Chapter 4 – Suspicions.
Disclaimer – I don't own CSI, I don't rule the universe, and I'm pretty sure Marg and Jorja have stopped taking my calls! And then there was the incident with Mr. Petersen, oh boy, I don't even want to go there...bad karma, dire consequences, etc.
However, I DO own Detective Denver and IA agent Phelps. Hahaa!
Notes – Spoilers from 'Jackpot' and 'Early Rollout'.
By the next morning the whole lab had heard the news. A compliance print in the Ecklie case, with no leads from AFIS as to whom it might belong to. To make matters worse, even though they were meant to make matters better, Internal Affairs had been called in, and were examining personnel files and conducting private interrogations.
All with their usual charm, decorum, and subtlety, of course.
Archie Johnson was on his way to the AV lab to process a highly confidential tape (in reality one of his many Iron Maiden recordings), when he accidentally got in the way of IA agent Phelps. He said "Sorry. Excuse me." She replied, pleasantly enough "Shut up and get out of my way." This can be regarded as a good example of the atmosphere in the crime lab.
Bear in mind that on Phelps' scale this was the absolute pinnacle of good manners. During the numerous interrogations she seemed to regard as an alternative means of sustenance, she rarely had the patience for such etiquette.
Naturally, by the end of that day, levels of paranoia and suspicion had reached a new high, not to mention irritability, tiredness and frustration. All in all, IA were doing what they did best; taking a bad situation and making it worse. And doing a damn fine job, too.
"How could it be compliance? I mean, who here would side with Ecklie?"
The CSI's, cops and lab techs were all gathered in the break room, wondering what the IA investigation would turn up (if anything), and how it would affect the crime lab. They had all had their prints taken, and each set was being run through AFIS against the unknown compliance set.
"We'll find out soon enough. At least, that's what that damn IA lady said." Vega was the picture of discomfort. Truth be told, the idea of a traitor in the crime lab was an anathema to him. He still couldn't believe it, really.
They had sat in quiet thought for almost an hour, waiting for the results. Wondering. Finally Sara had broken the silence, and the others were all too glad to speak up. They needed the conversation.
Catherine turned to a morose Grissom. "Listen, Gil, don't think I'm saying anything against you, but, you and Ecklie were partners once. Out of everyone here, you always tried to be civil to him and call him Conrad instead of Ecklie. Is it possible that you...?"
Grissom held up his hand. "I know where you're going with this. I haven't been to Ecklie's house recently, although he did invite me, back when we were a team. It was...awkward, even then. I suppose it's presumptuous to use the expression 'hate at first sight' but I have to admit, that's what it felt like."
Cath leaned back. "You're right. I'm sorry."
"It's okay."
Nick turned to Greg. "What about you? Greggo? I mean, from what Atwater told us, this whole Ecklie bust thing was your idea to begin with. You had to get him to trust you, and with Ecklie that's hard." Murmurs of agreement from the room in general. "If you went to his house with that mission, then that wouldn't carry any implications for you. You'd have a cast iron excuse for your prints being there." Nick's voice offered a reassurance that no one else in the room felt.
Greg shook his head. "Ecklie never fully trusted me. At least, not enough to let me enter his house, even if I wanted to."
Sophia Curtis spoke up. "Perhaps we're looking at this the wrong way. I don't think it was a CSI who went to Ecklie's house." Her eyes were narrowed thoughtfully. "Has anyone considered the coroners?"
Detective Travis turned to face her. "What? Doc Robbins and that David kid? Why would they be involved in something like this?"
"Well, I checked the cases Ecklie had screwed with before we busted him, and it turns out that one of them was a case me and Mitchovitch from days worked, back when I was on days, that is. This guy beat a man to death with some kind of blunt object. Doc Robins said that he couldn't determine the cause of death, and then two days later David Philips lost the body. He got three days unpaid leave." Sophia's tone was introspective, calculating.
"Balls." Greg broke in. "It's not the Doc, it's not David, and it's no-one in this room. It's Hodges!" For he was, indeed, not present.
Warrick sighed. "Greg, you know you can't just go around accusing people just cause you don't like 'em!"
"Oh, come on! I mean, he brought Ecklie a card when he got his promotion! Did anyone else here do that?"
"I did." Sophia looked sullen. "Before he demoted me, that is..."
"Um...I,I did, kind of..." The crime lab's intern receptionist Judy raised a trembling hand. She looked on the verge of tears, as if she had committed a moral atrocity. "I...I just thought i-it would be a n-nice gesture" she said hurriedly. "I didn't know he was such a horrible man until..."
"Whoa, whoa, slow down." Catherine said comfortingly. "It's not illegal to send your boss a card, even if he is an asshole. You didn't break a code of honour or anything like that."
Greg tried to draw attention away from an increasingly uncomfortable Judy. "Okay, my point is that Hodges has always been a real kiss-ass when it comes to Ecklie. If someone came to him with a deal, I bet he would go for it."
"Yeah, but bets aren't good enough Greg. You need evidence." Grissom was grinning wryly at him. "And you need to forget the fact that you and Hodges are rivals at pretty much everything, and concentrate on the case."
"Yeah, I've been concentrating on the case." O'Riley spoke up. "And I'm thinkin', maybe we should be checkin' out the lab techs. All the evidence goes through them." he continued, steadfastly ignoring the cries of outrage from several of the lab techs present, including Mia Dickerson, Archie Johnson, and Bobby Dawson. "If I was gonna grease some palms, that's where I'd go."
Bobby Dawson rose to the challenge. "Well, fuck you too, O'Riley! Maybe we should be checking on ageing cops in cheap, off-the-rack suits!"
The old New Yorker turned to the Texan calmly. "Hey, don't say anything about my clothes pal. I paid for these clothes."
Dawson raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "Oh yeah? And that Ferrari? You didn't get that on a cop's salary."
"Children! Play nice." Grissom growled warningly from the corner.
Then Detective Cavaliere threw his oar in. "What about Catherine? Y'know, I've always wondered, where DID all that money come from? One minute you're finances are sucky, then suddenly you're on easy street. What's that about?"
Catherine didn't bother looking at Grissom. She knew she wouldn't get any help from that quarter, and she didn't need it. Putting a restraining hand on an irate Warrick's shoulder, she looked Cavaliere straight in the eye, an action the Hispanic detective found far more difficult.
When she spoke, her words carried frostbite with them. "Not that it's your business, or anyone's business for that matter, but that money didn't come from Ecklie. It came from Sam Braun. My father." Coming out of her mouth, the word 'father' sounded like an infectious disease. "He gave me the money because as much as I didn't want to admit it, I needed it. Would you like to know why?"
No one in the room spoke. They all felt like they were listening to something they shouldn't be hearing. Yet none of them could quite make themselves leave the room...
Catherine continued, and as before, her voice was iron lined with ice. "Because roughly a year ago, my mother was declared bankrupt. She lost her home, her job, her whole life."
The atmosphere in the break room had turned from one of suspicion to one of stunned sympathy inside five seconds. No one, not even Grissom, had known about this.
"My mother begged me not to tell anyone, but somehow Sam Braun found out. He gave me the money in order to help her get back on her feet. She would never have accepted the money from him directly, not after all these years..."
Grissom nodded slowly, finally understanding. The stubbornness of Catherine's mother was legendary. He could imagine how painful it would have been for her to even accept the money from her own daughter, let alone from the man who left her with child all those years ago.
Catherine continued, voice thick with cold anger. "As it was outside of the lab's jurisdiction, I had hoped that I would be allowed to simply let my mother get back on her feet with some of her dignity intact. But news travels fast, and apparently this crime lab cannot let even one thing slide. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate being made to break my promise of silence. Thank you so much."
Catherine's burning stare swept the whole room before she dropped her head. No one could quite bring themselves to look at anything but the floor, and Cavaliere felt like ramming his head through the nearest wall.
The resulting atmosphere of awkward silence lasted for another fifteen minutes, then Jaqui Franco came in with Agent Phelps. "I've got the results on th..." was as far as Franco got before Phelps snatched the paper out of her hand.
"You're all clean. Get back to work." Phelps stalked off with every hint of a hunter whose prey has eluded her.
Jaqui sent a venomous glare after Phelps, then turned to the room at large. "As I was saying, the compliance print doesn't match anyone in this room. Including me. Damn IA bitch, making me run my own prints..."
Greg opened his mouth. "And no Greg, it's not Hodges." Greg closed his mouth.
"So who is it?" Sophia was waiting eagerly.
"Unknown. Whoever it is doesn't work at our crime lab, not unless he or she has got two sets of prints." Jaqui looked ready to hit the wall.
"But that's not possible!" Sara's voice reflected her frustration. "Compliance means someone in this department!"
"I just..." For the first time since she took her job, Franco looked genuinely lost. "I don't know what to do...I guess I could run the compliance print through AFIS..."
"Why bother? You'll just get the same result. Compliance with no name attached." Nick's voice was grim.
"There is one glimmer of hope on the horizon." Jaqui brightened marginally. "I didn't get a chance to run it until now, what with IA buzzing around, but the compliance print wasn't the only one in Ecklie's house. There was one last set that Catherine lifted off a door handle. These prints aren't in AFIS either, but I can tell you this: these prints are the biggest damn prints I have ever seen in my life! It's possible that the guy you're looking for is macro dactylic."
Franco handed the sheet to Grissom, who could clearly see that she wasn't kidding. The radius from outer to inner terminus (the distance from the centre of a finger to it's outer edge) was easily twice the size of a normal print!
"Marco...what now? What the hell are you talking about, Franco?" O' Riley wasn't an expert on technical terminology, which in fact made him and half the cops in the room.
"If you are macro dactylic it means you have abnormally long fingers, but these are unusually wide as well as long." Grissom, of course, was already on it. "The fingers are, proportionally, the same as anyone's, only much larger."
"So...if this increased size can apply to the rest of our suspect's body as well as the hands..." Sara was painting a picture in her mind. Grissom made it crystal clear.
"Then we are looking for a very big person. In fact, a giant."
Author's Note: Perhaps the whole bankrupt mother thing was a bit much, but I felt like putting the issue to sleep. Anyway, please read and review. I need to know how I'm doing.