CSI: Ghost of Christmas Present.
An original fan fiction
"CSI" and it's characters are owned by CBS Television, Jerry Bruckheimer, and Alliance Atlantis
Original characters are my own.
CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
"Ghost of Christmas Present"
--1--
"Why did Grissom get Christmas week off?" Nick Stokes asked. "When does Grissom ever take time off?"
"Maybe he got tired of being labeled "Ebenezer Grissom," his partner, Sara Sidle said. "Didn't he tell you he got visited by three ghosts last Christmas eve?"
"No, Sara, I don't think he mentioned that. He probably got too big of a whiff of his Duqenois reagent."
"Nah, I think it was 'a bit of underdone potato.'"
Nick and Sara continued their banter as they made their way through Twin Pines Mall. Their boss, Gil Grissom, had taken Christmas week off. Nobody really new why. Sara postulated that he was home doing the new book of crossword puzzles she had gotten for him. Nick actually preferred to think Grissom actually had a life, and was out and about town enjoying himself.
Catherine Willows was handing out assignments in Grissom's absence. Her pet theory was that Grissom was heading over to California to ride some new roller coasters. She had given Nick and Sara this new assignment. A new assignment they weren't real thrilled to get.
It was 11:00 AM on Christmas Eve. They had gotten off shift a few hours earlier, and had gone to Denny's for Breakfast and to do their own gift exchange. Nick had gotten her a nice red scarf, as well as a subscription to a new Forensic Science journal. He had spent more than their informal office policy stated he should, but that was ok. They never got that far however, no sooner had they gotten their meals, when Catherine had called. Day shift was overloaded already. Robberies, drug cases, and the usual holiday suicides. They got to head over to the mall and check out a suspected murder. Now, their meals sat in boxes in Nick's car, and they found themselves fighting through a crowd to get to the crime scene in the mall.
They picked their way through, and found themselves facing not one, but two sets of Crime Scene tape. There was about a fifty yard perimeter between the two. They signed the clipboard held by the uniform at the scene entrance, and proceeded to the spot where they could see Jim Brass standing with his back to them.
Nick walked up behind the detective and tapped him on the shoulder. "Merry Christmas, Jim."
Brass turned toward him. "Bah Humbug."
"Ooh, what's the problem there?"
"This," Brass said, and pointed to the mall floor. There, lying in a heap was Santa Claus. "Allow me to introduce you to the new 'ghost of Christmas present'."
--2--
"Wow." That was all Sara could muster. She looked around at the crowd standing behind the second set of tape. Many of the adults were craning their necks to see what was going on. There were also kids in the crowd. "Man, try explaining this one to your kids tonight."
Brass cackled indignantly. "Yes Virginia, someone did kill Santa Claus. The press is pawing to get in here, and the mall management is breathing down Sheriff Atwater's neck. You guys don't have a lot of time."
Nick arched his eyebrows and let out a long breath. Directly in front of them was a large stage area. It was a Christmas scene, with fake snow, large human-sized Candy Canes, big fake Christmas trees, and a large throne type chair where the Mall Santa did his business, getting all the little kids to tell him what they wanted for Christmas. Their only saving grace at this point was that the biggest part of the crowd's view was blocked by the stage and throne. Santa was laying on his side, and a big pool of blood was forming next to his head.
David, the assistant coroner, had finally made his way to the scene. "Sorry guys, Christmas traffic."
"Hey Super-Dave," Nick said. "You didn't get Christmas Eve off either?"
"No, and Doc Robbins is cranky. He was just about to head out for the day when the call came in." David leaned in and examined the victim. "Wow, I thought Rocky Racoon getting killed was bad. Looks like a single gunshot wound to the head. Take a look."
Nick, Sara, and Brass leaned in for a closer look. David lifted up the Santa hat just enough to reveal a large, star-shaped, ragged entry wound on the forehead. "Contact wound," Sara said. Bullet still in the vic?"
David turned the body slightly, revealing the exit wound on the back of the head. "Nope, sorry."
"Great, we got a bullet out there somewhere."
Nick chimed in next. "Could have been someone he knew or trusted. I mean, somebody walked up and shot Santa Claus in the head!"
"So," Sara said, "Santa gets whacked, who's the first suspect?"
"Elves?" Brass asked
Nick and Sara glared at him.
"Rudolph?"
More glares.
"Blitzen...." Brass started to say.
"You're not helping," Nick shot back.
"I'll tell you what. I'll go talk to the mall manager and find out who their mall santa was."
Sara smirked back at him. "You do that, Jim."
David finished up taking liver temp and making his observations. "Ok, he's all yours. I'm gonna go get the gurney."
Nick looked at Sara. "Where do you want to start?"
"You check out Santa, I'll look for the bullet."
--3--
Sara did a little math in her head, taking into account the orientation of the body and the wound, in order to define a search area. She walked out into the crowd. She could hear kids crying and parents trying to hush them. She imagined more than a few children's Christmas illusions would be crushed by this story. She hoped the press would cover it tactfully.
Yeah, right.
She walked to the nearest wall and set her kit on the ground. People watching her every move. She felt really uncomfortable. For a moment she thought about calling Brass and having him extend the scene perimeter. However, she knew the mall manager would have a fit.
Black jeans, black leather jacket, and black beanie hat, she doubt she looked like someone in the holiday spirit. She was also sure the scowl on her face didn't help either. She took out her mini-mag flashlight and began perusing the wall for the missing bullet.
The wall was covered with a giant Christmas scene painting. Kids skating on a frozen pond in a snowstorm. Santa looking on from the side. This was Vegas, no snow, no ice, no skating. Oh well. She figured one day there would be a Christmas themed casino. That would be the epitome of ridiculous.
She spent the better part of the next hour going over the mural with a fine-tooth comb. She hit pay dirt when she got to the Santa figure in the painting. There, in the head of the 2 dimensional Santa, was the bullet. It was just barely sticking in the wall. She took out her camera and snapped a few photos before removing the bullet. "Now, I've seen everything, " she said to herself.
She made her way back to Nick. The body had been removed, under two sheets. Now, the crowd had dispersed for the most part. "You find anything?"
"Well, I swabbed the wound for GSR, but that's not going to help much. I did pull some blue fibers from the white fur ring around the end of his sleeves though."
"Nice. I got a bullet for Bobby Dawson."
"That'll be a nice Christmas present for him."
"Yeah, I thought so. Let's head back to the lab before the mall manager kills us for clogging up his mall."
--4--
After fighting the Christmas eve traffic themselves, Nick and Sara finally arrived back at the crime lab. A lot of the people had headed out for the day. There might be crime scenes today, but there was not going to be a lot of lab processing done. Sara had been surprised to see Bobby Dawson still at his station in the Firearms lab. They had dropped off their bullet, and Bobby had promised to get them some results as soon as possible.
Now they found themselves in the trace lab, looking at the fibers Nick had found on Santa's sleeve. Nick was checking them out under the stereo microscope. "I don't know, Sara. They're dark blue for sure, but nothing else really to go on. They don't appear to be distinct in any way. I don't think we're gonna get a break here."
"Well, maybe Brass will get something." Sara sighed and collapsed into an office chair. "What do you do for Christmas, Nick?"
Nick backed off the microscope and sat down next to Sara. "Not much usually. Sometimes I have a date, though not this year. Usually, I call the family, and a few college buddies, wish them a merry Christmas. Then I get up in the morning and open the presents people have gotten me."
"You ever get tired of being alone on Christmas morning?"
"Yeah, we made a big deal out of it when I was a kid, so it's kind of empty when it's just me. What about you Sara?"
"Me? Last year I met Grissom at some Chinese place in one of the casinos."
"I bet that was exciting."
"Yeah, Christmas morning with Grissom, good times. He kept talking about how it was logistically impossible for Santa and his reindeer to fly around the world in one night. Come to find out that him and Brass had been at the office late and had a few. Brass took him home apparently."
Nick laughed at the thought of his boss drunk and hung-over. Maybe he was human after all. "What about this year? You got any plans?"
"Find out who shot Santa Claus in the head."
"No, really Sara. Inquiring minds want to know."
"I hadn't thought about it really. I usually watch some of those old mundane Christmas movies that are on cable till all hours of the night. Then I sleep in."
"Well, maybe we......" Nick was interrupted as Brass slammed his way through the trace lab door.
"I'm glad to see you two are working hard anyway. I got some info."
"Well, spit it out," Nick said.
"Well, turns out Santa's name was Kris."
"Kringle?"
"No Nick, that would be a bit too much. Last name was Kendrick. Works as a contractor for the Red Card Casino group, when he's not ho-ho-hoing."
"Ok. That's not much to go on." Sara said.
"Oh, there's more."
"What?"
"Janitor found a gun in a garbage can outside the mall. I just gave it to Bobby."
"NICE."
"So here's what I was thinking. Maybe you two can head over to the Red Card group and talk to his coworkers. I'm gonna head over to Santa's hideout and see what's there."
"Great," Sara said. "But who's going to collect the evidence you find.?"
Just then, Greg Sanders walked in the door of the trace lab. Brass, Sara, and Nick all focused on him. "I'll take Santa's little helper here," Brass said.
--5--
A short time later, Brass pulled his car up in front of the residence of Kris Kendrick. Mr. Kendrick had lived on a little side street off Industrial Road. Not a bad house for this end of town. Tan siding, well maintained. After all the guy was a contractor. Sanders exited the passenger side and followed Brass to the door of the two story structure.
Brass knocked. "Las Vegas Police, search warrant!"
No answer.
"Nobody home," Greg said.
Brass turned the knob, and was surprised to find the door unlocked. He motioned for Greg to get behind him. Greg sat down his evidence kit, and drew his pistol. Brass drew his weapon as well.
Greg followed Brass as the detective methodically worked his way through the house. No one was inside. The two men holstered their weapons. Nothing appeared to be disturbed in the house. The bed was a little messed up, but that was all.
"Looks like Santa was real trusting," Brass observed.
"Yeah, too trusting."
"Where you want to start Sanders?"
"Wow Jim, letting me make a choice huh?"
"Well your boss isn't here. Don't push it."
Greg chuckled. "Ok, lets start in the bedroom. See if there's anything unusual in there."
"Why the bedroom?"
"I like Bedrooms. They tell you a lot about the person."
Brass rolled his eyes and followed Sanders to the bedroom.
Once inside, Greg sat down his kit, and pulled out his flashlight. The bed was indeed unmade, but the room wasn't a mess. There were a few dirty clothes in a hamper in one corner. The room also contained a bookshelf and dresser, both neatly organized. A small stereo sat on top of the dresser.
Greg walked to the far side of the bed, weaving his flashlight back and forth. He knelt down and pulled apart some of the sheets that were in a heap on the ground. "Hey Jim, hand me my camera."
"What did you find?"
"Just do it."
Brass pulled a digital camera from Greg's kit and handed it to him. Greg knelt beside the bed, and took a few snapshots. He then pulled on a pair of gloves and lifted a pair of women's undergarments from the floor. "Was there a Mrs. Claus?"
Brass flipped open his notebook. "Nope. Maybe Santa was fooling around with one of his elves huh?"
"Maybe," Greg said. "Let's finish looking around, then we'll go back and see if we can get some DNA off these."
--7--
Nick rolled the CSI Tahoe up in front of Red Card Contractors. He wasn't sure who he and Sara might find here on Christmas Eve, but they had to give it a try. Sara followed him to the door. A small jingle sounded as they entered. There, sitting in a large desk, sat your typical receptionist. A smallish woman of about 55, with a mass of brownish-grey hair piled on top of her head. She wore wire-rimmed glasses and a horrible green Christmas sweater that proclaimed "I got caught kissing Santa Claus."
She eyed Nick and Sara suspiciously. "Welcome to Red Card, can I help you?"
"Yes, Sara said, pulling put her ID card. "We're with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. We'd like to talk to someone about Kris Kendrick."
"Well, Mr. Kendrick isn't here. He plays Santa over at the mall. It's a pretty big day for him today."
"Yes, we know. Unfortunately, Santa's in some trouble."
"What kind of trouble?"
"I can't really say. Is there a supervisor here or someone else we could speak with?"
"No, I'm sorry officers. Everyone's left for the holidays. I was just about to lock up and leave myself."
"Look, we really need to get in touch with someone. Can I get some contact info on his supervisor?"
"Um, just a minute." The receptionist wheeled around and picked up her phone, dialing a number. Nick and Sara waited for five minutes or so while the big-haired woman carried on a muffled conversation and scribbled something on a notepad. She then spun her chair back toward the CSIs and ripped the top sheet of paper off, handing it to Sara. "There's Mrs. Chase's address. She says she'll be home for another hour or so and you're more than welcome to drop by and talk to her. She lives about five miles from here."
"Thank you very much," Nick said. "Merry Christmas."
The receptionist scowled at the CSIs as they departed the office.
Nick drove again and pointed the Tahoe in the direction of their new destination. Sara got on her phone and called Brass. Jim relayed to her what Greg had found in Santa's bedroom. Next, Sara called Bobby Dawson. Bobby told her that the bullet she pulled came from a nine millimeter pistol, same as the gun recovered from the scene, but that's all he had at the moment.
A few minutes later, Nick pulled up in front of the house indicated by the address. As the CSIs got out, they noticed a tan BMW in the driveway, and a couple of suitcases next to it. Nick threw Sara a cautious look.
Sara did the honors this time, knocking on the door. A tall, slender, red-headed woman opened the door. She was wearing a long, black, mock-turtle net sweatshirt. Her long hair went about half-way down her back. She was very attractive.
Sara spoke up. "Hi, we're with the Las Vegas crime lab."
The woman interrupted her. "Yes, the office told me that you were coming. I saw the story about the mall Santa on the news a little while ago. I hope that wasn't Kris!."
"Yes, unfortunately it was. We're having a hard time coming up with any information in this case."
"What can I do to help?"
"Do you know anyone who would want to hurt Mr. Kendrick? Did he have any enemies that you know of?"
"Of course not. Kris was very well liked by everyone. He was always smiling and happy. He just loved everyone. Especially kids. That's why he did the mall santa thing. Kris couldn't have children of his own, he had a low sperm count. So doing that at the holidays was really special to him."
Nick spoke up from behind Sara. "Mrs. Chase, is your husband here?"
"Yes, he's in the shower."
"What does he do for a living?"
"He works in accounts out at Nellis Air Force Base. Why?"
"Just wondering. You guys heading out of town for the holidays?"
"Yes. We're heading up to Salt Lake City tonight. We're going to go ski for a week."
"Alright, we appreciate your time. I know it's not convenient on a holiday. You folks have a merry Christmas."
"Thank you officer. You let us know if there's anything else we can do."
Sara shot Nick a look as they walked away from the door. "What the hell are you doing? That was our only lead!" It was getting dark outside now, and Nick ignored her. Sara was getting frustrated.
Nick walked down and stopped in front of the garbage can on the curb. He looked up at the house to make sure no one was watching. Pulling a mini mag flashlight from his pants pocket, he lifted up the lid. "Didn't it strike you funny that she knew about Santa's sperm count?"
Sara glared at him as he searched the inside of the trash can. "No, not really. It's a common problem for men who can't have children. Office talk, probably."
"When was the last time anyone at our office talked about Sperm counts?"
"Greg, last week. He was bragging."
Nick look backed at Sara, astonished. "You talk to Greg about his sperm count?"
"I didn't solicit the information, Nick."
Nick smiled. "Bring me my kit, will you?"
Sara walked over to the Tahoe and grabbed Nick's kit from the back. She put it down next to him. Setting the lid of the garbage can down. He opened his kit and pulled out a pair of gloves. Then he reached back inside the garbage can.
"Nick....." Sara started to say.
"Relax. Trash doesn't need a warrant." He removed the lone trash bag. Then took a bottle of luminol from his kit. He sprayed it in the garbage can. The bottom lit up and gave off an eerie blue glow in the dark of night. He reached in again, pulling what appeared to be a jacket from the bottom of the can.
"I say we get back to the lab, pronto."
--8--
Brass, Greg, Nick, and Sara all met up back in the trace lab. "This had better be good," Brass said, "I got things to do."
"Come on Brass," Sara said, "You're drinking buddy is out of town."
Brass's eyes narrowed and he stared at Sara.
Nick started the session. "Greggo, you got anything from those panties?"
"Yeah, female DNA. No match in CODIS. Male DNA, seminal contribution. No sperm in the juice though."
"That's because Santa's got a low sperm count."
"What?" Greg asked.
"Mr. Kendrick had a low sperm count. His female boss told us so." As he said this, Nick spread the jacket out on the layout table. It was a blue jacket, that said "Nellis Air Force Base" on the breast. Nick looked real close at the sleeves "Check this out, white fibers."
Sara started to see where Nick was going. "You're thinking transfer."
"Yup. Greg, come get a sample of this blood. There's some high velocity spatter here."
Greg collected the blood as Nick took some fiber samples from the sleeve. He walked over to the microscope table, and in a few minutes, had some slides made up. He opened the evidence envelope containing the fibers recovered at the scene. He then placed them under the comparison microscope. "Come check this out Sara."
Sara walked up and took a look for herself. "They match."
"Yeah, you think that's enough for a warrant, Brass?"
"Let me make a call."
--9--
About an hour later, the CSI Tahoe followed several LVPD cruisers as they headed for McCarran Airport, sirens screaming. Sara had called and found out Mr. and Mrs. Chase had a flight out of town, but it was to Mexico City, not Salt Lake City.
They pulled up in front of the first terminal, the blinking lights from their sirens allowing them to park in the emergency space. Nick and Sara got out and ran after Brass and the LVPD patrol officers. Flashing their badges, they burst through the security check point, which was pretty empty. Most of the night's flights already departed. They were headed for the international gate.
Running as fast they could, they came up on the gate, the flight was boarding. Brass yelled out. "Las Vegas police, stop your boarding procedures." Just as he did this, a man darted out of the line, tossing his carry on bag to the side. "Damn!" Brass said, "Get him!"
Nick kicked it into high gear, and passed up Brass and the uniforms. He chased the man down a long hallway, where the food court area was. Nick knew he might lose him if he made it toa crowd.
The man was in pretty good shape, but his speed was no match for Nick's. He closed the gap in less than a minute. As he approached, Nick lunged at the man, pushing him over and falling on top of him. "Mr. Chase, you're under arrest."
Jim, Sara, and the uniforms caught up to them.
"Where's you're wife?" Brass asked.
"Screw you," Chase said as he spat blood from his mouth.
"Go ahead, bite your tongue, we'll figure it out."
--10--
He couldn't believe it. His wife of 11 years. Cheating. What the hell? What had he ever done to her? Sure she made a lot more money than he did, and she had told him she wished he'd get out of that dead end job, but what? Why this? He hadn't seen this coming.
Now he sat in the mall. It was early, not too many people in here yet. He knew Kris would come about a bit early, that he'd want to be in place before the kids got here. The mall had just barely opened, it wouldn't be long now.
His target appeared from the men's room. Santa outfit. Hah. The image of his wife making love to that fat, jolly loser was just too much. Why the hell did she have to tell him? And during Christmas!
He got up, and looked around. He needed to time it just right, catch him after he passed the last store, the last security camera. His time was NOW!
He reached out and grabbed Kris's hand from behind. Spinning him around. Kris just stared at him.
He didn't know what to say. "Enjoy Christmas in hell," was all he could muster. While still clutching the white, furry sleeve. He raised his pistol to Kris's head, and fired.
Blood sprayed all over, including someon his jacket. He stood in shock for a moment. Then, knowing someone would have heard the shot, he took off running as fast as he could. He only stopped when he got outside, then he dropped the gun in the closest garbage can.
Once he got home, he took off the jacket. He tossed it in the garbage can, then put the days trash bag on top. Then he went for a nap.
Waking up a few hours later, he called and changed his family's vacation plan to Mexico City. He would think when he got there, far away from Vegas. He got in the shower.
After his long, hot shower, he opened thee bathroom door. His wife was standing there. She asked him if he knew someone had killed Kris. She told him the cops had just been at the door. He shoved her aside, and ran to the window. He saw an SUV pull away from the driveway, but more importantly the lid on the garbage can was up. He ran outside, and found the jacket was gone. It was only a matter of time. He ran back up to the house. His wife was standing next to the car. She asked him what he had done, why were the police here?
He hit her in the face, then grabbed her neck and pulled her off the ground. He squeezed, and the felt the life leave her. She fell limp to the ground. He then looked at the Nativity scene in the yard next door. How his life had changed in the last 24 hours. Why had she told him?
–11–
Sara and Nick walked out of the lab toward Nick's car. Greg had found Mrs. Chase's body in the trunk of her car at the airport, choked to death. Brass had been particularly venomous in his interrogation of Mr. Chase, and the killer had wilted, told him everything. Besides that, DNA would soon confirm the panties found in Kendrick's house belonged to Mrs. Chase, and Greg had already confirmed the blood on Mr. Chase's jacket belonged to Kendrick. Mr. Chase was the registered owner of anine millimeter pistol. It was open and shut.
"I just don't get it Nick. We get too many of these cheating wives and girlfriends."
"It's just a pity. You'd think Christmas would be a time where they could heal things. Maybe that's why Mrs. Chase told her husband what had been going on."
"Maybe. You mind taking me home?"
"Not at all." The two got in Nick's car, and he pointed it in the direction of Sara's house. They were both exhausted, and the trip passed in silence.
Nick pulled up in front of Sara's, and killed the engine. He got and walked her to her door. Just as they stepped to the door, the bells of a nearby church rang out the midnight hour. It was now Christmas morning.
Sara glanced at him. "You know, that's the first time I've ever heard church bells in Las Vegas."
"Hey, me too, now that you mention it," Nick replied. "You know we never did get to exchange gifts."
"Damn it," Sara cursed. "I left yours at the lab."
"Hey, don't worry, I did the same with yours, it's been a long day."
Sara turned toward him, and pulled off her beanie hat. Nick saw a tear running down her cheek. "You know Nick, I don't want to be alone on Christmas morning."
Nick bit his lower lip, then took her in his arms. "Yeah, I don't either. That's getting old." Just as he said that, a snow-flake hit Sara's nose. They both looked up as more flakes fell from the night sky.
"That's got to be a sign," Sara said. "Snow in Vegas." She unwrapped his arms. "Why don't you come inside, it's cold out here."
"I'd love to."
The snow continued to fall as Nick clutched Sara's hand in his, and followed her inside.
The End.
Merry Christmas to all the Snicker fans, 2004.