Thanks for all the reviews! Double figures! Now we have to aim for 20. No…I doubt that many people will read it.

And I must confess, once again, about my inability to choose names: Special Agent Rod Walton is actually one of my best friends. (I shout 'RODDY!' at him. He does not laugh.)

I plan for the plot to thicken some more in this chap, and then take shape more next. Sorry if it gets a bit long, please don't stop reading! It'll get good! I promise!

Disclaimer (I keep forgetting it): Don't own Bones. Wish I did. There.

CHAPTER 5:

Brennan leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms, studying the three men with her in the room. Seeley Booth sat opposite Charles Clapham, hands folded on the table in front of him, while the suspect himself slouched in the metal chair he was handcuffed to. His attorney, Wallis, say beside him, hands clasped in his lap, back straight.

Clapham's posture was careless, but Brennan's sharp eyes missed nothing; he was blinking irregularly, dark eyes twitching, settling on everything in the room but herself and Booth. His finger tapped out a deliberately random pattern on the metal tabletop.

'So, you are saying that you have absolutely no proof that my client is guilty of the charges?' Despite his stern bearing, Clapham's attorney was easily the most relaxed out of the four of them.

Booth's reply was cut short as Brennan's cell phone rang shrilly, slicing the tense air like a knife. Apologising with her eyes to her partner, Tempe left the room, going into the adjoining one, where she could still see what was happening.

'Brennan.'

'Dr. Brennan, it's Zack.' Barely contained excitement was clear in her assistant's voice, and noises in the background indicated he was on speaker phone. 'The irregular cuts on the bone, where the parts were removed, it looks like they were made by a saw or some form of serrated blade.' Brennan nodded to herself; she had thought as much.

Angela's voice cut in, confirming her speaker phone suspicions.

'And the first DNA sample came back a few minutes ago. The first body we found has been identified.'

'Who is it?' Brennan asked, knowing the answer would send a family's hopes crashing down. She could tell, from the shake in her best friend's voice, that Ange knew it too.

'His name was Connor Finn.'

BBBBBBBBBB

Booth watched his Bones leave the room, and turned back to the suspect, frowning slightly. He guessed it would be one of the Squint Squad calling, probably Zack. But why? What had they found?

He shook off his thought, and continued the interrogation, on his own until the last few questions. Then a young man, whom Booth recognised as Special Agent Roderick Walton, joined them ('Call me Rod,' he beamed, shaking Booth's hand vigorously). But he brought him a coffee, which Booth gulped down gratefully.

'I've been told to take Clapham to a holding cell for the night.' He explained after the questioning and the coffee were finished, in which Booth had learned almost nothing, except that Clapham had been working in a video rental shop for the past 18 months to make ends meet.

'The night?' Booth looked for his watch. 'What time is it?'

Rod beat him to it. '10.45.' He replied, grinning at him. He looked very young, Booth thought. His pale brown hair stuck up at the front, giving his round face a boyish quality that the older agent assumed must be endearing.

'10.45…' Booth echoed, getting to his feet and rubbing a hand over his aching eyes. It had only been a few days since the first body had been found, and yet it felt so much longer. His body was screaming for rest; his sleep the night before had been troubled, to say the least, and he had been at the Jeffersonian bright and early to meet Bones. Suddenly he found himself leaning on the table for support.

'You look tired, sir.' Rod piped up. 'You should go home and rest. I can take it from here.'

He must be new. Booth thought. Or said, because the young agent answered.

'I got promoted to field agent last month, sir.'

Booth nodded wearily. 'So you don't need me to stay?'

'No, I can handle this.' His face had lit up eagerly. Booth hadn't the heart to disappoint him. He nodded again, and made his way to the door, his limbs growing heavier with each step.

I need sleep. Booth thought. I'll ring Bones tomorrow.

Something flickered in Clapham's dark eyes as he passed, but he thought nothing of it.

I really need sleep…

BBBBBBBBBB

'Brennan! Bren!'

Tempe turned away from Zack, who was holding up a serrated knife to show the effect on a piece of bone, as Dr. Jack Hodgins careered into their midst, something clutched in a gloved fist.

'Hodgins, what is it?'

The 'bugs and slime' man paused for breath, before replying in a rush. 'Your guy Clapham was careful, really really careful. There was no trace of this on his clothes, in his apartment…'

'What is it, Jack?' Brennan interrupted, firmly.

'Sorry.' Her curly-haired friend grinned, bright blue eyes wide with excitement. 'Forensics found traces of iron and carbon–'

'They make up steel.' Zack interrupted, unnecessarily.

'Where was it found?' Brennan endeavoured.

'On the soles of his shoes. Seems he got careless.' He held up the evidence bag in his hand, which held a few grains of material.

Brennan took the bag carefully, with a look close to wonder in her eyes, the look she got when examining a fresh skeleton. And began firing off instructions.