Longish chappie. Enter the criminalists. What happens in Vegas isn't exactly going to stay in Vegas.
Chapter 3:
Who are you? Who-who, who-who?
Who are you? Who-who, who-who?
I really wanna know.
Who are you? Who?
Come on tell me who-a you, you, you,
Oh, you!
February 2005, Las Vegas
"Captain…Captain! CAPTAIN BRASS!"
Captain Jim Brass turned to see 28-year-old rookie, Detective Shannon Martin speed down the hallway and skid to a stop next to him. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a doubled-up ponytail that swayed madly from the sudden lack of movement.
"Whoa, stop. Breath…Now, what?"
"The two-one just called. Said they got a DB just north of Henderson. Someone named Juan Pescado. Primary on the scene said you might want to know."
"CSU on site?"
"Don't know. He didn't say. Hey, didn't you put a guy named Pescado away about 10-12 years ago?"
Brass scowled at the reminder of how old he was. "Yeah, he was a serial rapist. Let's go down to the Geek wing. Grissom probably needs to be dug out of his office."
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CSI Greg Sanders pulled his goggles on top his spiky hair and peered into the microscope in front of him. After a few seconds of twiddling the dials he grinned and turned to lab technician next to him.
"I told you, Mia. It's definitely semen."
Head labratory technician Mia Dickerson gave a lady-like snort, not at all impressed. "You would know."
He rolled his eyes and handed her the slide. "You get to extract the DNA."
Greg caught sight of a very cute, slim brunette walking by the glass windows behind Brass. He gave some lame excuse that barely registered with Mia as she diligently went about her work.
Greg followed them down the hall at a distance, gauging his prey. The young woman looked about his age from the back and had long, black hair; just the way he liked it. She was slender but he could tell she worked out. He watched her intently as her rear swayed down the hall. It was then that Greg saw the gun harness strapped over her fitted shirt and the badge hanging on the hip of her low-riders. She was a cop. Greg grimaced. This was touchy territory, but what the hell, he was always up for a challenge.
Shannon marveled at the hospital cleanliness of the CSI wing of the Las Vegas Police Department. It was so different from the bullpen at the other end of the building. She followed Brass when he turned into a door and immediately blinked. The walls were covered with jars filled with who-knew-what. On the desk was the ever-familiar sight of a mountain of paperwork. Over the door Billy the Bass began to sing and a graying head popped up over the pile of papers.
"Jim?"
"Hey, Gil. Shouldn't you be heading out?"
The CSI Night shift Supervisor, Gil Grissom cocked his head in askance just as the phone rang. "Grissom…hmm…right. I'll have someone out there in about 20 minutes."
Greg stuck his head in the door to try and catch the attention of the young detective and only succeeded in catching Grissom's.
"Greg. Get Sara and head out to Henderson. You can follow Jim."
CSI Sara Sidle, the third person on the night shift's team was still out in the field and Greg reminded his supervisor of that fact.
"Then get Sophia."
"She's got the flu."
Grissom eyed his paperwork and then stood, grabbing his field kit from behind the couch. "Looks like I'm going then."
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At the crime scene Grissom and Brass crouched over the body while Greg took photos and a young officer filled Shannon in on the situation.
"Anything?" Brass asked.
Grissom shook his head in amazement. "Not a thing. No hair, no fibers, fingerprints, or anything. All we've got is this bullet."
Brass smiled wanly. "We chased this guy for four months before we caught him, remember?"
"He always seemed to be just one step ahead of us."
"It cost us three victims before he made one mistake." Brass closed his eyes for a moment, remembering.
"Yes, but we got him in the end." Grissom reassured.
"Too bad someone else got to knock him off. I would've paid good money to have been able to do it myself."
Grissom's only reply was a heavy sigh as Shannon came over with Greg to fill in their supervisors.
"This guy is good, whoever he is." Greg said as he snapped the cap on the lens of his camera.
"According to Trueheart," She hooked a thumb at the young cop, "There's no witness."
"Then who found him?" Brass asked as he stood.
"Parole officer hadn't seen him since he got out a week ago and came calling. When he found the door open he let himself in and found Pescado like this. You find anything Dr. Grissom?"
He tossed the bagged bullet at her and she eyeballed it. "Looks like a .45, maybe. With all the blood and sand coating it, it's hard to tell."
Greg plucked it from her hands and brought it so close to his face his eyes crossed. "Looks like military-issue."
Brass and Grissom both raised an eyebrow at him. He smiled back, his face flushed in embarrassment. "Bobby D's giving me a crash course in ammunition."
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Shannon sat across Brass' desk from him as she flipped through the small Pescado file while Brass sipped at the brine that the LVPD considered coffee.
"I just finished talking to Diana…"
"Who?" Brass interjected.
"Our new lawyer, Diana Forbes. You know…the tall blond with the attitude? Anyway, I just talked to her about the case and she said she'd heard about one very similar to this in New York about a year or two back. I was thinking that maybe you could e-mail them and see if there's something they did that we missed."
"Why me?"
"Well, you're a captain. They'll probably listen to you."
"How about you get on the national database and you look up this case and then e-mail the NYPD."
"Why me?"
"Because, like you said, I'm a captain and you're a detective."
"I hate being low-man-on-the-totem-pole." Shannon groused as she headed out.
A half hour later she sat in front of a computer, nine files open in front of her. Her green eyes widened as she studied each. All had similar MO's and the victims' backgrounds were nearly identical. Her long slim fingers practically flew over the keyboard as she sent e-mails across the country to Arizona and Illinois and even as far as New Jersey and New York.
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Jessica Summers: Join the club.
Lanna-Nailo: Hey, another reviewer. Cool and thanks.