A/N: icklebitodd, hang in there… Sara's chapter is up next! (and then the planetarium case will appear more and more frequently after that, because I enjoy the Sara and Patrick relationship, too!).
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Disclaimer: I do not own any part of CSI or its characters. That honor goes to the good folks over at CBS.
Title: Excalibur: Part 4
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"Hmm… did I hear someone mention something about an interrogation? I love interrogations!" Joan grinned, as she carefully made her way across the lab's ceiling. "But I can't hear much from outside of the room," she mused, frowning, as she tried to maneuver her body closer to the door. Moments later, though, another smile appeared on Joan's lips, as she remembered her best friend, Sampson. Months before, Sampson had widened the crack which connected the hallway to the interview room, thus allowing Joan and all of her friends to have access to the actual interrogations. "Thank you!" she smiled, as she crawled right on through the crack, finally making herself comfortable in one of the far back-hand corners of the room. "Okay, Nicky, I'm here… you can begin, now!"
"I'm clean," Zack Fisher grumbled, staring first at Nick, then at Sofia, and then back at Nick again. "I didn't do anything wrong, I mean it!" Fisher added, staring at his hands.
Don't listen to a word that that man says, Nicky, Joan thought to herself.
Sofia and Nick glanced at each other, Nick raising an eyebrow. Promises from convicted felons did not mean very much to him, and he wasn't sure how much of this guy's story could actually be believed.
Sofia looked across the table at Fisher, speaking in a calm and commanding tone. "Mr. Fisher, maybe you can clear something up for us?" she asked him with a slight frown.
"Of course, anything," he quickly replied, shifting his eyes from the detective, to the CSI, and back to the detective again.
"We have evidence of your fingerprints, Sir, on the stall where Mr. Gead was found dead."
"We all have access to that stall," Fisher pointed out, anxiously running a hand through his hair. "We groom the horses before and after the shows, and put our own tack on the animals. I helped John get his horse ready a couple of nights ago," he added.
Well, that certainly makes sense, Nick thought to himself. All employees would indeed have access to the entire backstage area, and it really would not be all that unusual for one person to help another person get set for the show.
Glancing over at Fisher, Nick frowned. Although he believed that it was possible that Fisher helped Gead prepare his hose, something still seemed funny to him. "Are you okay, Sir?" he finally asked, noticing the sweat drip from the man's hair to his eyes, and down to his nose.
"Yeah, why do you ask?" Fisher mumbled, starting to fidget in his seat.
"You seem like you're… hiding something," Sofia chimed in, finally catching onto Nick's train of thought.
Before Nick or Sofia could probe any further, however, Greg softly knocked on the door, getting his colleague's attention. "I need to talk to you—now," he mouthed to Nick.
Joan looked down at Greg, interested in what he had to say. "What did you find, young grasshopper?" she whispered to herself.
"Excuse me," Nick quickly said, getting to his feet, and nodding toward Greg. Exiting the interrogation room, he sighed. "Tell me you have something for me, Greggo."
Greg ran an excited hand through his hair. "We got the DNA evidence back from the stall. It's a match for Susan Donald…and guess who else?" he asked.
"I'm guessing that it isn't the King…" Nick replied, puzzled. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be this excited…"
"You betcha!" Greg grinned. "It's not a match to the Gead! We have a match for Zack Fisher!"
"So, Fisher was trying to steal something other than the King's role," Nick mused, surprised.
Greg merely smiled, and walked away. Re-entering the interrogation room, Nick rested a hand on Sofia's arm, trying to tell her that he wanted to take over for a moment. Sofia immediately got the message, and let him take the lead. "Mr. Fisher," Nick hesitated, clearing his throat. "Sir, what is your…relationship…with Susan Donald?"
"What?" Fisher asked, mentally snapping to attention. "She's a… friend of mine."
"Sir, we have evidence of your…friendship… with Ms. Donald, found in the stall where Mr. Gead was murdered. Would you care to explain?"
Joan gasped. "Yeah, Mr. Gead… how are you going to explain that one?" she frowned, before her tiny face broke out into her version of a smile.
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TO BE CONTINUED