Chapter Five
The Evidence
"The head wound is superficial." Doc Robbins told Grissom as they stared down at the body on the steel table in the morgue. "At the scene, it looked as if it was deep enough to have caused death, but now that I've shaved his head…" Doc pulled out a measuring instrument and stuck it into the wound, the raw flesh squelching as it yielded to the intrusion of the metal rod.
Grissom bent down, eye level with the wound. Doc was right, the gaping hole in the skull wasn't deep enough to have caused death. The CSI stood up, listening as the doctor continued. "If he was conscience, then the blow would have enough to have knocked him out. But he was probably already dead when the candlestick made contact."
"That explains the lack of blood." Grissom noted, speaking mostly to himself.
"Umm hmm."
"So what did kill him?"
"His heart and lungs are healthy, no tumors or diseases. There are no other wounds on the body, no ligature marks. I did send his blood to the lab, maybe Henry will find something."
Grissom looked at his watch wondering if the lab tech had had enough time to run the tests. "Ok, thanks Al."
--
Nick sat alone in the AV lab, the pictures from Grissoms camera just finished loading, he slipped Catherine's photo card in and still had Greg's to upload, as well as his own.
"Hey," said a deep voice from the doorway.
Nick easily recognized the baritone of his best friend, without turning, Nick answered, "Hey Rick. How'd your B&E go?"
Warrick shrugged and sauntered up to the desk standing just behind Nick and peering over his shoulder. Grissoms photos of Col Mustard and Mrs. Peacock were on the screen, and, as Warrick watched, Cath's pictures of Mr. Green and Professor Plum popped up next to them. "Where the hell have you been?"
Nick snorted out a laugh and turned in his chair to face his friend. "You play Clue as a kid?"
Warrick's eyes lit up with recognition. "Yeah, ok." He propped one hand on the edge of the table and leaned in getting a better look at the screen. "So, what is this, another Sherlock role play thing?"
Nick shook his head. "Not exactly. You ever been to one of those murder mystery things? You know where the audience gets to participate, and then guess who the murderer is?"
"Yeah," Warrick nodded grimly, "a date made me go to one of them a couple of years ago."
"How'd it go?"
Warrick grunted out a laugh "Had it solved before the guy was even dead."
Nick laughed. "Yeah, well, this was that kind of thing, only the suspects are playing the characters from the game."
Warrick's expression shifted into one of appreciation, "Yeah, ok, I get it. So who ended up dead?"
"The actor playing the victim."
"Really?" Warrick asked. "The wrench? The rope? The candlestick?"
Nick pointed a finger at the last one. "Bingo."
Warrick held back a laugh, "Really?"
"No, not really," said a new voice from the doorway.
Both CSI's turned to find Grissom walking into the room. "Robbins says the blow to the back of the head wasn't the COD."
"So what was?" Nick asked and popped out Cath's picture card, loading his own.
"He doesn't know."
Nick cocked an eyebrow at him in response.
"Henry's got the victims blood, I'm headed there now." Grissom turned his attention to the computer screen. Scarlets picture popped up. She'd posed like the starlet she thought herself to be, slightly turned to the left, giving the camera a look that was usually left to the privacy of bedrooms. Gris pointed at the picture. "She's bad news Nicky, not to mention a suspect. Stay away from her."
Nick twitched his head toward his boss, aghast at the idea. "I happen to agree, Grissom. The thought never entered my mind."
Grissom nodded as he stood "Good," he said simply and headed out the door.
Warrick clapped a hand on Nick's shoulder. "The thought never entered your mind? Com'on man, tell me the truth."
Nick grinned embarrassed. "Well, one or two thoughts, at first, maybe. But once I talked to her…" he shook his head. "No way man."
"That bad?"
"She's the kind of girl my momma warned me about."
--
Grissom entered the Print Lab, pausing in the doorway, watching the back of the brunette who sat on the stool next to the table. She was hunched over, thoroughly engrossed by her work, and her lack of response told him that she was oblivious of his presence.
"Sara," he began quietly announcing is nearness.
Sara Sidle flinched at the sound of his voice breaking through her thoughts. She glanced up and offered him a welcoming smile.
"Is that my evidence?" He asked her, concern tugging at his brow.
"Yeah." Sara picked up the candlestick with her gloved hands and held it up for his inspection. "Greg told me about the case, thought I'd lend a hand." She set the candlestick gingerly back down on to the tabletop and picked up the brush, swiping fingerprint powder around the top edge. "Did you ever play it as a kid?"
"Clue?" Grissom asked as he leaned down closer, inspecting the dried blood at the base of the candlestick.
Sara made a face as she set down the brush and turned her head to see if he was teasing or not. "No, Chutes and Ladders."
Grissom smirked at her answer. "Did you?"
"I tried a few times with some of the other foster kids, but eventually they'd stop playing with me."
"You won too often." Grissom offered his observation that he knew had to be true.
Sara nodded with a grin, "Yeah, I did."
He quirked a smile at her, pleased with himself that he knew her well. She held her gaze on him a moment to long, and he uncomfortably shifted his eyes away from hers, again studying the candlestick she was working on. "Acceding to Robbins, the head wound isn't the cause of death, but this did cause a wound on the body, we still need to know whose prints are on it."
Sara took her cue and retuned to dusting print powder on to the smooth silver edge, twisting the base with her other hand as she flicked the brush, covering all sides, several smudges emerged, and as Sara twisted to the final side, a clear set of four prints materialized.
Grissom reached to his right, picking up a tape lift and handed her the card, and watched as she pressed the clear plastic against the groves and ridges of the print the black power had revealed, and pulled away the prints from the candlestick.
Sara held it up between them, "Good," Grissom said, "now let's run it, see who might have hit our victim."
Sara took the print card and rolled her chair over to the scanner, where she scanned in the print, inputting the pattern of groves and ridges into the computer, and immediately began the search, comparing the print to those on file.
"Hey, Griss," Nick came into the Print Lab holding two manila folders "hey Sar," he said noticing his brunette co-worker, then turned his attention back to his boss. "I've got the crime scene photos printed out, and Henry's got our tox results back."
"What'd he find?" Grissom asked, as Sara turned in her chair, interested in the results.
"Cyanide." Nick told them.
"Well…" Sara began.
"Yeah, very Agatha Christie, don'tcha think?" Nick smiled slightly.
"And somehow, appropriately cliché." She had a small, pursed grin on her face. Behind her, the computer beeped and she turned back toward it.
"Sara found prints on the candlestick," Grissom told Nick as they both stepped over to look at the results.
"Who's Angela Lucas?" Sara asked, staring at the screen.
Nick put his fingertips to the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes "Scarlet," he said despairingly.
"Well, she was been busted for shoplifting…" Sara read from the screen, "charges were dropped."
"Hey, Grissom?" Wendy walked into the lab before Sara had a chance to ask Nick about Scarlet. "Found out who spit on your victim." She handed Grissom the report, "I also found a plethora of DNA hits about half of your suspects, including one tidy bit of information you might be interested in…"
Grissom waited a moment for her to continue, then finally prompted irritated, "Yes?"
"Two of your suspects are related to your victim."
