"Time of death is Thursday last week. Approximately ten past eleven in the morning. Single stab wound to the lower torso. Cause of death blood loss." Doctor Robbins told Warrick and Catherine.
They nodded. "Anything else? Anything unusual?" Catherine asked, hoping that the body might hold some clue as to who had done this.
Robbins shook his head. "That's it. No bruising anywhere, no signs of a struggle. Nothing."
The room fell into silence. "This is weird." Warrick mumbled.
"Tell me about it." Catherine mumbled in agreement. "She must have known this person really well."
"Well obviously not if this is the result." Robbins replied, pulling the sheet back up to cover Jane's body. "Sorry I couldn't be of more help."
Warrick and Catherine nodded, thanking himbefore making their exit. "So I guess that means we've definitely gotta question Greg." Warrick said as they headed down the corridor.
"And the rest of the family. One of them has gotta have some idea of who could have done this."
~~~
Greg shifted uncomfortably in his seat, making a mental note not to do anything that would end up with him back here. He was in one of the buildings many interviewing rooms sat opposite Brass and Catherine, waiting for Warrick and Grissom to arrive.
"Don't worry Greg, you're not a suspect." Catherine reassured him, noticing his agitation.
He nodded and half smiled in acknowledgement of her statement, nervously drumming his fingers on the table. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the door to the room opening.
"Hey." Grissom said, walking in and taking a seat, Warrick following him. "Nick and Sara have gone to do a secondary survey of the whole house. They're gonna call if they find anything useful."
Catherine nodded, turning back to Greg. "So far we've got no leads. Nothing we can go on. We're hoping you can shed some light on the family situation."
"Any enemies, arguments, feuds." Warrick added.
Greg bit his lip and shook his head. "I really don't think I'm gonna be much help, but I'll try."
"That's all we're asking." Brass told him.
"First Greg." Grissom began, "I just wanna check. Where were you last Thursday, late morning?"
Greg gave Catherine a startled look. "You said I wasn't a suspect!" He blurted out, panic evident in his voice.
Catherine shook her head reassuringly. "You're not." She told him.
"It's just standard procedure." Warrick continued. "It's fine. It's not you."
Greg nodded, shifting in his seat. "I was at home, sleeping."
"Anyone see you at home?" Brass asked.
Greg's face again showed panic. "I live alone." He mumbled quickly. "But, I only left here at around half nine. It's a thirty minute drive to my house, but on the way home I stopped at the diner down Fremont Street, I got in at about eleven, went straight to bed." He told them, hoping that cleared him as a suspect.
Brass mumbled something under his breath and looked at the file he'd bought with him for a moment, showing it to Grissom, before passing it on and continuing with the questioning. "Okay, let's move on. When was the last time you saw your mother?"
Greg shrugged, his brow furrowed slightly as he thought. "A while back." He scratched his head. "Maybe two years ago?"
Warrick looked confused. "Two years ago?"
Greg nodded. "Yeah."
"Where did you see her two years ago?" Grissom continued, ignoring the oddity of the lab techs response.
"I bumped into her in the grocery store." Greg replied, shifting slightly.
"Let me get this straight a second Greg." Catherine started, looking up from the file. "You live in the same city as your parents. But the last time you saw your mother was two years ago?" Greg nodded. "And now she's dead you feel… what?"
Greg shrugged. "I… please don't put me on the spot like this Catherine." He pleaded at the look on her face. "Our family isn't like what you think."
Catherine still had a look of disappointment on her face, but it softened slightly at the young mans last comments. "Then what is it like?" She asked.
Greg shifted again. He didn't think he'd ever been in such an uncomfortable room in his life. "It's… well it's like…we're…" He sighed, rubbing his eyes with his hands. "Okay." He said taking a deep breath. "We weren't like a family… when you're thinking about us, trying to place us, don't think about us sitting round the table eating dinner together. Don't think of us as going on family trips together, or family holidays together, because we didn't. Never. Not once. Yeah, we'd all eat at the same table at the same time. We'd go out and on vacation at the same time, same place, same plane, hell even same row seats. But we weren't together."
"I don't understand." Warrick put in as Greg paused.
Greg sighed again. "We were for show. We weren't a family, weren't their kids. We were just there for show." He told the four, a hint of bitterness in his voice.
"So you were adopted?" Grissom asked.
Greg shook his head. "No… look. My Dad, William, was a big business man. You know, had the car, the house, the contacts, the family, the works." He paused. "It was like a movie. The movies with the hotshot businessman in, who have everything. My dad was one of them… like straight out a movie." He paused again, his face darker as anger he'd suppressed over years began to make its way back to the surface. "The only way you get to be one of them, to get that high up, is to fill all the criteria. You've gotta have a degree, the right car, the right look, the right house and the right family. We had to be perfect. If he had colleagues round, then one of us would have to go in and say hello to our Dad with a kiss on the cheek, because we'd 'been out' at the mall or the cinema or whatever just to make an appearance in the meeting so he could show us off. We had to be polite and loving and go and say hello to him. We were never there as their kids. Only ever for show."
"Greg—" Catherine began.
"You don't understand Catherine. That's how it was. Ask anyone. We were perfect. We were freakishly perfect. Tim was the jock, Carrie was the smart girl, I was the nerd and Marie was the cheerleader. We had one in the all four main high school groups. We didn't even wanna be there. We had no real friends, and no real family." He paused, staring at his hands for a minute. "Prior to the grocery store, I'd seen my mother once since I left home at eighteen. I've only seen my father that once too. My brother I've seen once since he left for university, the same with Carrie. And other than today, I haven't seen Marie since she left home. We weren't a family. We're not a family. I really don't think I can help you." He finished, his anger suddenly giving way to fatigue. He paused, before speaking up quietly. "Sorry."
"Wait, I thought Marie was younger than you." Warrick asked.
Greg nodded. "She is."
"But she left home before you?"
"She wanted to get out of there more than all of us put together, which is saying something. The one time we all went back after having left, she didn't go. The house was burgled. Mom and Dad attacked. We were all supposed to go back and check they were okay. Try and be a normal family. Tim told us we all had to… you don't screw around with Tim, you do what he says… Anyways, Marie didn't show. Tim lost it. I dunno what happened next. We were only there for one day."
"That doesn't explain why she left before you. How old was she?" Brass asked.
"Fifteen, sixteen." He shrugged. "Somewhere around there. We were all supposed to leave at eighteen; I was supposed to leave next. One day she came home from school though, livid. She was screaming and shouting and crying about something. That went against her 'role', they even told her so. Said it wasn't like her. She went crazy at that, actually crazy." He let out a bitter laugh. "I was nearly scared of her. She'd always been the youngest one, who we all had to protect. I guess I was too wrapped up in the whole perfect family portrait thing to realise that that wasn't anymore her, than 'I' was Me. Anyway, she was furious. Went up stairs grabbed her bag and left."
"Did you try and talk to her?" Grissom asked.
Greg nodded. "Yeah, she gave me a number. Moved up into Oregon into our Grandparents old house. Finished high school and went to university."
"Your parents ever catch her?" Brass inquired.
Greg paused, the nodded once. "Dad did. Four months later. He uh… went up one day. Came back three days later."
Warrick spoke up. "Was Marie with him?"
Greg shook his head. "No. I rang her, checked she was still alive 'n' all." He laughed slightly at his joke before realising what he'd said, then shifted again, continuing. "She wouldn't answer any questions. Next thing I know though, she's doing a financing degree."
"Why is that significant?" Warrick pressed.
"That's not what she wanted to be. None of us really wanted to be where we ended up. Tim never wanted to be military, once he got there though he changed, does things and says things I never thought he'd do. Carrie never wanted to be a lawyer either. She wanted to work with children. Now she can't stand them, I guess law does that to you."
"And Marie?" Catherine questioned.
"And Marie never wanted to do finance." Greg said simply. "She wanted to be a dancer." He laughed sadly. "More than anything. She'd dance everywhere, in her room, down the street, around the house. Mom and Dad didn't approve. She always knew that. They used to shout, but she'd shrug it off." He shrugged. "I guess it never changed. She's doing a post-grad degree in it now… Doesn't dance, doesn't really move… she's even more of a bitch now…" He trailed off.
"What about you?" Brass asked.
I…" He paused, avoiding their stares for a moment. "I was lucky, I liked science, maybe not as much as I was supposed to, but I did. I got lucky, I was supposed to be a doctor, I told my parents I was studying in medical school. The just signed the cheque for the fee's never questioned what I was actually doing."
"So do you think Marie could have killed your mother as revenge for making her take finance at university." Grissom questioned, his tone showing his wasn't convinced by Greg's story.
Greg looked slightly startled. "Marie could never kill anyone. She—"
"Could any other of your brothers and sisters?" Grissom interrupted.
Greg shook his head. Then, after a pause said. "Tim maybe." Having caught Grissom's stare. "But look, I… you don't know them like I do. They would never… kill anyone."
"Greg." Grissom said softly. "You just spent the last half hour explaining how you didn't know them, it could very well have been one of them."
Greg opened his mouth to reply, but shut it when no words came. He shifted uncomfortably before looking up to Catherine. "Can I go now?"
She nodded and offered him a small smile. "Yeah."
~~~
"Well if it was one the family, we've got plenty of motive now." Grissom said after Greg had left.
"That's some screwed up stuff right there, man." Warrick replied.
"Tell me about it." Catherine said, looking over the Brass's file again. "So we going after the other brother and sister's then?"
"We're gonna have to." Brass replied. "I'll get on it. They're probably coming in for the funeral. Just one thing though. Greg's story, about getting to his house that morning is all good and well. But his parent's house isn't that far away. He could have been to the diner and to theirs three times over before eleven…" He told them.
The room was silent for a moment, before Catherine spoke up. "We'll get the siblings at the funeral."
Grissom opened his mouth to speak but his cell phone ringing cut him off. "Grissom." He said into it. "Sara, you find anything? … Cell phone? Okay, we'll get the records, anything else? … really? … okay … Bye."
"What'd she say?" Warrick asked as he hung up.
"She said they found Jane Sander's cell phone in the living room. Two sets of prints on it. One set's hers, the other unidentified." Grissom replied.
"Could be nothing." Catherine commented.
Grissom nodded. "Or, it could be everything."
