Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Spoilers: Nothing specific, set mid third season.
A/N: Each chapter is told from a different point of view. I owe enormous thanks to M and J who are two wonderful beta readers.
The worst day of my life started out like any other. Waking up in later afternoon, since I work nights, pulling something to wear out of the pile on the couch, trying to prevent my apartment from submerging in chaos, putting up with criminally stupid household chores and eventually getting myself to work.
I love my job, I really do. But as much as I like working DNA, in the past two years, I've set my eyes on a new goal so to speak. Becoming a CSI. Maybe I'm just not cut out for it, and the cultist case really showed me that I should have stayed in that lab of mine. But there are days when I really feel cooped up in my lab and can't wait to get out in the real world. This is probably real naive from me, thinking that I could actually do it, working cases out there, away from the safe and secure lab. Now, in retrospect, I should probably have stayed where I belong. But really none of what happened was my fault, at least not that I can see. It was just a row of coincidences, a kind of domino effect if you want. But when I got to work, in a sunny mood as usual, I knew none of this. Odd, I think I should have had some kind of ill feeling, but I didn't.
The shift started as always. I worked through the work left from day-shift, night-shift was away on some case. I remember thinking that it must be a really big case if they are all working it together. And I did envy them, especially after Sara dropped by my lab, excitement virtually leaping from her face. Well, it didn't exactly rub off on her demeanor. She was as charming as ever around me, dumping blood samples on my desk and telling me to get to it. It's always the same, everyone wants their results yesterday, or at least ASAP. No matter how good you are, processes still take their time. Even when I got back Sara and Warrick's results in my personal record time, they did not show much appreciation. The warning bells should have gone off inside my head, when I had found the traces of TNT on the glass shards and other things around the scene. But I was just excited at having found the stuff that quickly. I know I'm good at what I do. Not that it did me any good.
The real high point of my day came when Grissom dropped by. Normally he makes me just a little nervous, not that I'd ever cop to that to anyone. He is impossible to satisfy. But he wasn't there to badger me about results. Far from it actually.
"Greg," he said pausing, which lead me to assume the worst. In trouble, missed something, busted a case, fired?!? Okay, maybe I'm crazy or manic or whatever, but with Grissom you never know what's coming.
"Greg, we are having a briefing regarding tonight's homicides. I want you to be there,"
I guess I was grinning from ear to ear. That was the high point of the day; it went really downhill from there on. First it was only a slight descend, then it would accelerate into dive to hell.
In the briefing room, Sara had powered up a computerized model of the crime scene, complete with avatars representing the family members.
"Okay, the figures in black are the bodies where we found them. Living room, kitchen, and bed room," The figures morphed into places. Watching this made me feel like a kid with a new video game.
"The figures in red will represent the living people, blue are the killers," Sara explained it.
"First the living room. Nick, Sara?"
"I'm calling it," Nick said exchanging looks with Sara. "John, Gwen and Gordon are in the living room, when the killers knock the door. There is no peephole in the door, so John must have opened it before he saw who he was letting in," On the computer screen, a red figured moved to the door and opened it, just to get blasted in the chest by the little blue figure. I would have laughed, if I hadn't been aware that we were recreating the murder of an entire family. Nick went on.
"John is shot in the chest, close range. That matches Doc Robbins's report. The killers come in. Gwen Delaney tries to get away, grabbing her kid, but they won't let her, a struggle ensues, at some point the killer throws the vase, maybe tries to subdue her with it. But Gwen escapes into the kitchen," The figures did as Nick had said.
"I don't know," Catherine had her doubts. "Gwen was 5'4", 103 lbs according to the autopsy report. The blood that we found was male. I don't think she could have resisted against two men, or a man and a woman, especially not if one of them had a gun,"
"Okay, then let's change it," Sara said, her tone of voice not too happy. I always get the impression that she is racing against everyone, except Grissom maybe, who was just sitting there looking mysterious as ever.
"One of the killers goes to look for Tina, the other struggles with Gwen. That would work," Again the digital replay visualized the theory.
"We forgot something," Nick said. I'm actually amazed that he saw it. Okay, that is mean now, but Nick just isn't the sharpest crayon in the box. He's a nice guy though. Anyways, what Nick had noticed was that the killers must have either moved the body or left the door open.
"Kitchen is next, it's my turn," Warrick said. "Gwen Delaney is a mother trying to protect her child. She feels cornered and goes for the knife in the drawer, stabs or cuts the killer, although, I'd go for stabbed based on the amount of blood on the floor. But that doesn't stop the killer, he still shoots the boy. Now the mother makes a run for it. She leaves sock prints and the killer leaves shoe prints, because both walked through the blood pool,"
This was my opportunity to show myself useful.
"I examined the fiber from the shoe print, it's straw. The killer was wearing shoes with straw soles. I can tell that it's from a sole, because there are also traces of synthetic glue on it. It's used to make the straw stick together,"
After we had the murder in the kitchen recreated on screen, Grissom had a question.
"Gwen Delaney is a woman trying to survive, she has already lost her husband and child. Why would she not run for the front door? Instead she runs into the bedroom,"
"Maybe she wanted to protect her sister,"
"Bonds between siblings are not that strong, especially not when reduced to instinct in a life and death situation. Biologically seen, siblings are our rivals,"
"Maybe there was something, an object of some type in the living room, that she was after," Warrick theorized.
"Well forgive me as the non-scientist, but I have to counter your argument Gil. Gwen Delaney was Tina's older sister. Gwen's parents died young and she virtually raised her sister, at least that's what social service records say," Brass filled them in.
"Okay then that's settled,"
If I think about it now, I think there was a hint of annoyance in Grissom's voice. He hates to be wrong; he just hides it very well.
"Bedroom for me now," Catherine glanced at her notes. "The two killers forced the women into the bathroom. Based on the angle of the gunshot wounds to their heads, they were probably hunched over the tub, and shot in the head from above. Blood in the tub confirms it," She tossed the photograph of the tub on the table. To my embarrassment I must say, I almost got nauseous, almost that is. Normally my exposure to blood and guts is limited to nice small samples, nothing as gory as this. I hope my face didn't give me straight away. I got a funny look from Nick though; if my face was relatively straight before, it must have shown some funny contortions when Catherine continued.
"Then the killers waited for the women to stop bleeding. The medicine cabinet was open, bloody fingerprints, not matching the family, were all over -so one of our killers tries to bandage the still bleeding stab wound," She nodded in Warrick's general direction.
"They deposit the letter, and then leave,"
Grissom then projected the letter on the screen.
"The blood on the letter matches the blood found on the knife. According to QD, it was printed using a laser printer. All we need is another printer to compare it with,"
The letter read:
The weak and impure must die. We have proven ourselves worthy.
There was no signature. The case was starting to give me an uneasy feeling. It is different when you just work samples. It's far less real, so to speak.
"Religious fanatics, some kind of stunt maybe, gang kids proving that they can kill?" Catherine explored the possibilities.
"I say religious extremists. Impure isn't a word a gang member would write," Grissom said.
"I pulled DNA off the envelope, same as the blood, no hit in CODIS," I explained.
"Cult fits," Brass said. "There was a call to 911 from the apartment the night of the murder. It was only seven seconds. Nothing useful, but Archie is working on it. I took the tapes from the family's answering machine. Luckily, it recorded the last two calls made by Tina Rivers to the Delaney's. It's not much, but still, listen to it.
A quivering female voice filled the room. It was really creepy.
"Gwen, you have to help me. I can't do it, I'm too weak. I don't believe enough. He'll punish me. I'm so scared. I've got to go," The tape clicked off.
"That's number one. The calls came from a number, registered to Daryl Marks; he also owns a car that got two parking tickets in front of the Delaney's building. If that isn't a coincidence, here is number two,"
The same voice again: "Please, I... I need to go. He'll be so angry, he'll kill me, says I'm not worthy. It's a sin, I can't do it. I'm sorry. I will try to get away,"
"So, Tina Rivers was probably a member of some sect or cult and wanted out. She fled to her sister. Her fellow cult members didn't take it well, came after her, killed her and the rest of the family. Maybe they wanted to set an example for other potential dissidents. I say we need to have a talk with Mr. Marks and have a look at his residence. Nick, Catherine you can meet up with Detective Vega. I read your reports Greg about finding traces of TNT on the shards. Get to work on that blood screen. Sara, Warrick, you are coming with me. We are going back to the apartment. We need to find out exactly where there are traces of the explosive and how they got there,"
I'm not saying it is all Grissom's fault that it all went so wrong, but I don't think that he was aware of what he was doing. He underestimated the cultists and how far they would go to follow their beliefs. He's just as human as the rest of us -I'm starting to see that now. I didn't see it before. He's always the intimidating master, never to be pleased, always one step ahead of the others. Well, he made an error in judgment and we ended up paying for it.
tbc