Disclaimer: CSI blah blah blah not mine blah blah blah waffle iron blah blah blah.
Warrick watched as the paramedics carted away the body of David Carson in a black body bag, then got to work. Mrs Carson was no help at all.
"I don't know why you're doing this," she said at one point. "You're going to find our fingerprints over everything. It's not going to make any difference."
"Just doin' my job, ma'am." Warrick said through clenched teeth.
"Well, you're going about it all wrong!"
Eventually, Mr Carson was able to convince his wife to go check up on the kids. "Sorry about that," the man apologised when Mrs Carson was gone, "She can be... difficult."
That's the understatement of the century, Warrick thought darkly. He lifted up the newspaper. Underneath was a bottle of pills. Warrick shook it experimentally. Only a few tablets clattered around inside.
"Didn't you say your father took heart pills?" Warrick asked Phillip.
The man nodded. "Yeah, he went in for an operation recently, and the doctors gave him pills to take every four hours."
"How recently?"
The man paused, thinking. "About a week ago, I guess."
The label on the bottle said 'Contains 150 tablets'. Doing the math, Warrick frowned. "If he took one every four hours for a week, that means there should be a lot more in here. He shouldn't have taken any more than 45."
Warrick's thoughts were interrupted by a shrill beeping coming from somewhere near the entertainment system.
"That's dad's clock," Phillip explained as Warrick rose to his feet. "We set it to go off every four hours, and dad takes a pill whenever the clock goes off." The man's mouth twisted wryly. "It was my wife's idea."
Mrs. Carson waves the clock in David Carson's face, speaking loudly and shrilly. "Every time this clock goes off, you take one of these pills, alright? And only one pill! Don't forget it!" She sets the clock on the counter, and repeats her instructions. Four hours later, the clock beeped insistently, and David, obediently, took a pill. Four hours later, the clock rang again, and David took another pill.
Phillip bowed his head, saddened to see his father reduced to this state.
Warrick picked up the clock, and pressed the button on the side. On the front of the clock, the timer reset - and started counting up from zero. Might as well bag it, he figured, You never know - it might be evidence. He slipped it into a bag.
"Your father just won a whole lotta cash, didn't he?" Warrick asked Phillip conversationally.
Phillip nodded. "Oh, yeah, I always buy him one of those lucky tickets from the gas station, put his name on the receipt. Turns out he won half a million just last week. All the money is in his account."
"So if he dies, who does the money go to?"
"That's enough, Phillip." Mrs Carson came in, one of the children in her arms and the other trailing behind her. Both children looked very alert. The woman glared at Warrick. "I think you've asked enough questions for tonight. Why don't you come back at a more decent time, when we're all awake?"
"Your children look wide awake," Warrick said, "Do you think I could talk to them?"
Mrs Carson stiffened. "I said, I think it would be best if you came back at a more decent time."
"He fell asleep," the child behind Mrs Carson's legs whimpered. "He does that a lot, in front of the TV."
"Craig..." Mrs Carson warned.
"Oh, let him speak, Janine." Mr Carson interrupted. "The sooner we tell them what happened, the sooner they'll leave." Warrick didn't turn around, but he could tell from the man's tone of voice that Mr Carson was siding with him.
Mrs Carson's lips tightened, but she nudged her older son forward. "Go on, Craig. Tell the man everything." She made the word sarcastic, but her child moved towards Warrick with all seriousness.
"We were playing on the Nintendo." The ten-year-old said, looking up at Warrick with a mixture of awe and fear. Probably thinks I'm a cop, Warrick thought wryly. The kid looked up to his mother then continued, "We were having turns. We were being fair."
"My turn now!" Toby shouted at his older brother. "You heard it! It's time!"
"Not now! I'm almost winning!" Craig yelled back.
"I'll tell grandpa, and he'll tell MOM!"
Craig scuffed his feet on the carpet. "Well, when it got dark, we stopped playing games, and I gave Toby a glass of milk, and we both brushed our teeth and went to bed. Mom and Dad came home later, and they woke me up. So I went downstairs to play more games, and Toby came with me..."
Warrick nodded. "Alright, go on."
Craig's lip trembled. "I sat on the couch, next to grandpa, and... and he fell over. He hit his head and he wouldn't move. Toby came down, and I told him to call the police. Then Mom came in and told us not to, but Toby had already called and the police were coming..."
"Alright, that's enough." Mrs Carson interrupted. She scowled at Warrick. "Have you heard enough?"
Warrick looked up at the woman, his patience replaced with dark suspicion. "More than enough, ma'am."
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The autopsy room was cold and silent, and Dr Robbins was the only person in there.
Only living person.
Matthew Hunter lay on the autopsy table, face-up, covered only by a thin plastic sheet. Dr Robbins whistled to himself as he hobbled towards the body. Nick and his partner are going to get a big surprise from this one, Robbins chuckled.
The door opened, pulling in traces of conversation between Nick and a red-head in a navy suit. Both of them grabbed scrubs off the wall and put them on before coming over.
Dr Robbins looked up from the body on the table. "Hey Nick." He nodded to Valerie. "And Miss...?"
"Valerie Wilks." Valerie said, tying her hair back. "Temporary transfer from Seattle."
Dr Robbins shook Valerie's hand. "Welcome to the family." Valerie smiled back.
"So, doc," Nick said, businesslike, "What do we know about Matthew Hunter?"
"Well I heard about Valerie's theory that your trophy hunter was stabbed by an animal horn..." Dr Robbins pulled back the sheet covering the victim's body, revealing the gaping stab wound. Cleaned, it was still gory. "And for a while, I agreed with her."
"For a while?" Valerie raised an eyebrow. "What did you find?"
Dr Robbins tilted his head. "Are you sure you're not a younger version of Catherine?" When Valerie looked blank, the coroner shook his head. "Sorry. But you reminded me of the CSI you're temporarily replacing."
"I'll take that as a complement," Valerie said with a slight smile, "But you didn't answer my question."
"GSR."
"Hold up," Nick frowned. "You found gunshot-residue... in a stab wound?"
Dr Robbins shrugged. "Don't blame me for finding another piece of the puzzle."
Valerie said nothing, but sighed through her teeth.
"So," Nick elaborated, "We're not only looking for a knife, we're looking for a gun?"
"I know you CSI's are big into theories," Robbins said, grinning, "So how about you listen to mine?" With a nod from Nick, Robbins continued, "He was shot, close range, started bleeding. Then, to hide the bullet wound, the shooter grabs an animal-horn knife and stabs him, over and over again."
The bullet ripped though the body, narrowly missing the spine. The bullet pierced open the stomach, spilling stomach acid onto the surrounding organs. The body started destroying itself with its own defences. But before the damage became too great, the knife entered, tearing open the narrow bullet-wound, forcing a wider, gaping hole through the man's gut. The knife opened up veins and arteries, severed the small intestine, and then pierced out the back. Blood spurted everywhere - it couldn't have taken more than a minute for Mr Hunter to bleed to death.
"Two weapons, one murder?" Valerie smiled wryly. "Never seen that before."
"Welcome to Vegas." Nick shrugged.
A/N: Nick has not yet been recommended as Lead CSI, Greg's only outing was on 'Chasing the Bus' and Sara and Grissom still can't get it together. Grissom also doesn't have that weird beard and Nick hasn't shaved his head. A season two-based fanfic with a great many salutes to seasons three and four. Reviewers get cyber-cookies.