Author's note: I had to get a chapter of Lieu. and I finally learned his first name. Hope you get a smile out of it. Thanks for the reviews. I am working on a few crossover shows for a few of my loyal reviewers. I hope you stay with me until I get them posted.
Previously in this story: Faith and Jelly investigated a body in a car fire and ended up arresting the members of CSI Las Vegas, CSI Miami and the people in Crossing Jordan who were all at a CSI convention. Sully and Bosco tried to arrest Joey Tribbiani for attempted robbery but Bosco inadvertently shot him. Davis and Ty got a call for a break-in and discovered a murder, then arrested Allison Dubois, the medium who solves crimes with ESP. Cruz and Monroe while helping the FBI apprehend terrorists, witnessed the MI team get ambushed and infected with an unidentified virus. This picks up later that night.
Chapter 5 Lieutenant Bob Swersky
The shift is almost over but Lieu is still at the desk answering the phones. It has been a really busy night and it seems that every one of his officers answered a call involving someone important or someone who knows someone important. And Bosco even shot a television star. Lieu has spent the entire shift talking to the press and various police officials from all over the country, and one angry TV network bigwig.
There are twenty nine people in lock up, all bitching about being held for no reason and demanding to be let go and all insisting that this precinct has no idea what they are doing and threatening to get them fired. The more they complain, the easier it is for Lieu to defend his people.
The phone rings again and he closes his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh before he puts the receiver up to his ear. "Fifty fifth precinct, how can I help you?"
"Yes, this is police Chief Vernon Formalderhide. I oversee the Florida chapter of the CSI division and I am on the board of directors for the Eastern Subdivision of Criminal Investigative Services. I am calling on behalf of a team of investigators who seem to have had a run in with a few detectives from your precinct. The team is lead by Lieutenant Horatio Crane."
"I'm afraid I can't give you any information on that case yet, but if you give me your number, I'll call you back as soon as the situation is sorted out."
"Why don't you connect me with someone who does have that information."
"Your people have not been completely processed yet, nor have they been thoroughly questioned. Therefore that information does not exist. Leave your number and I will see to it that you..."
He interrupts Lieu. "That is not acceptable."
"Excuse me?"
"I'd like to speak to someone in charge."
"You are speaking to someone in charge. I'm Lieutenant Swersky, I can spell that for you if you'd like. I am in charge of this shift in this precinct. And as soon as this mess can be sorted out, I will personally call you and explain the situation to you myself."
"Lieutenant, I am outraged by how your detectives have treated my team like common criminals. My people have offered their services, and instead they were hauled away and detained just because your detectives feel threatened by my team's expertise. If you don't want their help in solving this murder that's fine, then let them go"
"We are not detaining your people just to keep them out of the loop. They're being held for questioning in a murder. The murder of a very important doctor of forensic medicine."
"So you're detaining them for hours just to get their statements? I plan to report this incompetence."
"Oh really? I plan to write a report myself explaining how we couldn't even begin to investigate the murder of a colleague because it took five units, two detectives, a team of ten from riot control and one fireman with a big hose to keep your people from stealing or destroying evidence from the murder scene. You're outraged? I'm outraged too. Your people, although very well dressed, are disrespectful and unprofessional. And if they are not found criminal for being involved in the murder, they most certainly will be found criminal for tampering with evidence and hindering an investigation. As soon as I find which crime they will be charged with...I will let you know." He slams the phone down and lets out a growl. That felt pretty good.
A young man with curly black hair walks up to the desk.
"Can I help you?" Lieu asks.
"Actually...I'm here to help you. My name is Charlie Epps and I'm an expert mathematician."
"And how can you help me?"
"My brother is Don Epps, he works for the FBI, and I have in the past helped him solve several cases using 'numbers'. I came up with an equation that proves within a millionth of a degree of error that a crime is going to be committed and it is in your precinct...most likely tonight."
"Really?" Lieu says with mock surprise. "Well I'll be sure to tell my officers to be on the lookout for crime when they hit the streets. Thank you for that information."
"I get it. That's sarcasm right? But if you just let me show you this formula, you'll understand. A bank is going to be held up. Do you have a piece of paper?"
Lieu hands him a post it pad. "Maybe you should just give this information to your brother at the bureau."
"No he sent me here." He pulls off three pieces of paper and sticks them on the counter side by side. "The population of New York City is seven million, three hundred and thirty three thousand, two hundred and fifty three. Divide that by the five boroughs and you get this." He quickly scratches out some numbers then encloses them in a bracket. Then he sticks another paper down.
"Of that number, two thirds of them are unemployed, but one quarter of them receive welfare." He scrawls more numbers down and sticks more post its down. "Take that result and bring it to the third power, then divide by five again...because of the boroughs." He continues his calculations, putting parentheses around some then enclosing more of it in brackets, then adds more post it sheets to the counter.
"Out of the seven million plus people, five sevenths of them carry guns," he is frantically scratching numbers down as he speaks. "but a third of that is women, so take this result, and factor in the ratio of three to two then again divide by five." He adds even more post its to the counter to the left of his first equation.
"There are twenty three thousand, eight hundred and thirty two banks in New York City, divide by five but cube the result and divide by three because this borough is smaller than the rest and that gives you how many banks are in just this borough alone, then take it to the fifth power and divide it by pi and that tells you how many are in a twenty mile circle containing your precinct."
"Does this train of thought have a caboose?" Lieu asks.
"Hold on, I'm getting to the good part. Out of all these banks, you would think that they are located randomly throughout the precinct, but the randomness is what gives us a pattern. If you throw out all the banks that are on the outskirts by multiplying it by the cosine of the original number, that leaves all the banks that get money delivered before three o'clock. Now take the result of the first equation, and add it to the results of the second equation, then divide that by eighty two thousand, seven hundred and seven...the average yearly income of most New Yorkers, and you get the number of unemployed gun owners that live within a three mile radius of any given bank.
Taking into account that one out of every seventeen hundred people are certified schizophrenic, you can divide the result by the original number of seven million, three hundred thirty three thousand, two hundred and fifty three, and that leaves one bank that is out of the normal design and only five possible people that are capable of robbing a bank, and that brings you to the distinct conclusion that..."
Sully and Bosco walk in from the street with a young man in hand cuffs and approach the desk. They take turns telling what happened. "Check this out Lieu, this Jag off was trying to rob the Chase bank with a water pistol." Bosco says.
Sully continues to explain. "His plans were foiled when the plug came out of the squirt gun and the water seeped through his pocked and down the front of his pants."
Bosco jumps in. "The teller started laughing because she thought he wet himself and to prove to her he didn't, he showed her it was a water pistol."
"At which point, the woman hit him with the bag of money and the rest of the people in the bank jumped on him and held him until we arrived." Sully finishes signing in at he desk and follows Bosco as he leads the perp to lockup.
Lieu turns his attention back to Charlie Epps who is staring, mouth open, at his formula, which is thirty five post its long. "That's all wrong. It was suppose to be a Charter One bank and the guy should be in his mid fifties."
"You figured something wrong, Einstein...check your math, did you carry the one?" Lieu asks. He turns away from the kid when he notices Faith and Jelly walk in to the precinct. "And just where the hell have you two been?" he barks.
They glance at each other taken aback by his demeanor, then Jelly responds. "We've been processing the crime scene."
"For five hours?" he growls.
"No...the first two hours we were trying to keep those over dressed vultures from picking it clean." He snaps back.
"I'm glad you brought them up, I've got a house full of pissed off CSIs and I've spent the entire shift talking to their even more pissed off supervisors."
"Well what do you want from us?"
"I want them out of here as soon as possible."
"Well what do you want us to do first Lieu?" Faith shoots back angrily. "We spent two hours gathering evidence from the scene, we had to get the body signed into the morgue, and the car towed to the impound. Then we had to document all the evidence and turn it in. We got twenty three pairs of footprints that we have to check against their shoes, we got smudges and prints on the burnt car that I'm sure belong to most of them too. We have to question them all and that's all before we can even start looking for a suspect, providing of course, we can eliminate them as suspects, because they all knew the deceased."
"And I haven't had a meal break yet. I'm not really worried whether or not 'they' are being inconvenienced." Jelly adds.
"And what should I tell their supervisors when they call back?" Lieu asks.
"Tell them to order their people to start cooperating." Faith says over her shoulder as she follows Jelly up the stairs to their office.
"And where are you two going now?" Lieu hollers out.
"To eat!" they call back in unison.
The phone rings again and Lieu looks at the caller ID. The call is coming from an Arizona PD. "Damn it. Will this night never end?"
The call is from a detective Scanlon who is working on a missing person case. Allison Dubois had told him that the missing woman is dead and he is waiting for her to tell him where to find the body. He has been waiting a few days and hasn't heard from her so he called her home. Allison's husband informed him that she left for New York City that morning because a friend of hers had been murdered and she is being detained at the fifty fifth precinct in connection with that murder. He asks the detective if he will call there and convince them to let Allison come home. Scanlon thinks she is helping them solve the murder and doesn't realize that she is actually the suspect.
Lieu picks up the receiver. "Fifty fifth precinct how can I help you?"
"I'm detective Scanlon. I'm calling from..."
"The Arizona PD...I know."
"That's right. I'm calling to..."
"Let me guess. You're calling because we have someone here that works for you, and you want us to let them go."
"Yah, how'd you know that?"
"I'm psychic." He says sarcastically.
"Then you must know Allison. I'm told you have her there."
"Look, if she's here, she is staying here until we finish questioning her. I don't care who she knows or how important..."
"That's ok...I understand. Keep her as long as you need. I certainly don't want to hinder your investigation."
"Really? You're not calling to complain?"
"No...we're all on the same team right?"
"Yes, exactly. You're the first person all night who has said that to me. Tell me who you're calling about and I'll see what I can do for you."
"Her name is Allison Dubois. I'm working on a missing person and...well when I questioned Allison I found it was a murder. At least she tells me that the woman is dead but she didn't tell me where the body is. Then she ran to New York."
"Wait a minute, she's blonde right? Claims she talks to spirits?"
"Yes that's her. I need for her to tell me where the dead body is, do you think you can get that information from her?"
"I'll tell my people to see what they can do. They're going to be very interested in this information." As he hangs up the phone he sees Ty and Finny. "Wait a minute, where are you guys headed?"
"The locker room. Shifts over Lieu." Ty informs him. "Why...you need somethen boss?"
"I've received information on that blonde nut-job you two brought in. She is wanted in Arizona for a different murder. I'll pass it on to the detectives, you guys can go home."
"Well the detectives left for the day, but I'll run back and add that information to her file." Finney goes to the locker room and Ty takes the paper from Lieu and heads over to the lockup. He steps to the cage and calls to Allison. "Hey, Kreskin...front and center."
Allison looks up, "Me?"
"Yah, how do ya spell your last name?"
She spells out her name, Dubois,then says, "By the way, congratulations."
"For what?"
"The baby. You're gonna be a father."
Ty lets out a scoff. "Yah...right. You're a nut."
A woman in the cage sits down next to Allison. "Excuse me, I didn't mean to eaves drop, but I couldn't help overhearing. Are you...um...are you psychic?"
"Well yes I am. And yes I think I can help you." Allison smiles sympathetically.
"My name is Sarah Sidle. I have a personal question that maybe you can answer for me. Ya see, I'm in love with someone and I can't tell if he loves me back."
"Have you ever tried just asking him?"
"I can't do that. I know his answer will be that we can't pursue a relationship, but I won't know if he loves me or not." Sarah smiles sheepishly and scans the room with her eyes to see that no one is listening, then she whispers to Allison, "Ya see, I work with him. He's my boss. And I don't know if he is being standoffish because of our professional relationship or if he just doesn't care for me. Can you tell me?"
"I'll try." Allison closes her eyes and sighs heavy, unaware that the woman she is talking to is with CSI. "I see him...he likes you very much. He thinks very highly of you." Allison furrows her brow. "Oh dear."
"What? What do you feel?"
"I feel...he has another love. A great deep love."
"He's in love with someone else?"
"He's...well...I feel his love is very very strong. I'm afraid it isn't with you."
"Who is it with?"
Allison has her eyes closed but Sarah can see by her eye movements that she seems to be watching a scene play out in her mind. Her expression turns to puzzlement then to horror as she watches Gil Grissom leaning over and staring at a dead woman. At first she thought that she was getting a sign that the person he loves had died, but then she realizes that he never knew the woman live. His love is over the fact that she is dead. Allison can only interpret this as necrophilia.
She startles herself out of her trance. "Oh my God. I'm afraid you need to let him go."
"Why? What did you see?"
"You're better off not knowing. Just trust me, this man is not interested in you."
Faith and Jelly are eating at their desks and discussing the case and what they plan to do next. They decide to start questioning each person separately and try to match their shoes with a print and once they can account for the prints at the scene, they will release all the CSI people.
Faith finishes her meal and goes down to gather the personal effects of all the CSI people to see if anything they were found with may be from the car fire. She walks past the lockup and Allison gets a bad sensation. She jumps to her feet and calls out to Faith. "Excuse me...I know this is going to sound strange, and I don't want to scare you but...your husband is very ill."
"Good." Faith says, then walks right on by.