the recent slowdown in crime seemed to evaporate and each member of the team was called away on at least one other case. Calleigh checked in several times with Valera, who had been recruited from DNA to trace for the day, checking to see if they had gotten anything back yet. The news was not good. The only materials that had been lifted from the robe were dirt and small pieces of asphalt that matched the area from where the body was found. There was nothing to go on. Even the oil and fluid samples Calleigh had collected confirmed her suspicion that they had been made earlier in the day. She hoped that Alexx had better luck with the body.
Horatio watched Alexx working on the body, examining every part of the victim to uncover her secrets. "What do you have for me?" he asked her.
Alexx looked up to the observation room before she began speaking, the heaviness in her voice telling Horatio that he wouldn't like her answer. "I still have more tests to run, but from what I can tell so far, she was dosed heavily with chloroform, which would explain the lack of defensive wounds and restraint marks. She was so out of it, there was no need to tie her down. Once she was dosed, she probably never woke up. There was enough of it in her system to contribute to her death, but the main cause was some kind of weight that was placed on her chest. Whoever killed her knew what they were doing. There was enough weight to inhibit her breathing, which, combined with the overdose of chloroform, caused her to asphyxiate. However, there were no broken bones in her chest. There was enough weight to kill her, but not enough to crush her."
"What about marks on the body?" Horatio asked.
Alexx shook her head. "The only marks are over the chest area. I can't tell from the bruising what was used to press down on her. All I can say for sure is that it is flat and large enough to rest completely over her chest-this was not someone kneeling on her until she stopped breathing. What's more, I searched every inch of that girl's skin and I can tell you, there are no cuts, no miscellaneous bruises, and no fingerprints on her person. There are no fibers. No traces of anyone even touching her. I checked the area under her fingernails-nothing. I sent some more samples over to trace of the powder, but other than that she's completely clean. Too clean, if you ask me."
"What did you get on time of death?" Horatio questioned, connecting Alexx's comment with her earlier observation at the scene.
"She died sometime between five and six last night." Alexx answered. "Whoever did this made sure they had plenty of time to clean her up. She's been washed and coated with that powder. Even her hair was clean."
Horatio looked down at the body, paying close attention to the victim's natural hair. Alexx had released it from the wig and it now lay on the table. It was blond, straight, and long, probably reaching halfway down her back. Horatio turned to leave. "Thanks, Alexx. Let me know if you find anything else.
"Sure thing." She replied, already focusing her attention back on the young woman in front of her. "You deserved so much better than this." She said quietly, resting her hand on the young woman's shoulder. "We'll find out who did this, baby, I promise."
Horatio's next stop was trace. He spotted Speed examining the wig and Eric running a test on the gas chromatograph. Horatio looked over at Speed. "Did you get anything from the wig?"
Speed looked up. "There's nothing on it that was left by the killer. It's like it came straight out of the bag. I've done some checking and I can tell you that it's pretty high-end. The wig was made up of real hair, which is not something that you find at your local beauty salon."
"Good work," Horatio replied. "Start looking up phone numbers. Every wig place in town. Find out who they've sold something like this to recently. It's the closest thing we have to a lead yet. What's Eric doing?"
Eric walked over, paper in hand. "Running that powder we got off the body." He looked down at the report. "Hot off the presses.Magnesium Silicate Hydroxide. It's a mineral used in counter tops, electrical switchboards, carvings, paint, rubber, roofing materials, ceramics, insecticides, and the primary ingredient in."
"Talcum powder," Calleigh broke in, sneaking up behind Eric and snatching the report out of his hands. "It had to either be that or baby powder. Was there anything special that can help us identify a brand? A scent or color?"
Eric shot Calleigh a look, disappointed that she had stolen his thunder. "Nothing concrete yet. We're still running tests. It has a very light blue color to it and we haven't been able to place the scent. It's very light and has a floral quality to it. It could take a while to pin it down exactly. There's thousands of manufacturers, and there are only slight variances in the products."
Calleigh nodded and then spoke up, adding her bad news to the collection. "We got test results back on what we processed at the scene. Nothing. No traces of anything other than asphalt and dirt, which was all over the scene. Same for the robe-no trace of any kind of detergent or cleaning liquids. It was brand-new white silk robe. We're still running the fibers to see if we can come up with a manufacturer.
Everyone looked over at Horatio. He frowned and then summarized what had been discovered so far. "So we have a woman, coated in talcum powder, dressed in a new, spotless robe, and found dead in a staged scene in a parking lot, with a wig on her head arranged by the killer with no evidence that gets us any closer to figuring out who he is." He sighed, letting go of some of his frustration before he took it out on everyone else. "I've placed a call in to NCAVC. They're checking their files to see if they have a record of any similar cases. I'm going to give them what we've gathered so far, though, and they're going to work on a preliminary profile. We should have something by the beginning of next week. For now, keep running tests, keep making phone calls. We need to nail this guy quickly, before he kills again."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next days were a blur for the CSI team. They worked twenty hour days, running and rerunning tests to look for minute details that might have escaped previous notice while handling new cases that kept coming in. They finally were able to id the victim, a young business professional who was last seen going out for her daily run. Calleigh kept herself busy, going out on cases with everyone, including Horatio. She made sure to keep their conversations friendly and lighthearted, never allowing the subject to turn to the immensely personal, redirecting any attempts he made to broach the subject of her haircut. The haircut.she had abandoned the short and curly idea as soon as she had seen that cut on the dead body earlier in the week. She probably would have shelved the idea completely if it hadn't been for Valera. That girl went straight from intimidated to "new best friend" in no time at all. She was constantly around Calleigh when she was in the lab, talking, asking questions, offering her help. Calleigh felt a little uncomfortable with Valera's sudden closeness, but didn't want to kill the girl's eagerness yet again, so she put on a smile and humored her. Besides, Valera was making good progress in learning how to run trace tests, which was coming in handy now that their work load had picked up. She was also a source of much-needed distraction at times, bringing in more magazines to look at with Calleigh, asking her what styles she might consider once things slowed down a little more, if they ever slowed down. Calleigh was still determined to do something with her long hair, though. It 'did' get in the way sometimes, and she had been pinning it up in a bun in the hoped that it wouldn't get in her face when she was working. She tried to ignore the wistful look that would come over Horatio's face when he saw that it was up again-it was almost like he missed it flying everywhere or something.
By Friday, everyone was worn out, and even though they all planned on working over the weekend, Horatio insisted that everyone take Friday night off to rest and recharge. He felt tempted to have that long delayed dinner and conversation with Calleigh, but figured that a good night's sleep was more important for both of them. Things were not back to normal between them. They were close, but not quite the same-they had worked side by side on a number of cases and there were no problems, their work rhythm was just as smooth, and their conversation had been friendly. They still joked with each other, but there were no witty comments and sly grins from Calleigh that sought to provoke a double-take from him. Then again, there was precious little that anyone felt like joking about recently. In fact, there was no real outward or obvious sign that anything had changed. There was still something missing though. It used to be that when they worked together, there was a thread of silent communication that connected them to each other. They had been able to anticipate each other's needs and offer assistance without the other person even asking. There was a give and take of support, a balance between them that kept them both sane. That thread was gone now, and the balance had shifted so much that he felt as thought he were suddenly facing everything alone, and he wondered why Calleigh would cut off their mutual, unspoken support system like that. He wondered if she missed it as much as he did. He tried to look at her when she wasn't paying attention, searching for signs that she felt as disconnected as he did, but she revealed nothing. He couldn't read her anymore, something which disturbed him greatly. The past couple of days, he had found himself staring at the hair she kept up tightly in a bun. It seemed symbolic. She had bound up her heart along with her hair, refusing to share the sunlight that she used to bring into a room with her. He was still very much aware of the woman at his side, but felt nothing in their contact except a mysterious wall of silence.
