Disclaimers, etc. in Part 1

4/4

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"Why didn't you just dial in to listen to the messages?" asked Sara of Grissom as they followed the squad car to Adam Ferris's apartment.

"Some answering machines can tell you when someone has dialled in," he informed her. "My one at home beeps to tell me there are messages but, if I've dialled in already to listen to them, it doesn't beep."

"What if there's been a new message since Ferris last dialled in though? Won't that start it beeping again?"

"Yes, but we'll just have to wait and see. His model of machine might not even beep, but it's something to find out."

"What do you make of Ferris?" she asked by way of continuing conversation.

"What do you make of him?" replied Grissom, sending the question back to her.

"He doesn't seem too upset about his girlfriend's death," said Sara, deciding to let Grissom off the hook for the moment. "He also seemed a bit hesitant about letting us visit his apartment. Do you know if Brass has confirmed with his brother when he arrived?"

"He confirmed it just before we interviewed him. The brother says he arrived on Tuesday morning, but the brother was at work and it was his wife that let Ferris in. He was there most of the day, however, at night they went to his wife's mother's. She doesn't like Ferris, so he didn't go. He was there when they got back and they say they don't think he could possibly have gone out, but I say he had time to get to Vegas and back, just."

"But, we're assuming that the vic died while she was sleeping. If it was Ferris, could he really have killed her and got back to Laughlin before his brother got home?"

"It would be tight, but it's possible. The brother didn't get home until after midnight, as it was his mother-in-law's birthday and Laughlin is about a two hour drive from Vegas, at average speed. They went out at 6, so he could technically have driven to Vegas, killed her and driven back in plenty of time."

"Yeah, but I doubt the vic would have gone to bed that early, especially when she apparently wasn't used to him staying over during the week."

"Maybe she thought he was getting more serious," suggested Grissom. "We just have to wait and see what the evidence tells us. The time of death was around 10pm remember."

----

Ferris unlocked his apartment door and then stood aside as Grissom and Sara entered. He didn't look too nervous, but was still on edge and his eyes followed both CSIs as they moved around, taking in every detail.

"Can I make myself something to eat?" asked Ferris. "I didn't get any breakfast since your guys drove me back to Vegas."

"Sorry about that," said Brass dryly.

Grissom watched closely as Ferris moved to the kitchen and opened the fridge.

"You have quite a lot of perishable food for someone who was going to be out of town for nearly a week," commented Grissom from over Ferris's shoulder.

"Visiting with my nephew was kind of a spur of the moment decision," said Ferris, his nerves beginning to show.

Grissom merely nodded and returned to his perusal of the apartment. Sara was in the bedroom, checking the sheets.

"Find anything?" asked Grissom from the doorway.

"No sign of sex," replied Sara, "and it doesn't look like the bed has been slept in for a few days, as we would expect if he's been out of town."

"There was no sign of semen in Jennifer Hawkins' bed either, was there?"

"No," confirmed Sara. "It's possible she changed the sheets at the start of the week though."

"Yes, but it also means that, if he was there that night, he didn't have sex with her."

"Maybe he decided to come across as caring and said he just wanted to spend the night with her," suggested Sara with a shrug.

"We're still no closer to a motive though," said Grissom resignedly.

"I'm gonna keep looking around in here, I thought you were gonna check his messages?"

"Yeah, I am," nodded Grissom, moving away.

"I didn't hear a beep," commented Sara to his retreating back.

"Neither did I, but I noticed it flashing to show there is a message."

Grissom was right, there was a message, but it was blank and there was no number stored, even though the model of answering machine automatically dialled 'star69' to get the number of the person who called.

"Probably a sales call," shrugged Ferris, watching as Grissom made a note of the machine model number.

"Possibly. You said you didn't dial in to check your messages while you were out of town?"

"Right, I didn't see the need."

"Okay."

Grissom walked back into the bedroom and pulled out his cellphone, closing the door behind him and slightly startling Sara.

"Nick, it's Grissom. I need you to go out and buy the following model of answering machine…"

----

"So, this is the type that beeps when there's a new message," said Sara as she and Grissom finished their test of the answering machine.

"Yes."

"So, Ferris lied, he did dial in and check his messages."

"It seems that way. We don't know that there was another message though. It's possible there was and he deleted it when he dialled in, but we don't know for sure. Do we have the victim's phone records?"

"They just arrived a few hours ago, haven't had a time to look at them yet."

"Can you do that and let me know if you find Ferris's number, either home or cell, among them?"

"Sure," nodded Sara.

----

"She called him at home and must have left him a message," announced Sara about an hour later. "The call only lasted about 30 seconds."

"When did she call?"

"Tuesday evening."

"After he supposedly went out of town?"

"Yes," confirmed Sara.

"Did she call his cell after that, or receive a call from him?"

"No."

"I wonder what she said in the message that made him feel the need to delete it," mused Grissom.

"I was thinking about that," said Sara. "Suppose she had been getting the sleep apnoea symptoms again and wanted to ask him if he'd noticed her breathing stopping for longer at the weekend?"

"According to Dr Mathieson though, it would have been a gradual deterioration, not a sudden one. If it had gotten bad enough that being without the machine could kill her, she'd have probably asked him about it before then."

"But what if she had and he'd denied noticing anything? She could have called to ask him again, maybe after having a really bad headache or something?"

"It's pure conjecture, Sara, we have nothing to corroborate that."

"I know, but it's possible, isn't it?"

"Yes," agreed Grissom, though obviously not convinced. "Why would she call him at home though, if he says everyone uses his cell?"

"If she didn't know he was going out of town, she could have hoped to catch him at home after work. When she didn't find him there, she maybe didn't want to disturb him at work, so left a message?"

"If he went out of town and came back to see her, then killed her, it was pre-meditated," said Grissom. "We need a motive."

"I know. I think we need to go back to the vic's house, we didn't look around again the last time, we were too busy experimenting."

"You think we missed something during the initial processing?" he queried with surprise.

"I'm not sure, but I've looked through the photos again and something is just niggling at me."

----

Letting themselves into Jennifer Hawkins house once more, Sara and Grissom immediately started looking around. They didn't speak, just took out their flashlights and started searching over the now-familiar territory. Grissom headed for the bedroom, but Sara remained in the living room, casting her eye over the array of magazines on the coffee table and assortment of ornaments on the end tables and mantelpiece.

"Grissom?" called Sara. "Can you remember what was said about Jennifer Hawkins' family?"

"Parents died in a car crash when she was 18, she was an only child and moved to Vegas to be raised by her grandmother," replied Grissom after a few moments, re-joining her in the living room. "I think her grandmother died about two years ago."

"The background check on Ferris, what did it bring up? Any money problems?"

"Not that they've found so far, no. Why, what are you thinking?"

"I don't know, I just can't put my finger on it, but something's not right here."

"Here in general, or somewhere in particular?" he pressed.

"I don't know," she said, squinting her eyes as the position of the sun changed outside and shone directly in the window onto the end table just in front of Sara. "Wait, I do know," she said suddenly, crouching down in front of the table. "Look at this, Grissom," she beckoned, waving her finger at him to draw him closer.

"What?" he asked, squatting down beside her.

"You see the sunspot, or lack of, here?" she said, pointing at the table. Grissom followed her finger, but seemed nonplussed.

"This area of the living room seems to be a bit of a suntrap," explained Sara. "You can see how the wood of the table has faded with time, due to the sun's rays?"

"Yes," nodded Grissom.

"When I processed in here the first time, it was dark, so I didn't notice anything unusual," continued Sara. "Now though, look at the area of darker wood on that table, something has been there until recently."

"Good catch, Sara," said Grissom seriously. "Any idea what it was?"

"It's an unusual pattern, but I've seen something very like it."

"Where?"

"In Ferris's bedroom, on his dresser." Grissom's eyes grew wide and he looked at her to continue. "I took a photo of it, it's in the file at the lab. It's hard to describe, but it's some kind of rose bowl ornament, probably a family heirloom, looked really antique… and expensive."

"You think theft was the motive?"

"I think we need to check Ferris's financial details more closely," replied Sara. "I think we also need to get a valuation on the ornament, find out what it's worth and see if Ferris can explain how it came to be in his possession."

----

"I talked to Ferris's bank," said Brass as he arrived in Grissom's office. "The large cash withdrawals that Sara mentioned he made a few months ago?" Grissom nodded. "Turns out they were to pay off gambling debts. That's not all though," he continued, raising a hand to stop Grissom from interrupting.

"Hang on, Jim, Sara should be here for this."

Grissom paged Sara and the two men waited in silence for her to arrive. Once she had entered the office and sat down, Brass re-iterated what he had already said.

"The bank knew the money was for gambling debts?" said Sara doubtfully. "That's not something you'd really tell your bank manager, no matter how friendly they're supposed to be."

"I'm getting to that," said Brass. "Apparently, Ferris requested a loan a couple of months ago, a business loan." He stopped and watched Sara and Grissom for a moment, purely to antagonise them, before resuming his story. "The bank quizzed him about the withdrawals he'd been making and he admitted they were for debts, hoping to prove that it showed he now had them paid off and everything was under control. The bank told him that they couldn't help him, as they couldn't guarantee he wouldn't get into debt again, they also told him it was unlikely any other bank would help him. Apparently, Ferris was pretty pissed about it and said he'd find the money somehow."

"You said it was for a business loan? Ferris has a good job already, what does he want to do?" asked Grissom.

"He's developing some kind of internet security software and wants to market it himself. If he goes through his company, the Intellectual Property Rights contract he has with them would mean he wouldn't get much money from it, they'd reap the benefits instead, so he wanted the loan to quit his job and develop the software some more before finding a distributor."

"How much money did he want?"

"That's the good part," grinned Brass at Grissom's question. "He wanted ten thousand dollars."

"That's the approximate auction value of the rose bowl," said Sara immediately. "I told you it looked expensive," she added at Grissom's surprised expression.

"Yeah, let's see how Ferris explains that little coincidence," smirked Brass.

----

"The rose bowl you have on the dresser in your bedroom, Mr Ferris," started Grissom as he sat across from the suspect in the interrogation room, "where did you get it?"

Ferris looked at his newly-acquired lawyer and waited for an indication before answering.

"It was a gift," he shrugged. "Family heirloom."

"Your family?" asked Grissom.

The calm look on Ferris's face started to slip as he heard Grissom's question, but he plastered a nonchalant look back on and cleared his throat before answering.

"Yes."

From her position behind the viewing wall, Sara smiled, knowing that Ferris had just walked into Grissom's trap.

"How do you explain then that the rose bowl was in Jennifer Hawkins house until recently?"

"What?" said Ferris too quickly, sitting up straighter in his seat.

"This photo shows clearly where the rose bowl sat in her house until very recently, you can see where the surrounding wood of the table has been lightened by the sun, leaving darker wood in the pattern of the rose bowl."

"I uh… I didn't really have anywhere to display it, so I let her keep it at her place," said Ferris feebly.

"When did you take it back?"

"At the weekend."

"Why? Did you suddenly decide that your dresser was the best place to display its beauty?" said Grissom sarcastically.

"Jen wanted to put something else there, I forget what, so I said I'd take it back," he shrugged, but the tenseness in his shoulders was obvious.

"I hear you want to set up your own business?" asked Brass suddenly, drawing Ferris's gaze to him.

"So?"

"So, I heard the bank turned down your loan application." Ferris merely shrugged again. "Did you ask your girlfriend for a loan, when you heard that no bank would loan money to a self-confessed gambling addict?"

"I'm not an addict," said Ferris firmly. "In answer to your question though, no, I didn't ask Jen for money, why would I? She didn't have that kind of cash."

"That rose bowl is worth around the $10,000 you were looking for," commented Grissom calmly. Ferris looked at him. "We got it appraised after taking it from your apartment with a warrant. Turns out though, we could have saved ourselves the bother, as it was appraised just a few years ago, when it was left to Jennifer Hawkins in her grandmother's will."

Ferris's eyes registered shock and Sara beamed with pride at the slam dunk she knew Grissom had just scored.

"How did Jennifer actually die, Mr Ferris?" asked Grissom.

"How would I know? I wasn't there."

"Oh, I think we both know you were."

"I wasn't even in Vegas."

"You know, it's funny you should mention that," said Brass. "We ran your license plates and came up with nothing but, a couple of hours ago, we decided to run the plates of the cars belonging to your brother and his wife. Your sister-in-law's car was caught speeding on the night your girlfriend died."

"So?"

"So, it was caught on the interstate just leaving Vegas around 10:45pm. How is that possible when your sister-in-law was at her mom's that night?"

"I wouldn't know."

"We managed to get an image of the driver from the camera, looks a lot like you," said Brass as he placed a photo on the table. "You know, we also checked your brother's phone records. There was a call made from his house to Jennifer Hawkins house around 7pm on the night she died; was that you returning the message she left for you at home?"

"I never got any message from her, I told you that already. You checked my messages."

"We know she left you a message," said Grissom. "You dialled in from your brother's, or from your cellphone, and deleted it. I assume it was just after she left it on the Tuesday evening. You waited until your brother went out, which he said was around 6:45, you then returned Jennifer's call. Why did she call you? Was she concerned that she had a bad headache and was thinking her sleep apnoea was getting worse? You then took your sister-in-law's car and drove to Las Vegas to see Jennifer. Since you didn't have your own car, it's not surprising that the neighbours didn't notice you there, but you were there. What did you do, suggest an early night? Tell her that you'd be there to see if she was getting any worse and wake her up if she did?" Ferris said nothing and Grissom went in for the kill. "Her sleep apnoea was getting worse, wasn't it? You knew it and you knew that she'd know it once she attended the sleep clinic. You had asked her to sell the rose bowl and loan you the money, but she refused. You decided to get it anyway and knew you had an easy opportunity because, when you stayed over at weekends and slept beside her when she didn't use the machine, you noticed that her periods of not breathing were getting longer each time. What were you doing, waiting so long and then waking her up so that she didn't realise quite how bad it was getting? Then, on that Tuesday night, you agreed to sleep beside her when she was using the machine, just to give her a safety net if her settings weren't good enough to keep her breathing. Instead though, you carefully removed the mask and waited while she stopped breathing and then you didn't waken her, she didn't wake up. I'm interested to know what you would have done if her body had actually automatically woken her, but it doesn't matter, you didn't waken her, so you effectively killed her."

"You can't prove any of that," said Ferris, his lawyer nodding.

"We have enough evidence to arrest you and we have a motive, the theft of the rose bowl," stated Brass.

"She gave that to me as a gift," claimed Ferris.

"That's not what you said earlier," reminded Brass.

"You made one major mistake when you removed her mask," said Grissom, fixing Ferris with a look. "When you put it back on her face, after she was dead, you didn't realize there was a twist in the elastic behind her head. She could never have slept with it like that, so she definitely did not put that mask on, you did. You must have worn gloves, slipped them on while she was asleep, but even the most careful killers make mistakes, as you've proved and I know that, if we keep looking, we'll find another one."

"For now though," interrupted Brass, "you're under arrest for murder."

----

"Hey," said Sara from Grissom's doorway, causing him to look up and meet her gaze.

"Hi."

"Here's my report on the Hawkins murder," she said, stepping into the office and placing a file on his desk.

"Thanks, I'll sign off on it later, I'm just finishing mine." Sara didn't leave and Grissom looked at her curiously. "Anything else?"

"Uh, yeah…" His raised eyebrows prompted her to finish what she was saying. "The tape that was made of me at the sleep clinic, you don't need it anymore, do you?"

"No."

"Good. Can I have it?"

"Of course, it does belong to you." He reached into his desk drawer and removed the tape, placing it in front of him on the desk. Sara's hand hovered over it, but she didn't immediately grab it.

"You haven't made any copies, have you?" she grinned. "I wouldn't want them falling into the wrong hands."

"Whose hands would you consider as 'wrong'?" asked Grissom seriously.

"Greg, Nick and Warrick's. They've been bugging me about the tape since it was made, asking to see it."

"Ah. Does that mean that, since I'm not wrong hands, I can keep a copy for myself?" he queried with an arched eyebrow, his tone perfectly serious, but a twinkle in his eyes.

Sara saw the twinkle, but was confused as to what was going on, what game Grissom was currently playing.

"Why would you want a copy?" she asked, putting the ball back into his court.

"Maybe I like watching you sleep," he said quietly, suddenly aware of his open office door, but still feeling the need to answer her question honestly.

Although shocked by his comment, Sara managed to take a shaky breath to calm herself down before considering her response.

"It's funny you should mention that," she finally said, "because I was just thinking that I haven't slept as well as I did that night for a long time."

"Really? Maybe it was Beth's calming presence," he suggested.

"Possibly, although I wasn't really aware of Beth watching me, I could only sense you," she said seriously. Without a further word, she grabbed the tape, turned and started to walk out of his office.

"Sara," he called to stop her, watching as she turned around and gave him a curious look. He suddenly realized that he didn't have anything to say to her, he just didn't want her to get the last word. "You should watch the tape, especially the part where you started talking in your sleep," he smirked.

"I thought you didn't know what I said."

"I lied," he grinned.

"What did I say?" she asked, suddenly worried and defensive. Her gaze moved from him to the tape in her hands. Grissom could almost hear her thought process and his grin grew wider.

"I wouldn't recommend watching the tape here, Sara, take it home," he told her.

"What did I say?" she repeated.

"Something that I hope to hear again, though in a different context," he said enigmatically, smiling as Sara practically bolted from his office and headed for her car.

"What did you say to Sara?" asked Catherine a moment later as she poked her head into his office. "She ran past me without a word."

"Let's just say I more or less told her I know what to do," he replied cryptically, chuckling as Catherine rolled her eyes in annoyance and left.

Grissom leaned back in his chair and then reached into his desk drawer once more, pulling out a tape from its depths.

"Well, she didn't say I couldn't keep a copy," he said to himself.

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End