Drowned
1
Eleanor Bishop frowned when she entered the bullpen and saw Agents Nick Torres and Alex Quinn standing in the aisle between her and McGee's desks. She took up a spot behind them, placing her bag on her desk.
"What's going on?," she asked.
"We don't know," said Torres.
Quinn gestured at a stranger sitting at Gibbs's desk. He wore a coat that draped around him as he read files open on the desk top. Eyebrows gave a quizzical expression to the serious face underneath.
"Who's this?," Bishop asked her colleagues.
"Don't know," said Torres. He kept his voice down. "I don't think he knows whose desk he's sitting at."
"Why is everyone whispering?," asked Agent Timothy McGee. He stood behind the group. He placed his bag beside his desk. As the senior agent, he had inherited Tony DiNozzo's desk, while Bishop had Ziva David's. Torres and Quinn were in his old space with desks facing each other.
Quinn gestured at the stranger sitting at Gibbs's desk again.
McGee's look of puzzlement changed to a puzzlement of another flavor. He pushed through the trio and approached the stranger.
"Dr. Sear?," said McGee. "How are you?"
"Hello, Agent McGee," said Dr. Sear. His eyes looked beyond the agent, unfocused and vague. "It's good to see you again."
"Are you here to consult with Abby, or Ducky?," asked McGee. "I'm sure someone would have taken you downstairs."
"No," said Sear. "I'm here to talk to Agent Gibbs."
"About what?," said Gibbs. He stood behind the partition to his cubicle, cup in hand.
The agent's sharp eyes didn't miss his team jumping at his sudden appearance. Sear just turned to look at his face. The vague expression hid something there like a mask.
Gibbs didn't want to dig into another man's secrets. He had enough of his own to keep him for the rest of his life.
"I need the Navy's help," said Dr. Sear.
"We talked about channels," said Gibbs.
Sear had a habit of using Abby and Ducky to gain information on cases that didn't belong to NCIS. Murders were solved, but it felt like he was taking advantage of Gibbs's friends.
And Gibbs didn't like that at all.
"The Navy is stonewalling me," said Sear. "I need to find a ship that left Baltimore. All I get back is national security and unable to comply with your request."
"I take it this is a murder," said Gibbs. He sipped at his coffee.
"Maybe," said Sear.
McGee and Gibbs assumed the same expression. They had both dealt with the doctor. He tended to only make statements that couldn't be disproved.
Gibbs knew it was a murder. Cole Sear was a medical examiner for the city of Baltimore. He didn't drive down to the Navy Yard in Washington on a hunch about an accident. Whatever else he hid about himself, that was a certainty.
"I'm going to need something, Doc," said Gibbs. "I can't just hand you Navy ship movements."
"What I have is a best guess," said Sear. He handed over the file he had been reading. "My investigator worked in the Harbor Patrol. When the body showed up, he backtracked the current to four ships. Three of them were searched, but the fourth, the U.S.S. Hawthorne had already sailed."
Gibbs put down his cup and pulled on his glasses and scanned the material in the file. He frowned at several key facts that jumped out at him.
"I'm going to talk to Director Vance," said Gibbs. He tucked the file under his arm. "Get up and sit somewhere else."
The senior agent headed for the staircase dominating part of the room. He strode upwards, sipping on his coffee.
Sear stood. He looked thinner than McGee remembered from their first encounter. He looked like he hadn't slept well either.
"Would you like some coffee?," asked McGee.
"You still have the snack machine?," asked Sear.
"Sure," said McGee. He gestured for the doctor to precede him. "They never fixed the thing either from when you were here last."
"That's good," said Sear. He hunched in his coat and led the way to the break room. He bought a bottle of Sprite and kicked the snack machine. A honey bun fell down in the bay for him to retrieve.
"How are things in Baltimore?," asked McGee. He sat down at one of the tables.
"About the same," said Sear. He sat down opposite McGee. "How have things been here? I haven't talked to Abby, or Dr. Mallard, in a while."
"We had some changes," said McGee. He looked up. His junior agents watched the both of them from the doorway.
"DiNozzo and David?," said Sear. He carefully opened the snack package. "I didn't see them."
"Tony resigned and moved to Paris with his daughter," said McGee. "Ziva died."
"I'm sorry," said Sear. "I should have talked to Abby and Dr. Mallard more. I have been really busy."
"Don't worry about it," said McGee. "Ziva didn't like the gift from Chip Staley."
"Really?," asked Sear. "Why?"
"It blew up in her face," said McGee with a smile. "Covered most of Tony's desk."
"That Chip Staley," said Sear. His face didn't show any amusement.
Bishop hopped up and down. She brushed back strands of her blond hair with a hand.
"I think the others want to satisfy their curiosity," said McGee. "Don't tell them anything."
"Why?," asked Sear.
"Because they will start digging before we get permission to help you," said McGee.
"Right," said Sear.
McGee waved the others over. He noted that speculation had already gone around from the looks on their faces. He hoped they wouldn't be too put off by Sears's manners.
"This is Eleanor Bishop, Nick Torres, and Alex Quinn," said McGee. He gestured to each person as he named them. "This is Doctor Sear."
"Hello," said Sear.
"What brings you by, Doctor Sear?," asked Bishop. She went to the snack machine and put some money in. She got out a bag of chips.
"Dead body," said Sear.
McGee covered his face with a hand.
"Dead body?," asked Bishop. "What kind of dead body?"
"Ordinary dead body," said Sear. "What do you three do?"
"I run information gathering," said Bishop. "Quinn does interrogations for us, and Nick is our muscle."
"I also have undercover experience, thank you very much," said Torres.
"I'm surprised Baltimore would let you ask for help from an outside agency," said Quinn. She got a cup of coffee.
"The official line is I'm not here," said Sear. "The office knows that I have worked with Dr. Mallard and Abby to expedite things, so they're giving me some leeway."
"Expedite things?," said Quinn.
"I have occasionally asked Abby to run DNA and evidence tests for me so I can rule out certain things," said Sear. "I felt the need for speed was necessary in those cases."
"Really?," asked Quinn. "Does Gibbs know?"
"Yes," said Sear. "He's been prickly, but he's always been prickly."
"Really?," said Bishop. "I guess that's a fair assessment."
"I'm glad you think so, Bishop," said Gibbs, standing behind the group. Everyone jumped except Sear. The medical examiner ate his honey bun and sipped at his drink.
"Hello, Boss," said McGee. "What did Director Vance say?"
"We're going to extend all courtesy to Dr. Sear and the Baltimore Medical Examiner's Office," said Gibbs. "Bishop, find the Hawthorne. McGee, call out there with MTAC and see if anything strange has happened since they left port. Quinn, background checks on the crew. Torres, I want you to drive down to Baltimore and check around where the body was found."
"Check around where the body was found?," asked Torres.
"In case there's another one we haven't found yet," said Gibbs.
"Makes sense," said Torres.
The group broke up to carry out their assigned tasks. Gibbs crooked a finger for Sear to follow him. The agent led the way to a conference room with a big table and a shaded window looking out on the yard. He waved for Sear to have a seat while he took one on the other side of the table.
"What can you tell me about this?," asked Gibbs. He placed the file on the desk and pulled out his notebook. "What makes you think it's a dead sailor?"
"I don't know if it's a dead sailor," said Sear. Gibbs felt a twinge. There was the first lie. Whatever else was going on, Sear did know it was a dead sailor. He just couldn't prove it yet.
"So why contact us if you don't know who the victim is?," asked Gibbs.
"I hired an investigator to track down the possible source of the body," said Sear. "He located four ships that fit the bill. We searched the three civilian ships first and found nothing. The fourth, the Hawthorne, sailed before we could search it. I contacted the Navy and the people I talked to said they would take things under advisement."
Gibbs nodded. A dead body could be anyone. The Navy wasn't that concerned with a dead civilian, and some weren't that concerned with a dead swabbie either.
It made him glad he had been a marine.
Sear stood and went to the window. He pulled a shade out of the way and looked out. His face fell into shadow. A trace of fog hung in the air as he breathed. A chill flowed around him as he thought about what he was going to say next.
"The body was in the water for at least twenty four hours," said Sear. "Cause of death was drowning."
Drowning seemed natural given the body had washed up on the shore. No surprises there.
"Fresh water in the lungs," said Sear.
Gibbs frowned at the medical examiner. Fresh water meant the victim hadn't drowned in the ocean.
Where had he drowned? Dumping him in the ocean was probably to cover up how he had drowned.
Had he been killed on the Hawthorne? If he had, did anybody see anything?
"Any other wounds on the body?," asked Gibbs.
"There was some bruising on the limbs," said Sear. "It matches restraints."
Gibbs tapped his note book with his pen. He had a clear picture of what could have happened from what Sear had said. The file on the table had the reports and pictures from the autopsy. He planned to give it to Ducky for a second opinion, but he already thought that he would come to the same conclusion as Sear.
Someone had tied the victim down and drowned him. Then they had thrown him off his ship in the middle of a shipyard. They probably thought he would never surface.
"Do you have anything else to tie your victim to the Navy other than your investigator?," asked Gibbs.
"I have a tooth and a bone chip," said Sear. "The DNA should be viable for a screen."
"Where are they?," asked Gibbs.
"They're down at your desk in a cooler to keep them viable until Abby can test them," said Sear.
"Let's get that started," said Gibbs. "Abby can rule him out if the DNA doesn't match anyone in the service."
Gibbs stood, picking up his notebook and file. He put the notebook away in his breast pocket.
"Why didn't you send your investigator, Doc?," Gibbs asked as he led the way out of the conference room.
"I know your agency better and McNulty has a credibility issue," said Sear. The chill was gone as he moved from the window.
"Credibility issue?," said Gibbs. He led the way toward the steps so they could retrieve the samples.
"The word was that Jimmy created a fake serial killer to extort the city government to chase down a major drug trafficker," said Sear. "He got fired over it."
Gibbs allowed himself a small smile. There was a man after his own heart.
"The Hawthorne is within flying distance off the coast," said Bishop. She transferred the image from her laptop to the big monitor they used. "But it's off North Carolina and heading south."
"Keep an eye on it, Bishop," said Gibbs. "As soon as we know more, we'll get a plane and catch up to it."
"Right," said Bishop.
"Gibbs," said Quinn. Her desk was fronted on to another one in Tim McGee's old space. "The Hawthorne reported two of their sailors as U-A before they sailed."
Gibbs wondered which of the two had found their way into the ocean. And where was the other one?
"See what you can dig up on those two first, then go back to looking at the rest of the crew," said Gibbs. "We need to know as much about the crew as we can."
"Got it," said Quinn. She went back to work.
Sear picked up the cooler from the kneehole in Gibbs's desk. He checked the seal to make sure it was still unopened.
Gibbs and Sear walked to the elevator and headed downstairs. Gibbs pulled out his phone as he walked. He checked his list of contacts and pushed a button.
"Torres," he said as stepped in the elevator. "We might be looking for another body. Check with the Pee Dee to see if anyone else washed ashore."
He hung up and put the phone away.
"Another body?," asked Sear.
"Just covering the bases," said Gibbs.
The other missing sailor could be their suspected murderer. Or maybe his body had been tied down better.
2
Sear and Gibbs paused at the radio blasting full bore in the forensics lab. Abby Sciuto examined something under a microscope. She was tall, and taller in the boots she wore. A lab coat didn't hide the collar she wore and the multiple tattoos.
"Abby?," asked Gibbs. "What's going on?"
"I'm doing a little consulting work," said Abby with a grin. "Hey, Cole! It's been a while. You want me to do another super secret DNA test?"
"Yes," said Sear. "I think we found someone from the navy."
"You know he was a navy guy," said Abby. She cut the music. "You have that shifty look about you."
"Shifty?," said Sear. He looked down at his shoes. "I don't think I'm shifty."
"You're shifty," said Abby. "I know the type. It's okay. Everybody has secrets."
"If you say so," said Sear. He tried a smile. It didn't go well with the rest of his face.
"We have some DNA we need you to test and run against the database," said Gibbs. "Sear thinks his victim is a dead sailor."
"I can do that," said Abby. "What did you bring me, Cole?"
"A tooth and a bone chip from a femur," said Sear. He offered up the sealed chest. "There should be enough DNA for a match."
Abby took the carrier and pulled a knife. She slit the tape and pulled the top off the chest. She pulled out two bags with their samples.
"This is going to take me a while," said Abby. "I'll call you when I get a match."
"Thanks, Abbs," said Gibbs. "Let me know when this comes in. Dr. Sear and I are flying out to the Hawthorne as soon as we arrange for Ducky to look at the body."
"You two are flying out to the Hawthorne?," said Abby. She didn't hide the doubt on her face. "Alone?"
"We're just going to have a chat with the crew," said Gibbs. "I'll take Quin for a backup."
"That's better," said Abby with a smile. "You don't want to be alone at sea with a crew of murderers all around you."
"Come on, Dr. Sear," said Gibbs. "We have to talk to Ducky before we go."
"Sure," said Sear, putting his hands in his pockets.
Abby grabbed Sear's arm before he took one step. She leaned in close to whisper in his ear.
"Are you okay, Cole?," she asked. "You're looking sick."
"I have a lot of dead people I have to fix, Abby," said Sear. He tried to smile. "Not all of them want to go away like they should."
"That's way creepy," said Abby. "You might want to take it easy."
"When the murders in Baltimore stop," said Sear. He smiled. "I will be glad to take a vacation."
"Do it sooner than later," said Abby. She hugged him once more. Then she gestured for him to go.
Sear walked out of the lab. He joined Gibbs at the elevator. The senior agent didn't look happy.
Of course, he never looked happy.
"Anything you want to tell me?," said Gibbs.
"Not really," said Sear.
Gibbs nodded before he pressed the button to head to the morgue. He needed Ducky and Palmer to look over these reports. He valued their expertise, and Ducky wasn't as mysterious as Sear was.
When the elevator opened, he led the way through the sliding glass doors into Autopsy. Ducky and Palmer were hard at work on someone on the slab. He paused to listen to what they were talking about before asking about the corpse.
"This poor fellow appears to have died of natural causes," said Dr. Donald Mallard. He indicated the corpse with a scalpel. "We were about to open him up and see what the problem was."
"Appears?," asked Gibbs.
"The body was found near Roanoke with Marine dogtags," said Dr. James Palmer. He was the younger of the two and perpetually in a cheery mood. "No wounds, no signs of injury."
"The family asked us to make sure there was nothing wrong before they cremated him," said Dr. Mallard.
"I need you to look over this file," said Gibbs. He placed the file on the table. "Dr. Sear has already autopsied the victim. I need you to check his findings for anything he might have missed."
"The man is right here," said Dr. Mallard. He waved at his colleague.
Frost gathered on Sear's face as he examined the corpse. He opened one eyelid, then the other. He opened the mouth. He excelled a puff of white before he stepped back.
"He's seems to have died of an overdose," said Sear. He shrugged in his coat. "I think he had some form of cancer. You'll have to check it."
"We will, my boy," said Mallard. He put the scalpel down, and took off his gloves. He picked up the file. He scanned the contents thoroughly with a frown on his square face. "You found some sea life in the body?"
"I think they swam into the body after he was tossed overboard," said Sear. "He was nibbled on some before he popped up."
"I imagine," said Ducky. "Would it be all right if I took a look at the body myself."
"Be my guest," said Sear. "I'll make a call and have it shipped down here for you."
"Thank you," said Dr. Mallard. "Cancer?"
"He's showing signs," said Sear. "Best guess he put himself to sleep instead of waiting for the cancer to eat him up inside."
"We'll see if that is the case," said Ducky. "If it is, it will be some answers for the family."
"Tell them he didn't want to hurt them," said Sear. "He just thought it was the best solution to the problem."
"I understand," said Ducky. "All right, Mr. Palmer. Let's run a tox screen to see what is in our marine's blood, then we'll take some x-rays before we perform the first cut."
"I'll draw some blood," said Palmer, looking around for a clean syringe.
"Come on," said Gibbs. He headed for the elevator. "We have to head out to the Hawthorne and check it."
Sear followed, head down, hands in the pockets of his great coat. He stepped into the elevator before the doors closed.
Gibbs watched the numbers on the elevator move. He didn't say anything about the diagnosis of the recently departed.
Sear watched the floor. He didn't say anything either.
The elevator opened on the bullpen. Gibbs looked at his juniors. They all seemed busy with their tasks.
He was already dividing up work for them in his mind. Quin and McGee would fly out with him to the ship. They would have to go over everything. Interviews would be a pain if the dead body matched one of the U-A sailors reported by Quin.
Bishop would have to back up Torres in Baltimore. She could drive down and meet him at the recovery spot.
The Captain of the ship would not be happy they were coming.
Nobody wanted to see the police in their backyard.
McGee came down the stairs with his notebook in hand. He frowned at the facts he did have.
It was time to get his team together and point them.
"What do you have, McGee?," said Gibbs.
"Captain Leonard Drake says except for the two sailors we know about, everyone is accounted for on the crew," said McGee. "He has no reports of anything strange happening while the ship was in Baltimore. Our missing sailors checked out for leave and never came back."
Or someone forged the book.
"The Hawthorne is still heading south," said Bishop. "It doesn't really have a place for a plane to land. A helicopter pad is on the rear of the ship if we can get one with the range to reach from shore."
Gibbs looked at Quinn. She tapped her teeth with her pen as she looked at what she had found.
"Quinn?," said Gibbs.
"Our two missing sailors are petty officer third class Micheal Goines, and petty officer second class Luisa Kotter," said Quin. She pressed some keys to send the pictures from their files to the big screen in the middle of the room.
"Nothing exceptional in their files, nothing to point to why they would leave the Hawthorne without an explanation," said Quin. "They have the same amount of time in, and are at the end of their enlistments. Kotter has already sent in her re-enlistment paperwork."
"Goines is the dee bee," said Sears.
"Do either one of them have a residence in Baltimore?," asked Gibbs. That was something that needed to be ruled out.
"Goines does," said Quin. "I have an address from his file."
Gibbs considered his next move. He had a positive identification from Sear. He had two missing sailors. He had a mobile crime scene.
He had to put his kids to work.
"Quin and McGee, you're with me and Dr. Sear," said Gibbs. "Bishop, take these files and dig into the crew, but I want you to head up to Baltimore after Torres and check this address out. The murderers might have sailed with the Hawthorne, or they might have split up and some of them stayed in Baltimore while the rest sailed away."
"I need to arrange for transport of the body down here," said Sear. "If we find the other missing sailor, I assume you'll want her body brought down here too."
"You assume exactly right," said Gibbs.
"I'll let the office know," said Sear. He pulled out his phone. He turned away from the group to make his phone call.
"We're riding along with Dr. Thirteen?," whispered Quin.
"Yes," said Gibbs. He smiled slightly. "He knows everything there is about how people die."
"Really?," said Quin.
"Don't let that not all here face he puts on fool you," said Gibbs. "He knows things about this case that we don't know."
"Really?," said Quinn.
"He didn't come to us on a hunch," said Gibbs. "He came to us because he already had a clue where to go."
Sear ended the call and turned around to see the agents looking at him. He put his phone away and hunched down in his coat.
"I guess we can go now," said Sear.
3
It was a forty five minute ride from the Naval Yard to Baltimore. Bishop caught up with Torres as he pulled into a parking lot facing the harbor. Ships were loading and unloading cargo in the distance. Other ships moved in and out of the harbor. People and vehicles were everywhere.
Bishop pulled into the slot next to his car. She got out and looked at the harbor. She pulled her coat close.
Torres got out of his car and looked at the same scene. He rubbed his hands together. He shook his head at the cooler temperatures.
"Where should we get started?," he asked.
"I have no idea," said Bishop.
"Do you have the police report?," asked Torres.
Bishop pulled her laptop from its case and opened it up on the trunk of her car. She powered it up and waited. When the screen cycled to readiness, she opened a file with the police report in it and nodded.
"It looks like the body floated in for a landing down the dock area," said Bishop. "The Hawthorne was a few miles down that way."
"Do we trust the Doc's investigator?," asked Torres.
"I don't know," said Bishop. "We can call him and ask him to come out here to show us how he made the calculations that implicated the four suspect ships."
"That would be great," said Torres. "We can get some diving equipment and look around to see if the other sailor is down there."
"Do you really think she's there?," asked Bishop.
"We have to try to rule it out," said Torres. "She might be alive and living up la vida loca. If she is, we can find her and bring her in. If she isn't, I would like to pull her up before she's reduced to nothing and takes any evidence she might have with her."
"I'll call Sear's investigator," said Bishop. She went through the files but didn't see a name listed in the files. "There's no investigator listed."
"What's the number of the Medical Examiner's office?," asked Torres. He pulled out his phone.
Bishop checked her files. She gave him the number. He nodded as he started dialing.
"How's it going?," said Torres. "I was wondering if Dr. Sear was there. He isn't? Is his investigator? No? Do you know how to get a hold of either one? McNulty? Let me have his number. I'll call him."
Torres cut the connection and dialed the number he had been given. He waited for the other end to pick up while watching a bird circling in the sky.
"Is this McNulty?," said Torres. "This is Agent Nick Torres of NCIS. I was wondering if you could come down to the harbor for me. We're looking into the dead body found out here in the water. Thanks."
He cut the line.
"That was fast," said Bishop.
"McNulty isn't an investigator for the M.E.," said Torres. "He is an investigator for Sear."
"Is there a difference?," asked Bishop.
"Yeah," said Torres. "Sear uses McNulty to find relatives of the deceased so he can hand over their personal belongings and arrange for burial. Sometimes he sends McNulty out to find a body that no one is looking for."
"How would he know that?," said Bishop.
Torres shrugged.
"You're saying Dr. Sear knows where bodies are that no one else knows about," said Bishop.
Torres shrugged again.
"Do you know how creepy that is?," asked Bishop.
Torres smiled.
"Because that's really creepy," said Bishop.
"McNulty said he would be here in a few minutes," said Torres. "Once he's here, we can figure out where we need to dive and look for the other missing sailor."
"So you think Kotter is out there?," asked Bishop.
"You heard Gibbs," said Torres. "We have to make sure."
Bishop envisioned what would happen if they did find the body. They would have to drag it to the surface and pack it for transport back to Ducky at Autopsy. Then they would have to tell Gibbs the bad news.
She decided that she would Rock, Paper, Scissors for not breaking the bad news to the senior agent.
A beat up Dodge rolled to a stop in the parking lot. A man got out of the car. He had all the signs of a drinker, a ready smile, and a keen eye.
"Agent Torres?," McNulty said. "I'm McNulty."
"This is Agent Bishop," said Torres. He waved at his partner. "We were wondering if you can point out where you think the body was dropped in the harbor."
"Sure," said McNulty. "It's going to take some walking from here."
Bishop stowed her laptop back in its bag as McNulty led the way along the water. He had his hands in his pockets as he walked.
"How did you know the body was thrown from the Hawthorne?," asked Bishop.
"I didn't," said McNulty. "The body bobbed up and was discovered by a fisherman. He turned it in to the Harbor Patrol, who passed the investigation to Bee Pee Dee. The Medical Examiner's office got the body. Sear was put in charge of the autopsy."
"And then you knew the body was dropped from the Hawthorne?," said Torres.
"No," said McNulty. "Sear called me and asked me where a body would have floated from in the harbor to land where it did. There are a few places, but looking at the charts and the directions of the current, the rough calculations pointed to a pier down here."
"And the boats tied to the pier were where you felt the dead body had been dropped," said Bishop, guessing at the next part of the story.
"Yep," said McNulty. "We got warrants and searched three of the boats. They were spic and span. The fourth boat had already sailed by the time we had finished searching the other boats."
"What if the Hawthorne had nothing to do with it?," asked Torres.
"Not my department," said McNulty. "We were searching for sources of water on the boats. They sent the samples down to the lab and none of them matched. The doc wanted to rule the Hawthorne out, but with it already leaving, there wasn't much he could do."
"Why sources of water on the boats?," asked Bishop.
"The dead guy was drowned in fresh water, then thrown in the ocean," said McNulty. "The Doc was trying to confirm if the water on the boats matched the water samples from the guy's lungs."
"All right," said Torres. "And he didn't. So when they get on the Hawthorne, they're going to want to take samples from the water supply."
"It won't matter," said Bishop.
"What do you mean?," asked McNulty.
"Our boss, Gibbs, went out there with your doctor," said Bishop. "He's bound to flush someone out when he starts asking questions. I expect him to start calling us for crew profiles and background stuff as soon as he starts questioning people. Someone will confess and the job will be done."
"Until then, what are you two supposed to be doing?," asked McNulty.
"We have to make sure only one sailor went overboard," said Torres.
"You're going diving?," asked McNulty.
"I am," said Torres. "Bishop will work whatever electronics we need from the surface."
"I know a guy who rents diving equipment," said McNulty. "Do you want me to call him for you?"
"That would be great," said Torres. "Where was the Hawthorne docked?"
"Three more slips down," said McNulty. "Is that where you are going to search for your second body?"
"Gibbs wants us to make sure," said Torres.
"We still have the apartment to check out afterward," said Bishop.
"We'll get to it," said Torres. "It's not going anywhere."
"Let me make a phone call," said McNulty. "We'll take care of both things."
"Really?," said Bishop.
"Really real," said McNulty. He dialed a number and waited for an answer. "How's it going, Bunk?"
Bunk, mouthed Bishop. Torres smiled back.
"I need a couple of detectives to help me out," said McNulty. "I have a federal agent that needs to conduct a search with local cooperation, and I have another federal agent that is going to conduct a dive as soon as I can get his equipment for him. I figured I would call the Harbor Patrol and see I could borrow a couple of their Search and Rescue guys to help out."
McNulty smiled. He nodded even though the other man couldn't hear him.
"Don't worry," said McNulty. "I'm not getting in the water. The fed is doing that."
He laughed quietly.
"No, he doesn't," said McNulty. "Let me give you the address. The guy is dead, so there shouldn't be any hassles with a warrant."
He gestured for the agents to give him the address to relay to his ex-colleague. Bishop rattled off the address. He repeated it into the phone.
"Tell the better half I still love her," said McNulty. "I'll see you around, Bunk."
He hung up.
"Bunk will be waiting for you," said McNulty. "He'll watch your back while you're collecting your evidence."
"Thanks," said Bishop. She headed for her car.
McNulty paged through the contacts on his phone. He found a guy who might still help despite what he had done.
He needed scuba gear and a boat at the least. Sergeant Kaler would have the leave to give him both.
"Hey, Frankie, how's it going?," said McNulty. He chatted for a few minutes before getting into the reason he called. "Frank, I have a federal agent here, and I need a boat, diving equipment, and a body bag."
McNulty laughed.
"No, we're not dropping anyone," he said. "We're checking to make sure no one was dropped in the harbor."
Torres crossed his arms. The implication that McNulty had buried some of his arrests didn't sound good to him.
"Thanks, Frank," said McNulty. He gave the number of the dock. "We'll be waiting."
He put his phone in his pocket. He looked out at the harbor.
"Think we'll find anything?," asked Torres.
"I don't know," said McNulty. "Hunches could mean anything, and go anywhere."
"How long were you on the job?," asked Torres.
"A few years," said McNulty.
"Why did you quit?," asked Torres.
"I was fired for conduct unbecoming an officer and the misuse of funds," said McNulty. "I wasn't given a choice."
"Misuse of funds?," asked Torres.
"I took the money budgeted for my squad to catch a serial killer that I had made up and used that to take down a major drug kingpin," said McNulty. "The powers that be were not happy with this. They were even less happy when they found out there was no serial killer."
"Wait," said Torres. He held up one hand. "You made up a serial killer, and spent the money on something else."
"They wouldn't give me the budget to do my job, so I had to create a public relations nightmare for them so I could get the money I needed," said McNulty.
"So you extorted your boss," said Torres. "That takes some brass ones."
"It got me fired," said McNulty. "Think about that before you think about doing the same thing."
"My boss would shoot me if I tried anything like that," said Torres. "Forget a firing unless it was being fired out of a cannon."
"Prone to fits of anger?," asked McNulty.
"Exactly," said Torres. "I would rather take my chances with sharks."
McNulty smiled. He looked out at the harbor.
"There's a body down there," said McNulty. "It might not be the one you're looking for, but there's one down there."
"What makes you say that?," asked Torres. He looked at the dark water churning along.
"Just a feeling," said McNulty.
4
Gibbs studied the Hawthorne as the transport heli circled around for a landing on the pad in the stern. The flight officer waved the copter in with beacon lights. The pilot swooped down over the pad and then cut power to gently land the transport on its landing gears.
"We need to take water samples," said Sear. He pulled off his helmet as he waited for the rotor blades to wind down.
"How sure are you that this is the crime scene?," asked Quinn. She took off her helmet and ran her hand through her hair.
"I'm not," said Sear. "He could have been killed away from the coast in the city and then dumped."
"So we could be on a wild goose chase?," asked Quinn.
"Yes," said Sear.
"No," said Gibbs. "Let's get started."
He pulled off his borrowed helmet and slid the door out of the way. He picked up his go bag. He hopped down to the pad, looking for the officer on deck.
"It's not a coincidence," said McGee. "A dead sailor, dropped in the water where the ship was docked, reported U-A, drowned with fresh water in his lungs. It all points to Goines being killed on board and then thrown overboard."
"And it also points to his killer being onboard," said Quinn.
"We'll find him," said McGee.
"Them," said Sear. He slid out of the passenger compartment and pulled his own evidence bag out of its spot.
"What does he know that we don't," said Quinn.
"I don't know," said McGee. "Watch your back. We're out in the middle of the Atlantic with no backup."
"Thanks for that cheery thought," said Quinn.
"It'll be fine," said McGee. "As long as there are no rats."
Quinn shouldered her own bag with a smile. She followed McGee, and Sear, as they walked to catch up with Gibbs. A guy in tan was talking to the senior agent, but the boss was not moved.
He probably wanted them to leave before they could get into the guts of things.
"Let's start with the bunk rooms," said Sear. "Then we can throw the net out wider."
"All right," said McGee. "Why the bunk rooms?"
"The most likely scene of the murder," said Sear. "The showers and bathrooms should be next."
The two of them walked around the confrontation going on between the officer and Gibbs. Neither man looked happy, and that would roll down on anyone close by.
And Sear didn't seem to care about getting involved when he had a task at hand, and McGee didn't want to get involved since he was going to have to carry out orders either way.
Quinn could run interference with the crew. She had a small knack with people. Maybe she could find someone to admit they had drowned the two missing sailors without regrets.
That would make solving the case that much easier if she could.
Sear led the way through the ship. He stopped occasionally to take a bearing, but he didn't pause as he aimed for the crew quarters part of the ship. Frost danced in the air around him. Some of the sailors he brushed against as he walked shivered in the cold air of his passage.
McGee smiled at the sailors. He had seen this when he had first met Sear. The man was a walking air conditioner sometimes. It was no wonder he wore a coat wherever he went if the cold air followed him around.
McGee didn't have an explanation for the phenomena and just put it down as another weird thing the medical examiner had about him.
Sear paused at the entrance to the bunk room he wanted. He looked around quietly.
He walked into the room with McGee and Quinn at his back. He looked around as he made his way through the room. He paused to read the label on the front of the bunks before he looked around again.
His face said things didn't feel right. He looked around again.
"They switched something around," said Sear. "This doesn't feel right."
"What do you mean?," asked Quinn. The bunks were bolted to the floor. It would be a major job to switch the layout around for no reason.
"Maybe they switched the labels," said McGee. He touched the nearest one and pushed it out of a holder on the front of the bunk bed frame.
"Why would they do that?," asked Quinn.
"Don't know," said McGee. "Maybe someone switched bunks and switched labels so they didn't have to deal with the paperwork."
"We'll have to search all these bunks instead of the one for Goines," said Sear. "That's the only way we'll know which one is his, and if he hid anything before he was murdered."
"Why would he hide something?," asked Quin.
"Why was he murdered?," said Sear.
Quin shrugged. That was a fair question in her opinion.
There were only so many reasons to kill someone. The victim knowing something, or having proof of something, would be a good motive. And hiding that knowledge would be important if he thought he was going to be killed.
And it also limited their suspects to members of the crew, which cut down on a lot of work.
Quin liked it as an explanation. Would Gibbs?
"How do we handle this?," asked Sear.
"We get a list of where everyone should be sleeping," said McGee. "Most of Goines crew should be bunking in here. Once we figure out which ones switched around, we can ask why."
"The Executive Officer should have that," said Quin. "I'll go down and see if I can get it from him without too much of a problem."
"All right," said McGee. "We'll start here by taking pictures of all the bunks so we know how they are marked right now, and can compare it to how they are marked in the paperwork."
"Sounds like a plan," said Quin. "I'll be back as soon as I can. The Exec might not want to give us the paperwork."
"It's a murder," said McGee. "They're going to have to give us something we can use to solve it."
Quin left the barracks and headed down the hall toward the admin part of the ship.
Sear walked around the room. He slumped in his coat as he looked at the bunks one by one. He didn't touch any of them.
"What do you think is behind this?," asked McGee. He pulled his camera out of his go bag.
"I don't know," said Sear. "I don't usually sit on this part of an investigation. That's why I hired McNulty."
"Your investigator?," said McGee.
"Natural police, but nowhere to work," said Sear. "No one would hire him after what he did, but I took a chance and things have been going all right."
McGee shrugged. He wondered how bad the man could have done if they had hired Tony after his string of moving from job to job before he landed in NCIS.
McGee worked his way down the aisles, snapping pictures. He concentrated on the numbers of the bunks and the placement. When Quin returned with the list of assigned sailors, they could match the sailors with the bunks.
The lockers were the real problem. If they didn't know which one was Goines, they didn't know which one to search. And they didn't know whose property they were rifling through.
Searching them all and matching them to their owners was a good way of doing things, but that would be up to Gibbs to fix with the captain and his staff.
And they didn't have any reason to search anyone's lockers but Goines at the moment. When they had a reason, then they could pull everything out and go through it for what they needed to crack the case.
Why had they changed the room around? That didn't make any sense on the surface.
It was like one of the old pranks you hear about where they took the Dean's car apart and rebuilt it in his office.
McGee didn't think a practical joke was going on here.
He thought someone was trying to hide whatever had happened to Goines. And the thought that Kotter had been collateral damage crossed his mind.
She might have known what Goines knew, or seen what had happened to him. That made killing her the natural next step since they had already killed once. It also focused suspicion on her if Goines's body showed up and hers didn't.
McGee felt her body would show up before things were through. Maybe he had been hanging around Gibbs too long, but he was feeling twinges in his gut that told him that of all things that could happen, finding another dead body was the most likeliest.
That was on Bishop and Torres. He doubted Kotter would fall out of a closet on the Hawthorne.
He didn't discount it after a second of thought. He had found a dead man mummified under his floorboards. This could be more of the same hide and seek thing.
And McGee didn't like hide and seek as much as he used to before he started the job and dealt with the criminals that he had over the years.
Sear stood hunched in his coat. He looked lost at the moment. The expression wasn't that much different than usual.
The numbers had thrown Sear. Before he had noticed they were wrong, he had been on point. Maybe Quin could get them back in the game.
Quin arrived as McGee was wrapping up his pictures of the scene. She had a location chart and numbered names in hand. She waved the papers at them.
"All right," she compared the numbers. "These two bunks are the ones that had their numbers switched. The rest look normal to me."
"Which one was Goines?," asked McGee. That was the one they needed to search first.
"That one," said Quin. She pointed at a bunk in the corner.
"All right," said McGee. "Luckily, we've already taken pictures of the bed with the false number on it. Let's do our search and see what we can find out."
He started by pulling the mattress out of place. He dropped it on the floor, and looked through the metal frame for something to point him in the right direction.
Quin pulled the blankets back from the mattress. She shook them out and folded them, before putting them to one side. It was debatable that DNA on the blanket and sheets would be conclusive.
McGee stepped inside the empty frame and played his flashlight around. He bent down and saw something glittering under the frame. He reached for and pulled it off the frame. He looked at the thumb drive with the tape hanging from it.
"We found something we can check," he said. He pulled a small bag from his kit and sealed the drive in it. "Let's see what else we can find."
5
Bishop pulled her car to the curb. An unmarked police car already sat two slots down. She got out of the car, blinking at her surroundings.
"Agent Bishop?," asked a black man in a nice suit. He wore his badge on his jacket. "I'm Detective Moreland."
"Thank you for coming," said Bishop. "I don't think there is going to be any problem. We are just checking to see if our victim left anything in his place."
"Jimmy said this was about the harbor," said Moreland.
"Dr. Cole Sear asked NCIS to investigate a drowning," said Bishop. She pulled out her bag. "We don't have anything to go on right now so we thought that maybe something would be here in his place."
"Sounds reasonable," said Moreland. "Sear knows his stuff. If he thinks it was a murder, it was a murder."
"He's that good?," said Bishop.
"He once found a body in a pile of ash," said Moreland.
"That doesn't seem that hard," said Bishop.
"The only things left were pieces of the skeleton," said Moreland.
"That's kind of gross," said Bishop.
"It is, but we closed the case based on a finger bone," said Moreland.
"A finger bone?," said Bishop.
"Yep," said Moreland.
The two detectives walked across the full parking lot to a building with four apartments. Three other buildings formed a U. One apartment had a manager sign next to the door across the way.
"We can talk with the manager for the keys," said Moreland.
"All right," said Bishop. That means I don't have to pick the lock.
Moreland knocked on the door with a big fist. He waited for the resident to open up for him. He smiled at the thin white man with no hair, and wrinkles dragging his face down like a hound dog's.
"Detective Moreland," said Moreland. "We need to get into Three Cee in that building over there."
"What's going on?," said the manager.
"We think your tenant is dead," said the detective. "We need to get in and look around."
"All right," said the manager. "What happened?"
"It looks like he drowned," said Moreland. "We're going to need to keep the apartment like it is until we have things sorted out."
"That's funny," said the manager. "But it kind of makes sense since he was a sailor."
He led the way across the lot to the building in question. The manager sorted his keys on his ring as he walked up the stairs on the front of the building. He opened up Three Cee for them and stepped out of the way.
"Wait outside for us," said Moreland.
He led the way inside. He paused just inside the door. He shook his head.
"Did your victim have any friends?," asked Moreland.
"One of the other sailors on his ship was also U-A," said Bishop. She peered over the detective's shoulder. "It looks like we found her."
"Looks like," said Moreland. "How do you want to handle this?"
"NCIS is going to take this," said Bishop. "I'll have to call our medical examiner and get the body back to the Naval Yard. At least Torres won't have to dive now."
"We should let him dive anyway," said Moreland. "There might be something in the harbor."
"All right," said Bishop. "Let me call him. He needs to know we have our other sailor so he can look for anything else that might be important."
She pulled out her phone and called Torres. She gave him the information about Kotter. He made a noise on his end.
She put her phone away. She pulled out her camera from her bag. She started taking pictures.
"It looks like a bat," said Moreland. He indicated the bruising he could see. "Broken hands."
Bishop dropped her camera down enough to take a look for herself. She frowned at the curled fingers.
She took pictures of the wounded appendages. Did the bad guys get what they wanted? What did they want? Why did they think Kotter had it?
Moreland wandered to other areas of the apartment. She heard some casual cursing going on as he searched the place.
"Find anything?," Bishop called.
"There's some blood in the sink where they washed their hands," said Moreland from the other room.
"I'll get a sample as soon as I am done with the photos," said Bishop. "Maybe one of her attackers was hurt somehow."
"That's a long shot," said Moreland. "But if you can get DNA other than the victim's, more power to you."
"Gibbs is going to want to know why I didn't at least try," said Bishop. She started taking pictures of the back of the chair.
"Having met the man, I can see that," said Bunk. "I'm going to talk to the manager. Maybe he saw something. Maybe some of the other tenants heard what was going on."
"But none of them called the police?," asked Bishop.
"Why would they?," asked the detective before stepping outside and making sure the door was closed.
Bishop paused in her picture taking. She let the camera drop to the end of its strap as she looked the scene over again. Someone must have heard something when this went down. Why hadn't they called it in?
Why had they ignored a woman getting her hands broken?
Bishop pulled out her phone. She needed to get Ducky and Palmer on the way to claim the body. They would know how much damage was done after the post mortem. She gave them the news and asked for them to drive over. She went back to taking pictures after finishing the call.
Excessive torture wasn't new to Bishop. She had seen it on other cases with NCIS. She looked around to make sure she hadn't missed anything. She was going to lock these guys down.
If she could shoot them in self-defense, so much the better.
Bishop went to the bathroom. She took pictures of the blood spatter she saw. She got a vial and a swab from her bag. She opened them, swabbed the sink, then sealed the vial down. She labeled the vial and put it back in her bag.
Abby should be able to tell her something about the sample.
She supposed that after the man, or men, had done what they could to make Kotter talk, they had washed up in the bathroom. Either they didn't know Goines was dead, and wanted to implicate him, or they did know, and knew no one would find the body until it had started decomposing.
Goines would have made the perfect fall guy if he hadn't bobbed up in the harbor.
Dead body is his shipmate. It's in his apartment. He's nowhere to be found. Investigators would have wasted time looking for him to ask questions.
Instead his body shows up first and leads to the other one being found earlier than planned.
She didn't like the implication that the murderers were on the boat with her friends, and Sear. If they had killed two people for withholding something, what would they do to Gibbs and the others?
"The manager said that the place was being fumigated," said Moreland. He stepped inside and closed the door. "Each building was emptied out and sprayed down. Then the tenants were allowed to move back in after the apartments were clear."
"So whomever did this had a cleared building after the fumigation," said Bishop. "That will help narrow down time of death."
"The dead sailor's car is here in the lot," said Moreland. "Do you want to open it?"
"They left his car?," said Bishop. "Why didn't they dump it?"
"The manager said that whenever Goines left on maneuvers, he left the car in the lot," said Moreland. "So if his killers knew that, leaving the car meant that he had come home before going back to his boat, or he was writing the car off so he could get away."
"It might be a mistake," said Bishop. "Goines and Kotter are U-A. Having the car here with his usual habits meant that he should have been on the boat leaving the harbor instead of missing."
"I can see that," said Moreland. "How do you want to handle this, Bishop?"
"Dr. Mallard and Dr. Palmer are coming to pick up the body," said Bishop. "We can canvas the apartments, but I don't think anyone here saw what was going on."
"Hopefully the rest of your team is having better luck than this," said Moreland.
"Finding Kotter here means that she was killed with Goines, which rules her out for drowning and dumping him in the harbor," said Bishop. "Depending on time of death, he could have killed her and then been killed on the Hawthorne. Without a motive, we don't have anything we can show that he did do this to her, and went to his post."
"We don't have a lot of anything," said Moreland. "I'll call some uniforms and have them do the canvas. You hand the body over to your M. E. I'll hand the notes from the unis over when they get done."
"Thanks," said Bishop. "I'll let you know what the autopsy says. It might take a few days."
"It's your case," said Moreland. "I have plenty of dead bodies of my own."
"All right," said Bishop. "I hope Torres finds something on his dive. We're at a dead end here."
"Tell me about it," said Moreland. He pulled out his phone and asked for a squad of patrolmen to be sent to the address. He didn't hold out hope for anything to show in the canvassing, but it was better than doing nothing.
And sometimes you did get something that pointed you right at the bad guy.
When the patrolmen arrived, Moreland directed them to start with the apartments and work their way down to the street. He sent them on their way.
Ducky and Palmer arrived shortly after that. They got out of the van in their blue coveralls. Ducky pulled on gloves to handle the body. Jimmy went around to the back of the van to get the gurney.
"Can you give me a time of death, Ducky?," asked Bishop.
"I can get you an approximation depending on liver temperature," said Mallard. "It might to be revised depending on what we find back home."
"I just want to see how close we can get it to Goines's time of death," said Bishop.
"All right," said Ducky. He eyed the body quietly. "We'll need to get the cutter to get her out of those ropes. I'll be right back."
Palmer rolled the gurney into the room. He paused when he saw the body was tied to a chair. He frowned at the broken hands.
"Someone went to town on her," he said. He squinted behind his glasses. "I am going to say a blunt object."
"Detective Moreland thinks it was a baseball bat," said Bishop.
"I wouldn't be surprised," said Palmer. "I'll take some x-rays to make sure. This looks bad."
"All right, Mr. Palmer. I have the cutter," said Ducky. "Let's cut her loose so we can get her back home. We'll need to preserve the knots for evidence."
"No problem, Doctor," said Palmer. He took the bolt cutter and cut through the ropes with a little effort. He put the cutter down and lifted the body on the gurney.
"She's come out of rigor," said Ducky. He pulled her pants cuff up to look at one of her ankles. "Lividity indicates she died in her chair."
He opened his kit up and pulled out a thermometer with a long spike attached to it. He prodded Kotter's back to find the liver. He drove the spike in and waited for the temperature to settle on the display.
"Best guess at the moment is she died thirty six to forty eight hours ago," said Ducky. "I'll know more after the autopsy."
"So she died first," said Bishop. "Then Goines. Why use his apartment for the rest of this?"
"What did they want, and did they get it, seems more pertinent," said Ducky.
6
Torres checked the air in the borrowed tanks he had been given. He wished he could send someone else down to look around. Searching around under the water was not something he was looking forward to doing. He pulled the tanks on and buckled them down. He pulled on his mask to help protect his eyes.
"Take things slow and easy," said McNulty. "You don't have to rush. You have two hours worth of air in the tank. As soon as the hour and three quarter mark hits, just surface."
"This is your guideline," said Sergeant Frank Kaler. He was two of Torres and not in a bodybuilder way. He handed Torres a rope with an anchor tied to one end. "We'll tie it off a buoy so you can dive and surface without hitting the boat. As soon as you feel your air running out, just climb back up the string to the buoy. We'll pick you up."
"Anything else I need to know?," asked Torres.
"Not really," said Kaler. "The water is usually too cold for sharks, but there are things in the water that you should leave alone. Anything swimming by should be left to swim by. If you find anything, tie the guideline around it, and we'll pull it up."
"Also if there is a shark in the water, and he takes a bite," said McNulty. "Go for his eye with your knife. Stab him as hard you can so he'll back off."
"Thanks, I really needed that picture in my head," said Torres. He shook his head at McNulty. The other man just smiled.
"Ready?," asked Kaler. He threw the guideline's anchor overboard. "Let's go. I'm missing Alex Trebek."
Torres adjusted his mask one last time. He picked up his light. He waddled to the side of the boat and dropped overboard. He sank out of sight.
Torres cut on his light as he drifted to the bottom of the bay. He played it over the bottom. He decided to swim away from the slip. The current would drag similar objects toward where Goines had touched down.
He found the first bag after a few minutes. He turned the flashlight to look around the scene. More bags lay on the bottom of the harbor. He paused to count the bags before he paddled over to take a look at the first one.
The bag looked like a rubber body bag. It was zipped shut. He noticed that a lock and chain had been added to keep the zipper closed. He frowned at that. Anything locked down like that and dumped in the water made him curious about what was inside.
He decided not to open the bag in the water. It could be evidence of a crime. The salt water could erase anything of value before he got the contents to the surface. He needed to swim up and talk to McNulty and Kaler about this.
It looked like they were going to need more divers, and more hands on deck. Nobody was going to be happy with what he had to say.
Torres found the guideline heading up. He put his hand on it, and followed the nylon to the surface. He pushed his mask up when he broke out of the dark water.
"What did you find, Torres?," asked McNulty. He stood at the rail of the boat. Kaler stood beside him with a cup of coffee in hand.
"It looks like a burial ground," said Torres. "I saw at least a dozen body bags down there. I don't know what's in them, but it looks kind of obvious what was going on here."
"That's something we don't need," said Kaler.
"You guys are going to have to make some calls and figure out how you want to handle this," said McNulty. "If there are a ton of bodies down there, we might be looking at some kind of gang war."
"I'm going to have to get some Navy guys down here to drag the bottom unless you guys want to do it," said Torres. "We might have to close off the harbor while we work."
"We need to make sure if we have a body dump, or contraband," said Kaler. "Go ahead and call for your divers. We'll call some more boats down here to redirect the traffic. The brass is going to hit the roof over this."
"I'm not in a hurry to call Director Vance to let him know how things have mushroomed," said Torres. "This was supposed to be a simple murder, maybe double murder. Now we don't know what we got."
McNulty laughed.
"What's so funny, Jimmy?," said Kaler.
"None of this is my problem," said McNulty. "I can walk away and let you two guys handle things while I sip some fruit punch and have a burger."
"I don't think so," said Kaler. "You're a material witness. You don't go home until I go home."
"You're kidding me," said McNulty.
"Nope," said Kaler. "You're stuck here until we pull the last bag out of the water."
"All right," said McNulty. "So we call the patrol to come down and mark this area off limits?"
"I need to make my calls to Gibbs and Vance," said Torres. "Let me climb aboard so I can take these tanks off."
"Gibbs won't be glad to know the stakes have been raised," said McNulty.
"Tell me about it," said Torres. "Something like this could mean the whole crew is in on whatever is going on."
"We might need to get help from the Coast Guard," said Kaler. He helped Torres over the gunwale. "I knew this was going to be a bad day."
"You might get promoted out of this," said McNulty.
"No chance," said Kaler. "I might get a commendation if there's something other than bodies down there. Otherwise, all I'm going to get is grief. And I will take that grief out on you, Jimmy. I promise you that."
Torres placed the air tanks down on the deck. He sat down and opened his diving suit. Twenty dead bodies meant an ongoing operation. How much danger was Gibbs, and the others, in? He needed to call the Hawthorne, then Vance. This was bigger and messier than they had thought.
He went to the locker where he had put his personal belongings and got out the bag containing his credentials, gun, and phone. He pulled out the phone, hesitating on who to call first. He looked up Gibbs and called him.
He was the team leader. He had to know what was found.
It just wouldn't make him happy.
Torres thought about that. Not much seemed to make Gibbs happy.
"Yeah, go Torres," said Gibbs from his phone.
"We might have a burial ground here," said Torres. "I'm going to call for Navy divers and ask for Baltimore patrol to set up so we can figure out what's down there. And Bishop found the other sailor at Goines's place, so we can rule her out for his drowning."
"Let me know what you find, Torres," said Gibbs. "If you have to get help from the Pee Dee, do it. Loop Vance in. He'll want to know before the media gets ahold of things."
"Right," said Torres. "I'll get the wheels turning."
The connection went dead.
Torres shook his head. He went through his phone until he found Vance's number. He hated calling the director. He didn't want the attention.
"Vance," said the director. He sounded sharp.
"This is Torres," said Nick. He looked out of over the dark water. "I need an okay for Navy divers to retrieve some body bags from the bottom of Baltimore Harbor."
"How many body bags, Torres?," asked Vance.
"I'm going to say at least twelve, maybe more," said Torres. "We might need some help for Ducky and Palmer, and the Pee Dee is going to try to shut down the harbor for us."
"I'll call one of the stations close to Baltimore and get you some divers," said Vance. "I thought you were working on a possible murder, Torres."
"It ballooned up into something else," said Torres. "We don't know what's down there, but if it is a burial ground, we might be looking at a serial, or some kind of organization that was off the radar until now."
"Find out and call me back, Mr. Torres," said Vance. "I want to know what's going on as soon as you do."
"Yes, sir," said Torres. Dead air answered him.
"Not happy?," asked McNulty.
"No, but he's getting us more hands," said Torres. "It looks like your hunch was right."
"It's worse than I thought," said McNulty. "Let's see where this leads us."
"Divers will be on the way to help us," said Torres. "It looks like we're waiting until we can pull those bags off the bottom."
"Frankie is calling his boss," said McNulty. "He should be getting approval to block this part of the harbor. His boss is going to want some kind of media credit for whatever we find."
"It's not my call, but I think Gibbs doesn't care about that, and I am not sure Vance does either," said Torres.
"That'll make things easier," said McNulty. "The Bureau would just take the credit for any bust and give the Pee Dee a sentence in the press release."
"Gibbs will probably give you all the credit if we can bust this open," said Torres.
"Not me," said McNulty. He indicated Kaler with a thumb. "It will be to the hardworking men and women of the Baltimore Police Department's Harbor Patrol."
"And don't you forget it," said Kaler. He shook his head. "The brass is doing cartwheels at the overtime they'll have to pay for this, but we're getting three more patrol boats to close this part of the water off and direct shipping around where we're working."
"Vance is sending for divers," said Torres. "I better call Ducky so he can get ready to receive these bodies once we pull them up."
"Ducky?," said Kaler.
"He's our coroner," said Torres. "He'll probably go through all the bodies himself, or get someone from the Navy's medical branch to help out."
"All this over a sailor in the water," said Kaler.
"It's murder, Frank," said McNulty. "Pure murder."
7
Gibbs sat in as Quinn and Seaman First Class Duane Anderson looked at each other. They had an unknown amount of bodies, or materials, in Baltimore's harbor, two dead sailors, and a thumb drive that needed to be checked for the contents.
And they had Anderson as the person who's bunk was switched with the dead sailor.
It made him something of a suspect from Gibbs's point of view.
"All this is about a switched bunk?," said Anderson. "Goines just asked for the change. He said he was having problems sleeping with Keene overhead."
"And Goines is dead," said Quinn. "So he didn't like Keene?"
"He said Keene was gassing him at night," said Anderson. "We're on different shifts so that wouldn't bother me while I was racked out."
"I see," said Quinn. "Did Keene know this?"
"I don't know," said Anderson. "It wasn't like it was a secret. We just didn't tell anybody. We switched the numbers, and I got Goines's bunk, and he got mine."
"When was the last time you saw Goines?," asked Quinn.
"I saw him right before our leave in Baltimore," said Anderson. "He was packing a small bag to take with him. He said he was going to drop his things in his apartment."
"Did you know he was U-A?," asked Quinn.
"No," said Anderson. "They don't share that with me."
"Did you know he was dead?," asked Gibbs.
"No," said Anderson. "He was supposed to leave and go out with his friend. I left him getting ready."
"Who was his friend?," asked Quinn.
"Lu Kotter," said Anderson. "They went everywhere together when they had leave."
Gibbs nodded. It made sense that whomever killed Goines would kill Kotter if they were best friends.
"We want you to keep all of this to yourself, Mister Anderson," said Quinn. "We're still investigating and we don't want the whole crew to know what happened."
"That will be easy since I don't know what happened," said Anderson as he stood up.
Sear and McGee walked in as Anderson left. McGee closed the door so they could talk with a bit of privacy.
"I have the water samples to cross the Hawthorne off as the murder site," said Sear. "As soon as Abby can confirm, we can take more steps."
"We still have the thumb drive to look at for evidence," said McGee. "If there is anything on it, it might break the case open."
"Anderson, the guy who left, said he and Goines switched because the guy above Goines was gassy and bothered Goines," said Quinn.
"So he isn't bothered?," said McGee.
"Working different shifts is what he said," said Quinn.
"Quinn and I will keep talking to the crew," said Gibbs. "You two head back and help the others. Bishop and Torres are bringing up body bags from the bottom of the harbor. They are going to need extra hands."
"So whatever is in the bags is the motive for the murders?," said McGee. He knew Gibbs wouldn't confirm that. It was a theory without proof. Gibbs liked proof.
"Torres said there were a lot of bodies dumped in the water," said Quinn. "Maybe we have a serial, like your friend, the fur smuggler."
"First off, he's not my friend. Secondly, he's a mass murderer, not a serial. Thirdly, he liked you more," said McGee. He held a hand to number his points. "He just left a body in my place. He wanted to give you a mink."
"Which I could have forced myself to take it in the cause of justice," said Quinn. She smiled at her younger colleague. "I would have problems ignoring the nature of the criminal involved, but that is what it is."
"I wish I could ignore you two," said Gibbs. "Take a heli back to shore, fly back to D.C. Let me know what's on the drive, and what killed the people in the harbor. We need something more than guesswork."
"On it, boss," said McGee. "Let's go, Doctor Sear. We have to catch the next flight out."
"Something is wrong here," said Sear. "I think we might have more of a problem than we first thought."
"Get me something," said Gibbs. "We have a lot of pieces, but not anything that fits together."
Sear and McGee left the room. Sear looked at the deck as he moved.
"Do you think Goines hid the drive and switched bunks to throw off anyone looking for the drive?," asked Quinn.
"It's a possibility," said Gibbs. He sat back in his chair. "We know something else. Anderson said Goines had packed a small bag to drop at his place in Baltimore. The LEOs didn't report a small bag with the body."
"So where did it go?," asked Quinn. "You don't think the killer took it?"
"Let's say Anderson is telling us the truth," said Gibbs. "Let's say he saw Goines packing his bag before they left for leave."
Quinn pulled copies of the signout sheets out of a folder. She ran her finger down the list until she found Anderson's name. Next to it was the time he left the boat. She wrote down the time in her pad.
"So Goines and Kotter also get ready to leave at about the same time," said Gibbs.
Quinn found Kotter's name. She had signed out twenty minutes after Anderson. Goines was not on the list.
"Here's where we have branching theories, and no evidence," said Gibbs. "Either Kotter knew what was going on and had been taken to see how much Goines knew about what was going on, or she didn't and had been taken for the same reason, or she told Goines, and his asking around got the both of them killed."
"I like the third because Goines never checked out," said Quinn. "He was reported U-A but had never left the boat. If Abby can confirm the water matches what was found in his lungs, then the killer was on board with Goines."
"It means we have more than one killer," said Gibbs. He let the implication sink in.
If Kotter and Goines were killed in two separate places, then their killer killed one, then the other, or more than one killer had carried out the plan.
Gibbs favored more than one killer, but that left him with wondering if any of the crew had remained behind at Baltimore until the cruise was over, and the Hawthorne's staff had missed it. Maybe the staff was in on whatever was going on, and had sent down the orders to get rid of the sailors.
They still couldn't rule out Anderson if they thought more than one man had been in on the murders.
Anderson could have killed Kotter while on leave and reported back to duty after it was done.
"Let's question the rest of the crew," said Gibbs. "We have to have alibis for all of them before we can start ruling any of them out."
"All right," said Quinn. "Before this is done, we're going to need one of those whiteboard things with the string everywhere."
Gibbs almost smiled. He hated cases like this. It reeked of conspiracy. How many of the crew were in on things? That was the real question. The next question was how many would he have to shoot if things went south while he and Quinn were at sea with their suspects.
They might be onboard with a bunch of pirates.
Gibbs opened the door and went and gestured for the next man to come in. They still had work to do.
After they were done, they were going to have to look for Goines's bag. If it hadn't wound up with the body, was it still onboard? They needed to rule it out, one way or the other.
The next few hours went slowly for the investigators. They noted times and places both on the Hawthorne and in Baltimore. Most of the crew said they never saw Goines or Kotter leave the boat.
Some of the times noted were around the same time that Kotter signed out. So they missed her on the dock, or they lied about never seeing her leave.
Gibbs studied the times. He didn't see anything he could use at the moment. They needed something solid to point at one of the people on the list so they could get them back in the box and sweat them until something fell out.
Until they had that first piece of evidence to point at someone, they didn't have anything but some bodies, a scene of the crime, and a thumb drive that could have anything and nothing on it.
"Let's go for a walk," said Gibbs. He put his notebook away, and stood. His knee complained, but the rest of him said time to shake off the dust, old man.
"All right," said Quinn. She stood and put her book away, holding the folder with the signout sheets under her arm. "Any particular place?"
"Not really," said Gibbs. "Let's start with the bunkroom and work our way to the top deck."
They walked through the ship. The crew knew why they were there. And no one liked a cop. Most veered from their approach. Anderson waved when he saw them.
"Going on deck," the seaman said. "Keene is just coming off duty."
"Look out for yourself. We don't know what happened, and you're our only witness so far," said Quinn. "Be careful, and let us know if you see anything strange while you're working.
"Can do," said Anderson. He headed for the stairs leading upwards to his duty station.
Gibbs hoped the seaman didn't wind up like Goines because of what they were doing.
Quinn led the way to the bunkroom. She took a moment to look around. Some sailors had come in to try to get some sleep before they had to go back to work.
"Goines's new bunk," said Quinn. She pointed at the bunk in question.
"Old bunk." She pointed at Anderson's bunk.
Gibbs turned in a circle, scanning the room. He noted vents were high up and looked secure. The lockers had been searched so he doubted the bag was in there. McGee would have logged it.
Would McGee know to look for a bag?
"Goines's locker?," asked Gibbs.
Quinn went to the new locker and opened it. Uniforms and extra shoes had been put in place. A bag was not among the belongings.
Gibbs shut the door. He took one more look around the bunkroom before he led the way into the hall.
He decided to head for the nearest shower room. That was where Goines had been killed. His gut told him that much. Would the bag be there?
He stopped at the entrance of the shower room. He looked around. The stalls stood empty. He stepped inside.
He didn't see any place to hide a bag at the floor level. He scanned the ceiling. Then he started looking at the walls. He paused when he saw what looked like a breaker box on the wall.
Should that be there?
He walked over and opened the gray metal box. A bag the size of a toiletries holder had been shoved in the space under where a pipe entered the wall behind the box.
"Goines's bag," said Quinn. She smiled at the discovery.
8
The operation started under the glare of mounted lights. Torres, Bishop, and McNulty were allowed to watch from shore. The Navy and Baltimore Harbor Patrol wanted them out of the way, and able to help catalogue things when the bags were brought up and dumped off.
"Is it weird they dropped Goines on top of their private graveyard?," asked Torres.
"It might have been convenient," said McNulty. He had his hands in his pockets as he waited for what they had discovered to be told to them.
"They killed Goines for something he saw the night of his murder," said Torres. "I like it. It explains him. Maybe he saw them dumping their bags over the side."
"Kotter?," asked Bishop. She frowned at her fellow agent. Could he explain the second death with the first?
"Depends," said McNulty. "You said she was beaten. They might have wanted to know if she knew anything since Goines and her were friends."
"Maybe she didn't have what they wanted, or didn't know," said Torres. "She left the boat first."
"So they grabbed her when she left the Hawthorne, took her to Goines's apartment, tortured her, and then killed Goines and dropped him in the harbor," said Bishop.
"Doesn't track," said McNulty. "They had to have grabbed Goines first. They didn't find what he had, so they grabbed Kotter next. Only she doesn't know, so they beat her to death."
"I like that as a theory, but they still had to keep tabs on Kotter so they could grab her," said Torres. "Otherwise, they called her up and asked her to show up at Goines's apartment. Was her phone at the scene, Bishop?"
"No," said Bishop. "I didn't see it while I was gathering evidence. Do you think she hid it there somewhere?"
"How long do you think this will take?," asked McNulty.
"A few hours, maybe," said Torres.
"We'll go back to the apartment and look for the phone," said McNulty. "It'll be something for us to do while we're waiting."
"One of us has to stay and catalogue what's found when they're done," said Bishop.
"Not it," said Torres.
"It's your crime scene," said Bishop. "It has to be you."
"This is extremely boring," said Torres. "I don't really do boring all that well."
"You can do this," said Bishop. "If we find the phone, and it leads to an arrest, I will swap with you so you can chase the bad guy."
"Really?," said Torres. "I don't believe you."
"I'll take McNulty with me," said Bishop. "You know we can't take civilians on arrests without permission. You can trust me."
"All right," said Torres. "Go ahead."
"Thanks, Nick," said Bishop. "Ducky and Jimmy will be here before too long, and you guys can sort out what you want to do with the bodies."
"Yay," said Torres. He waved his hands in a mock cheer.
"I doubt the phone is there at the apartment," said Bishop. "If we find it, then we'll know she was lured to the apartment by someone she knew."
"If it's not there?," said Torres.
"Then it has to be with the person who killed her," said Bishop.
"Not necessarily," said McNulty. "Someone might have found it and took it from the place without calling the cops. Someone might have found it miles away from the murder scene and didn't know what they had. But if we do find it there, it might have something on it to point to whom killed her."
"And if we can't find it there, we can ask Abby if she can hack the signal to see where it is through its signal," said Bishop.
"So it's a can't lose proposition," said McNulty. "I like it."
"Let's get started," said Bishop. She led the way to her car. "The faster we get started, the faster we can get back and help Nick."
"Thanks, Bishop," said Torres.
"We'll be right back," said Bishop. She waved before she got behind the wheel of the car.
McNulty pulled out his phone as he got in the passenger seat. He called Bee to let her know what was going on. He introduced Bishop, and explained what they were doing. Bishop said a quick hello while driving across the city. McNulty told her to watch the news. The operation in the harbor would be leaked eventually, and she would be able to see what was going on.
McNulty hung up with a smile on his face. He put the phone away and leaned against the passenger door.
"What does she think about you working for Doctor Sear?," Bishop asked.
"It's extra money," said McNulty. "And it allows me to do things I enjoy. Sear has always been a little weird, but most coroners are. I have never met one that wasn't odd in some way."
"Detective Moreland says he's the best at what he does," said Bishop.
"He's closes cases," said McNulty. "I have been chasing evidence for him the last few months. There's always something on the scene the Crime Scene guys missed."
"Like what?," asked Bishop.
"Usually something small like a tooth, or a button," said McNulty. "All I have to do is go to the scene and look around for whatever didn't come through at the morgue. Sear tries to fit the piece in, or gets someone official to look into it. Case closed."
"A tooth?," said Bishop. "Moreland said he closed a case on a finger bone once."
"That's true," said McNulty. "I can tell you about either one."
"Go ahead with the tooth," said Bishop.
"All right," said McNulty. "A body comes into the morgue. Sear gets the call. He starts doing his thing. He calls me down to the morgue. I go in. He shows me the body. He says the tooth was knocked out by whatever killed the vic. He thinks it was a brick by the shape of the wound. He told me to go down and find the tooth at the scene where the body was found."
"That seems reasonable," said Bishop.
"The tooth wasn't there," said McNulty. "I combed the whole area looking for it. I asked for the scene photos from the detectives in charge of the case. That's when I realized that the body had been dumped there."
Bishop considered the story so far. Plenty of murderers dumped the body away from where they lived. It kept the police from showing up and asking questions.
"So the next step was to get a list of everyone the victim knew," said McNulty. "After that, I just walked around with a black light until I found something suspicious."
"You walked around until you found something suspicious?," asked Bishop. "How does that work?"
"Without a definite link, a judge won't give you a warrant," said McNulty. "On the other hand, anything in plain view from the street can be used to link the victim to the scene. Using the black light, I was able to show that one of the victim's friends had something on his car. Then I saw the tooth just laying on the back seat. I made a call, secured the car, and had it impounded. The tooth fit the victim's skull. The guy went to jail."
"Did the guy have an explanation for the tooth?," asked Bishop.
"He said that the victim had been complaining about it and it must have fallen out at some point," said McNulty.
"The court didn't believe him," said Bishop.
"The prosecution showed the jury the brick. It was in the car too. He stated that the lab tests had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that the blood on the brick was the same as the victim's. The brick was in the car. The victim's tooth was in the car. Then he slammed the brick on his table and said that was what happened to the victim's head," said McNulty. "The jury went out and came back with a conviction."
"A murder conviction over a tooth and a brick," said Bishop. "What was the motive? Drugs?"
"The victim was seeing the suspect's sister, and another girl at the same time," said McNulty. "The suspect asked him to leave his sister alone. The guy didn't take the hint. The brick did the rest of the talking."
"Brotherly love," said Bishop. "I know it well."
McNulty smiled.
"There's the apartment complex," said Bishop. "Three Cee is in that building right there."
"Pull up and we'll see if we can do this the easy way," said McNulty.
Bishop pulled into an empty parking slot. They got out of the car. McNulty walked to the apartment and scanned the area next to the front door. He frowned when he didn't see anything.
"Have you got Kotter's number?," McNulty asked. He pulled out his phone.
Bishop pulled out her notepad and read off the number to him. He dialed it on his phone and waited. A small song sounded in the air. The pair walked down the front of the building, scanning the bushes allowed to grow in front of the apartment windows. She spotted a brown case laying in the dirt. She pulled on gloves and picked it up as he cut the connection.
"That was pretty easy," said Bishop. "I wonder why her killer left it."
"Maybe he couldn't find it," said McNulty. He put his phone away. "It was face down. It probably wasn't all that visible."
"That is if he knew Kotter's number and tried to call it from his own phone," said Bishop. "This thing needs to be charged so we can read it without worrying about it shutting down."
"It's probably low if it has been sitting out here since she was killed," said McNulty. "It was probably pure luck that it was even on."
"I need to drop this off at the Yard," said Bishop. "Abby will have it singing to us in no time. I'll drop you off back at the dive on the way."
"Thanks," said McNulty. "Once we know who's in the bags, we'll be able to look at people with motives."
"It looks like a cartel, doesn't it?," said Bishop.
"A violent cartel like the one Marlo used to run," said McNulty. "He would stack bodies in these abandoned houses. Anyone that crossed him got whacked. This could be the same thing except in the harbor instead of in the houses."
"You miss chasing crooks," said Bishop.
"It's the thrill of matching wits with someone," said McNulty. "There's nothing like it."
"I know what you mean," said Bishop. "There are so many pieces here. There's nothing to hook them together."
"We haven't found it yet," said McNulty. "There'll be something we can use eventually."
"You think so?," said Bishop.
"Sure," said McNulty. "This isn't going to be a whodunnit where the murderer gets away. We're going to catch him, or them, before this is over."
"I like that," said Bishop.
"And if the murderer does get away, your boss will shoot you," said McNulty.
"Don't remind me," said Bishop.
McNulty smiled.
They rode in silence. McNulty played candy crush on his phone as he tried to keep from thinking about what was ahead. It wasn't his first time having to identify a bunch of bodies and causes of death. The rest was tracking movements to see where they met their killer.
The best part was he could charge the Navy and not have to fill out the paperwork.
The Charger rolled up in the parking lot next to the piers. Very little seemed to have changed. McNulty got out. He waved as Bishop pulled out and headed back to Washington.
McNulty walked to where Torres still waited for the job to be done. He had two other men with him. They both wore blue overalls, but the older man had a fedora and a bow tie. Sear's Navy counterparts, he surmised.
"McNulty, this is Doctor Mallard and Doctor Palmer," said Torres. "They are waiting to confirm we have dead bodies to ship back to the Yard."
Mallard was the older gent. He smiled at seeing McNulty. His younger colleague nodded at the introduction.
"Nick told us you work with Cole Sear," said Mallard.
"I work for him," said McNulty.
"What's the difference?," said Palmer.
"I get to charge the Navy for my time," said McNulty.
"What?," said Torres.
"I charge two hundred an hour," said McNulty.
"What?," said Torres.
McNulty looked at his watch. He smiled.
"You owe me fifteen hundred dollars plus mileage," he said.
"I can't believe this," said Torres.
"Don't worry," said McNulty. "I'll catch your killer for you if you can't. I get a bonus for that."
"How big a bonus?," said Torres.
"It's two thousand for everyone I can get convicted," said McNulty.
"Really?," said Torres.
"And I personally guarantee all the evidence will be fitted to the customer," said McNulty. He winked.
"You are so funny," said Torres.
9
McGee and Sear arrived at the Naval Yard and went straight to the lab. The thumb drive was something he could break down and take apart. Anything he missed, Abby would be right there to pick up the pieces.
Sear broke away to go down to Autopsy. His assessment that Ducky might need him was something that McGee agreed with from what he had heard from Bishop and Torres chatting with Abby over the phone.
Abby wasn't in her lab when McGee got there. He looked around for her. Where could she be?
He decided to check the garage. They used that for large intake sometimes. And the evidence lockers were right there. Abby might be using that as a staging area to do her work.
He used the elevator to get to the garage and paused at the door. Tables had been set up. Bags of evidence lined each table. Photos and display cards had been marked down for evidence chain of custody to match clothing to any victim brought in.
Recovered bags of contraband were labeled and set on their own tables to be tested.
"This is a major mess, McGee," said Abby. She appeared from the other side of the room in her orange jumpsuit. She carried a tablet under one arm as she waved at the bags of evidence.
"These are a lot of pictures," said McGee. He indicated the table of clothes with one hand.
"They found seventeen bodies so far," said Abby. "The Navy is still diving to make sure they found them all. The bodies were in bags and in the water for various times. I'm running DNA tests for most of the bodies now, and waiting for the results. The bags of drugs and money seemed to be deposited close to the body dump, but were in a pile of their own according to what the divers said."
"They dumped the bodies and their goods next to each other in separate piles," said McGee. "That explains why they dumped our sailor in the same spot."
"But why did he surface when the others didn't?," asked Abby. "I don't know that yet."
"We found a thumb drive on the Hawthorne," said McGee. "We don't know what's on it. I thought that maybe we can look at it and see if there is anything to explain what's going on."
"Let me finish marking everything," said Abby. "We can use the Mo upstairs. Then I have to get back to checking the rest of this. Maybe the DNA results will come in while we're looking at this."
"Sounds good," said McGee. He looked at the faces of the dead men. "I wonder how many of these served on the Hawthorne."
"We'll know soon enough," said Abby. She saved her work on the tablet. She hugged it like a football while she walked to the elevator. "The Armed Forces DNA bank will kick back answers faster than the civilian databases. It will to us anyway."
McGee followed her into the elevator. The background database kept to identify dead military personnel had come in useful in their line of work for finding out who dead people were more than once. Fingerprints were usually not available.
The pictures of the faces looked bad enough in his opinion. He could imagine skin from the fingers rotting away inside the rubber bags they had been kept in. DNA sampling might have come from bones or teeth depending on the rest of the body.
McGee was glad he didn't have to deal with that in the course of his duties. Just working on a crime scene could be bad enough.
Like the guy mummified under his floorboards. That had been one of the worst surprises in his career so far.
"Let me change, McGee," said Abby. "Then we can look at your thumb drive."
Abby went into her office on the other side of lab. She came back out after a few minutes. She shrugged into her labcoat.
McGee pulled the plastic bag with the thumb drive out of his bag. He handed it over. He let her unseal the tape at the top of the bag. She made a note for later. She booted up her machine and checked the security so if there was anything on the thumb it wouldn't be allowed to do anything to her equipment.
Abby examined the files with a frown. She opened one at random and watched as something was tossed over a ship's rail in the middle of the night. She paused to take in details.
"It looks like we know why Goines was killed," said McGee. He pulled out his phone. "We're going to have to go through all these videos to see if he caught anyone's face."
"So they caught him filming them, and over the side he went?," asked Abby. "Gibbs and Quinn are still out there with them. We have to do something about that."
"I am," said McGee. He listened for the buzzing of the line to stop so he could talk to his boss. "I'm going to have to go back out there with Torres and Bishop. Before that, Gibbs has to know what's going on."
"Gibbs," said the senior agent. He sounded disgruntled.
"Boss," said McGee. "Goines filmed things being thrown off the side of the ship. That was on the thumb drive. Abby and I are going through the videos now. He might have filmed his killers."
"Got it, McGee," said Gibbs. "Find me something. We need to narrow down our suspect pool somehow."
"On it," said McGee. He put his phone away. Gibbs had already hung up.
"Why did they kill Kotter?," asked McGee. "Goines seemed to be the one procuring the evidence."
"Let's go through the files and see what Goines found," said Abbey. She loaded the earliest file. "He might not have known what he had."
"Hopefully he took pictures of their faces," said McGee. "That's what we need right now."
"Don't worry, Tim," said Abby. "If there's anything to find, we'll find it."
They went through the footage slowly. McGee frowned at one section. He pushed the pause button and slowly rewound the video file. He paused it again.
"I think we were wrong," said McGee. He stared at the frozen picture.
"What do you mean?," asked Abby, looking up from a report that had just popped up on her screen. Some of the DNA tests had been matches for Navy personnel after all. The team would have to examine their missing reports to see where they should have been other than underwater.
"Goines didn't take this," said McGee. He flipped the picture to the big plasma that Abby had hanging from her lab wall. He walked around the counter and looked up at it. "Kotter did."
Abby joined him. Goines stood in the background of the shot. He waved at whomever was running the camera. A small hand gave him a thumb's up back.
"Someone thought Kotter had taken pictures of them doing something, and went after her," said McGee. He pressed the button to let the rest run. "When they couldn't find it, they went after Goines. This is our motive. One of the people on here killed them both."
"Maybe not just one, Tim," said Abby. She waved her hand at the group of partygoers.
McGee nodded. Anyone could be a suspect. Goines could have been on things at first but had backed out. That didn't explain why he had hidden the drive if he had been involved.
The only thing that made sense is that Kotter had taken a picture of something she shouldn't have, handed off the drive before they caught up with her, was tortured and killed. Then they went after Goines on the Hawthorne. They dropped him over the side on their burial ground but hadn't expected him to surface.
Goines floating to the surface had been a monkey wrench in a successful operation as far as McGee could see. If he had vanished, the locals would have written Kotter off as something he had done. NCIS would have turned its wheels for months without any way to go forward. His reappearance and McNulty had given them what they needed to chase things.
Abby's computer dinged while they were working their way through the rest of the files. McGee felt he had one suspect at least. One of the men Kotter caught throwing things overboard had explained that he was dumping waste in the standard Navy fashion.
"Cole was right about one thing," said Abby. She scanned the report with a smile.
"What's that?," asked McGee.
"The water sample from the victim matches the water sample from the Hawthorne," said Abby. "The murder definitely happened onboard. And if all the crew is aboard except for our two dead sailors, then one, or more, has to be the murderer. We just need a way to narrow it down for Gibbs."
"I'm liking the guy who told Kotter he was just throwing trash over the side of the boat in the harbor," said McGee. "Maybe Gibbs should ask him some questions about his trash."
"I have identifications for about half the victims," said Abby. "They're Navy. I'm waiting for hits for the rest through the NCIC."
"We're going to need to go over their records to see if they served on the Hawthorne," said McGee. He rubbed his eye with his hand. "Someone is going to have to explain where these people went and why no one figured out they were being killed."
"I'll send the identifications to your desk," said Abby. "You can start digging into the backgrounds while I go over the videos."
"All of these sailors were missing and no one knew about it," said McGee. He looked at the photos on Abby's personal set up before she filed them and sent the copy upstairs to the bullpen. "They just slipped through the cracks."
"They didn't slip through good enough," said Abby. "We know they're there. We'll find out what happened. That's what we do."
McGee nodded.
"Let me know if you find out who our mastermind is," said McGee. He headed for the elevator. "It looks like the rest of us will have to go out to the Hawthorne as soon as we have something we can move on."
"Don't worry," said Abby. "You will be the first person to know."
McGee used the elevator to ride up to the bullpen. He went to his spot, glancing out the windows. When he had moved, it had felt uncomfortable taking Tony's old spot. Now he had it adjusted to his own needs.
And part of that need was the use of hacking and research tools to start checking the background of the dead sailors they had found. Once he had their general files, a search engine checked for any commonalities. There had to be a reason all of these sailors had been murdered.
Once he knew that, he could look into motives. And motives would give him some kind of trace he could check. Excluding people based on motive was just as good as ruling people in.
And he didn't like the fact that Gibbs and Quin were out there on the ocean with a bunch of suspects who had already anchored all the victims they had uncovered so far.
That was the last thing he wanted to worry about when he was trying to figure out who had done it.
Bishop, Torres, and a stranger walked into the bullpen. They looked tired. He supposed they had been out all night while the bodies and contraband had been dragged in.
The extra hands would be welcome.
"All right, guys," McGee said. "Abby has a partial list of the dead people you found. Most of the ones she has identified so far are Navy personnel. If you guys can help me look for common links, maybe we can figure out who killed them all."
"It has to be someone on the Hawthorne, doesn't it?," said Torres. He went to his desk facing Quin's on the other side of the plasma, but he didn't sit. "If they all served on that ship, then they might have been killed in the same way."
"This is Jimmy McNulty, Doctor Sear's investigator," said Bishop. She went to her own desk across the aisle from McGee's. "He helped us find the bodies. We thought we would give him a ride up so he could check in with Doctor Sear. Where is Sear?"
"Autopsy the last I checked," said McGee. "He might be helping Ducky with the influx from Baltimore."
"I think I'll stay up here if you don't mind," said McNulty. "I can pass on a morgue any day."
"You and me both, brother," said Torres.
McGee's computer indicated it had a message. He opened it and Abby's unidentified dead formed rows on the screen. There weren't as many as the sailors, but that wasn't saying anything.
"Bishop," said McGee. "Abby sent me the faces she hasn't identified yet. Do you think you could take a crack at it?"
"I guess," said Bishop. She opened her laptop and gestured for him to go ahead. He sent the pictures over. She opened the file. Facial recognition should do something for them.
"I always wondered what happened to him," said McNulty. He leaned over to peer at Bishop's laptop screen. "So he was down at the bottom of harbor. I should have known."
"You know some of these people?," asked Bishop.
"That guy for sure," said McNulty. He indicated a gloomy thin face under a pompadour. "He used to work the docks when the Greek was in town. His name was Price. He vanished ahead of a bust about two years ago. We always thought the Greek had taken him out."
"Instead he's in a bag at the bottom of the harbor," said Bishop. "Who else do you recognize?"
10
The group assembled in the secure communications room known as MTAC. Two technicians ran the equipment so they could make a secure call to the Hawthorne. They had a lot of information, but no real answers to show who had done the original crime they had started investigating.
"Go, McGee," said Gibbs, face watchful on the screen.
Quinn took up enough of the screen to show that she was there and listening to the conversation.
"We have twenty bodies recovered from the harbor," said McGee. He looked down at his notes. "And three bags of contraband and personal effects."
"Victims?," asked Quinn.
"We have twelve personnel, and eight civilians," said McGee. "We couldn't link any of them to the Hawthorne specifically, but they were all working in Baltimore Harbor."
"Missing persons?," said Gibbs.
"Most of them were reported UA, or missing, at the times they disappeared," said McGee. "We think we discovered a serial killer's burial ground."
"Go ahead, McGee," said Gibbs. He liked keeping his own theories to himself, but he didn't mind hearing the possibilities in his subordinates' minds. It allowed him to refine his own thinking.
"We have twenty white males with dark hair, about the same height and build, except for Goines. All drowned. All dropped in bags in the same spot. The other bags looked like a dope drop at first, but I think some of the victims were carrying when they were taken. They go in one bag, whatever they were carrying goes in another," said McGee.
"Goines and Kotter?," asked Gibbs.
"Kotter recorded a lot of things going on," said McGee. "The thumb drive had video of dozens of things that she had seen. I think she was an accidental witness, but we couldn't find the link to show what she had seen to make the killer go after her."
"So we don't have anything to link their deaths with the rest of it?," asked Quinn.
"The only thing that looked out of the ordinary is a confrontation with a guy claiming to throw trash overboard," said McGee. "The video doesn't say where this happened. Abby is trying to get something from the background."
"Who was the earliest victim?," asked Gibbs.
"Midshipman Steven Kates," said McGee. "He was put on UA in twenty ten. He was stationed aboard the training frigate, Concord."
"How many of the crew was stationed on the Hawthorne then?," said Gibbs.
"None of the current crew," said Bishop. "None of them were stationed on the Concord either."
"How many were in the service in twenty ten?," asked Gibbs.
"Captain Drake, his X-O Cardinger, Chief Petty Officer Slate, and Petty Officer Vernon," said Bishop.
"All the senior officers?," asked Quinn.
"Yes," said Bishop. "They all enlisted at the same time and served a lot of their time together. When one moved, the others moved."
"Backgrounds?," asked Gibbs.
"That's strange," said Bishop. She went over her printouts. She would have loved to have brought her laptop into the communications room, but she had left it out on her desk. "They've known each other since childhood, went to the same schools, joined the Navy together, and sailed together. That's not common, is it?"
"No," said Gibbs. "Someone must have pulled strings to keep them together."
"Who wrote their transfer orders?," asked McNulty. Everyone looked at him. "You got four guys moving station to station. I can see the captain requesting his second in command over and over, but the other two? What do they do that's so important?"
"One is an engineer, the other works at damage control slash general maintenance," said Bishop.
"Yeah," said McNulty. "I want them following me around from boat to boat."
"Their orders were signed by the same man, a Lt. Commander Aaron Warwicke," said Bishop. "He's posted in the personnel office."
"Background him, Bishop," said Gibbs. "Torres, and McGee. Find him and keep an eye on him."
"One question," said Quinn. "Who did Kotter catch throwing the trash over the side? That might be our weak link."
"Hold on," said McGee. He headed for the exit. The thumb drive was down in Abby's lab, but he had copied the film to his computer at his desk.
McGee went to his desk. He called up the four men that was the persons of interest in their inquiry. Then he ran the footage of the trash man on an inset. He froze it when he could see the other man's face. He had to zoom in a little which blurred the outline, but he could see enough to compare the picture to his suspects.
He walked back up to the MTAC room and put his eye to the scanner. He pushed the door open to join the others. Gibbs did not look happy to be kept waiting.
It was probably a good thing he was out on the Atlantic right now.
"Vernon is the one that was caught in the video," said McGee.
"So maybe we can crack him," said Quinn.
"Do you mind if I try?," asked Sear. Everyone looked at him. He had been silent so far, like a ghost. His eyes still had the usual vagueness, but his manner seemed to have changed. "I'll need a few props, and McNulty."
"Do you have something?," said Gibbs. He glared at the medical examiner.
"I have an idea," said Sear. "It'll be tricky, but I think we can use it to crack Vernon. I don't know about the rest."
Gibbs and Quinn exchanged a look. Gibbs turned back to the screen.
"Get what you need, and fly out here," said Gibbs. "I'll let the captain know you're coming in."
"Tell him there's a health risk," said Sear.
"Health risk?," said Quinn.
"Yes, and I am bringing out an expert and testing equipment," said Sear.
"Expert?," said Quinn.
Sear gestured at McNulty. The detective smiled.
"This will be fun," said McNulty.
"We'll be waiting," said Gibbs. He cut the connection.
"Let's talk to Abby, Jimmy," said Sear. "She'll have what we need. If she doesn't, I'll have to stop and get it before we fly south."
"Come on, Torres," said McGee. "Let's see if our personnel officer is in."
"He's probably from the same town as the others," said McNulty.
"What makes you say that?," asked Bishop.
"Stands to reason," said McNulty. "We're looking at a possible conspiracy where all the players are from the same neighborhood. Warwicke is the only one not sailing with the others. He's also in the key position to make sure the others are taken care of one way, or the other."
"He might have been the one who killed Kotter," said Bishop. "All the rest were checked in on the boat."
"If he kept the bat, we'll have something to tie him to the scene," said McGee. "First, we're going to need probable cause to search his place for it."
The group broke up at the door. McGee and Torres went to get their bags to head out to the fleet to check out a car. Bishop went to her desk and opened up her laptop. She started searching Warwicke to see if there was anything they could use on the man. Sear led McNulty toward one of the elevators to go down to the lab.
McNulty paused.
"I had a thought, two thoughts really," said McNulty.
Bishop looked up, hands hovering over her keyboard.
"These guys might have dumped people in other places," said McNulty. "If you can match Warwicke with their movements, it might be a link to missing persons in other places. And there might be other dump sites based on where the old commands happened to be stationed."
"Ohhhhh," said Bishop.
"Just saying," said McNulty. "Why drop all your eggs in one basket when you can put the baskets anywhere the Navy stations you?"
"All right," said Bishop. "I'll get a chart together. Thanks, McNulty."
McNulty smiled as he headed for the elevator where Sear held the door for him. It was a longshot, but he had the feeling that Warwicke wanted to be involved in things. He might live in the States, but he wanted to be with his brothers hurting people.
"Tell me about this idea," said McNulty as he stepped into the elevator.
"It depends on if they know how diseases work," said Sear. He let the doors close. "Hopefully, Abby will have what we need in her lab. It'll make things easier for us."
"You ever run a scam like this before?," asked the detective.
"A couple of times," said Sear.
"Really?," asked McNulty. He smiled at the thought of Cole Sear lying his head off to a potential murderer.
"It went really well," said Sear. "Mostly, I just act like the other person there is an expert on whatever I am doing, and then do the trick."
"And if it doesn't work out?," said McNulty.
"They already know Gibbs is on the trail," said Sear. "They might think they hid everything, but they're not stupid. One look at him and they know he will dog them until he finds something. Warwicke can't help them with this. Their best move is to get rid of Gibbs in some kind of accident."
"That won't work as well as they think with their graveyard exposed," said McNulty.
"That part doesn't matter as long as they can buy time to get off the Hawthorne, and take on a cover," said Sear. "If this cracks Vernon, maybe he'll give up the rest."
"Let's see what we can do then," said McNulty. The elevators doors opened for them.
11
The captain announced for the men to listen to Gibbs, who turned the public announcement mike over to Cole Sear. The doctor nodded, but didn't look happy.
"Hello," said Sear. "My name is Doctor Cole Sear. I work with the Baltimore Medical Examiner's Office in Baltimore. The reason I am here is that one of your crew members was recovered from Baltimore Harbor. Working with NCIS, it was discovered that the victim had a rare disease. Anyone who came in contact with his bodily fluids might be infected. There's nothing to worry about, but NCIS would like to make sure none of you are infected and die while they are still conducting their investigation. We want all off duty personnel to line up next to the helicopter pad. My associate, Doctor McNulty, will point you where we want you. Once we go through the off duty personnel, we are going to have them replace the on-duty personnel and have those people come down to the pad.
"The quicker we get this done, the better it will be," said Sear. "So all off-duty personnel please come down to the helipad. As soon as we administer the tests, we will send you to your crew stations to relieve the rest of the ship."
He cut off the mike.
"If you could make sure everyone comes down, Agent Gibbs," said Sear. "That would be splendid."
He left the bridge, head down.
"What is this about?," asked the captain.
"Goines's blood was toxic," said Gibbs. "As long as no one touched it, the crew should be fine. If someone did, we're going to have to lock him down and give him more tests. Then we're going to have to turn the Hawthorne around and have the crew taken off one by one and examined."
"I can't do that," said the captain. "I have orders to patrol the Caribbean for the next month."
"You're not going to be patrolling much if your crew starts dying because of this," said Gibbs.
Gibbs gestured for Quinn to follow him as he left the bridge. He headed down the ladder to the lower decks. He wanted to make sure that Vernon was in line with the rest of the off-duty crew.
He had a suspicion that Vernon would try to evade notice so he couldn't be tested. Having a doctor tell you that something could be going around was not enough when you were facing criminal charges. It was better to take your chances and hope you hadn't caught whatever the victim had when you killed him.
Gibbs wanted him exposed in front of the crew so he didn't have a place to run. If they could do that, it would be easier to crack him.
And cracking him might be the only way they could tie the senior staff to the bodies in the harbor. The others could deny everything unless one of them confessed.
"Do you think this will work?," asked Quinn. She followed behind him as he strode along.
Gibbs didn't say anything. He waved crew toward the ladder so they could make their way to the main deck. He hadn't seen Vernon yet. Where was the maintenance chief?
The NCIS agents watched the line forming on the deck. Vernon was the fifth man back. He didn't look happy to be there. Gibbs thought he would be even unhappier after the scam was started.
Sear and McNulty stood at the pad. They had scrounged a table from somewhere and two bowls were set out on it. Liquids filled both bowls. Sear wore his professional face.
Maybe he had done something like this before.
Sear and McNulty pulled on gloves and had the first four men place their hands in the bowls. Nothing happened as far as Gibbs could see. Each man was handed a paper towel to wipe their hands and told to wash them before they went back to their leisure time, or to replace their opposite number on duty.
Vernon put his hands in the first bowl, then the second. They started smoking when he pulled them out of the second bowl. He started shaking them. Sear offered him a towel. McNulty grinned.
Gibbs moved in as the line backed away from Vernon. They had been told that something dangerous could be passed with a touch. And here is the thing itself after others had been given a pass. It looked like the chief was guilty to them.
The amount Vernon knew about toxic bacteria was how they were going to crack him.
"I think you should wash your hands and come with us," said Gibbs. "We would like to go over your statement again."
"I didn't kill Goines," said Vernon. "I wasn't anywhere near him when he went overboard."
"How do you know he went overboard?," asked Quinn.
"I think you know what happened to Goines," said Gibbs. "I think you should come along and talk with us. Maybe we can cut a deal."
"I don't think so," said Vernon. He pulled out a pocket knife and pushed out the blade. "I'm not going to jail."
"Hey, buddy!," shouted McNulty. "Catch."
Vernon glanced over his shoulder. Both bowls of liquid hurled at his face. He went to duck and they caught him in the shoulder and chest instead of the head. Where the two chemicals mixed, pain shot through his chest.
Gibbs crossed the space and flung his suspect to the deck. He cuffed the man while kneeling on him. He looked at McNulty. The former detective shrugged as if to say what did I do.
"We're going to suspend the tests until we get Mister Vernon squared away," said Quinn. "Pass the word around."
"Come along," said Gibbs. He dragged Vernon to his feet. "We have some things to talk about."
Gibbs kept a grip on Vernon's arm as he walked him back to the interrogation room they had been using to interview the crew. He sat the man down before taking his spot on the other side of the table. Quinn closed the door after she entered. She stood by it to stall anyone trying to get into the room to stop Vernon from talking.
"Do you want to tell us why you killed Goines?," asked Gibbs.
"I don't have anything to say," said Vernon. "I didn't do anything. This stuff burns like crazy. Can I wash it off?"
"We know about the video," said Gibbs. "We know about your confrontation with Kotter. We know about the burial ground. We have enough to link you to twenty murders. What we don't know is why did you kill and throw Goines overboard when there was nothing on the video. Once we know that, the chances of you making a deal with JAG is going to go down. What we need from you is answers about Goines and the burial ground. Once we have those, I will write a recommendation for lighter sentencing."
"I don't have anything to say," said Vernon.
"Sit here then," said Gibbs. "I'm going down to search his rack and locker. When I get done, we'll arrange transport back to the mainland and then back to the Naval Yard. Vance is going to want to talk to him before we hand him over to JAG."
"Sear and McNulty?," asked Quinn.
"They can pack up their gear," said Gibbs. He spared a glance at the prisoner. "We have our murderer right here whether he talks or not. After we're done, Baltimore can work their own deal if they want to do that. They might just give him a lighter sentence and wait for him to be done serving whatever he gets from JAG."
Gibbs's phone rang. He flipped open the top, and frowned at the number. He didn't recognize it.
"Gibbs, go," he said.
"This is Sear," said the medical examiner. "Jimmy and I want to use a blacklight on Vernon's locker. Do you happen to know where it is?"
"Yes, I do," said Gibbs. "I was going down to search it. It's on Deck Four, Room 35. I'm coming down with the assignment sheet Quinn got from the EX OH. Don't touch anything until I get there."
"All right," said Sear. "We'll meet you there."
Sear hung up.
Gibbs folded up his phone and put it away. He eyed Vernon. The man looked a lot more shaky now than he had before his personal belongings had been brought up.
"What was that about?," asked Quinn.
"Sear wants to use a blacklight on Vernon's locker," said Gibbs. "What will he find when he turns it on, Vernon?"
The chief shook his head.
"Keep an eye on him," Gibbs said. He stormed from the room.
12
Gibbs found Sear and McNulty at the locker they wanted to search. Sear wore his blank vagueness, while McNulty smiled.
"Did he crack?," asked McNulty.
"No," said Gibbs. "What do you think is in the locker?"
"We're hoping that he kept something from Goines that we can use as evidence," said Sear. "Just because he admitted knowing how Goines died is not really proof."
Gibbs nodded. A partial reveal of guilty knowledge was not really enough for a conviction. Possession of someone else's belongings would be a harder sell for any defense.
He wanted something to tie the others in with their suspect. Once they had what looked like the outlines of a conspiracy, he wanted to grab them all.
He wasn't prepared to let the others walk away after they blamed all the dead bodies on the one he could tie to the crimes.
"We're going to have to get permission from the captain to open this, or a warrant," said Gibbs. "I don't want to let Vernon off the hook."
"I think a warrant would be better," said McNulty. "I doubt the captain is going to give us permission."
"Yeah," Gibbs said. He pulled out his phone. Bishop should be able to get him an electronic warrant in a few minutes.
Then they could pull this locker open and see what Vernon had other than his civilian clothes and keepsakes from overseas.
"Bishop," said Gibbs when his junior agent answered her phone. "I need a warrant to open Vernon's locker to look for evidence. Have JAG file it and send it to Quinn so we can do our search. We want to see if he kept something from Goines."
Gibbs hung up the phone as soon as he was done.
"Open it," said Gibbs. "The warrant will be here. I want to be sure of this guy so we can really lean on him."
"There's a chance that we can't get him to turn on his friends," said McNulty.
"All we have is an admission right now," said Gibbs. "We need more just to sink him."
McNulty nodded. He had worked a lot of cases where he had to get evidence any way he could. An admission could always be denied in court.
The ex-detective went off in search of bolt cutters. He returned in a few minutes. He put the blades to the lock's hook bar and squeezed the long handles. The lock came off the locker and clattered against the deck.
Gibbs went over the shelf first with gloved hands, then searched the clothes on the hangers, dumped out the shoes and boots. He frowned at the nothing he uncovered.
McNulty pulled a flashlight and a small sprayer from his jacket pocket. He sprayed the liquid in the bottle inside the locker. He ran the blue beam over where he sprayed. He frowned as nothing glowed in the dark.
"No blood," McNulty said. "I guess that's to be expected considering the method."
"May I?," asked Sear. Frost floated in the air around him. He pulled on his own set of gloves.
McNulty made a be my guest gesture with his arm. He stepped out of the way, holding out his flashlight. Sear shook his head at the offer.
He pressed against the shelf for toiletries, then the sidewalls, then the bottom. The bottom plate of the locker flipped up. He stepped back so Gibbs could look at the secret compartment.
Neither of the other two men asked how he had known something was there. Sear would just say there was always a secret compartment. It was a lie that they didn't want to hear at the moment.
"What do you think?," McNulty asked. He shone the light down on a small box inside the space.
"If this has personal belongings from our victims," said Gibbs. He picked up the box with his gloved hands. "Then we have a smoking gun against Vernon."
"But not the others," said Sear.
"We're going to need more," said Gibbs.
"Let's worry about getting Vernon off this tub, before we worry about trying to get enough grab the others," said McNulty. "I don't like being stuck out in the middle of the ocean with no place to go."
Gibbs nodded. He placed the ruined lock inside the locker and closed the door. He led the way back to the makeshift interrogation room they had been using.
Vernon looked shocked at the box in Gibbs's hands when the three men entered the room. Sear and McNulty took a corner away from the action. They were back to being observers in someone else's show.
That didn't stop McNulty from smiling at the suspect's guilty face.
"That's private," said Vernon. "You can't look in there."
"We have a warrant," said Gibbs. "You want to tell us anything?"
"No," said Vernon. "I think that talking isn't going to help with this."
"That's probably the smartest move you've made," said Gibbs. "I'm going to talk to the captain about taking our prisoner back to the mainland. Read him his rights, and see if you can do anything about that stuff on his face."
"He needs to wash it," said Sear. "That should help break things down."
"He doesn't leave this room until we're ready to fly out," said Gibbs. He put the box in his go bag. "Baltimore is going to want to talk to you about your murders when JAG gets done with your court-martial and trial. You better think about cutting a deal if you want to get out any time in the future."
He left the room.
"He's got a point," said Quinn. She sat at the table, tapping on it with a pen. "You'll be an old man by the time your first parole hearing comes up. You might want to think about your future."
"There's nothing to say," said Vernon. "I didn't do anything. You have no reason to look through my possessions."
"What's in the box?," asked McNulty. He put on a cheery smile.
"I don't think that's any of your business," said Vernon.
"It's souvenirs, isn't it?," asked McNulty. "It's stuff from your victims, isn't it?"
"I don't want to talk about it," said Vernon. "I want my lawyer."
"That's fine," said McNulty. "I'm not a cop anymore. If you hadn't killed Goines, we would never have got onto you. What did you think he saw?"
"I don't have to answer that," said Vernon. Sweat ran down his face.
"I think you thought he saw you dumping a body over the side," said McNulty. "That's the reason, isn't it? You were like I can't let this guy live. He saw me doing my business."
"Quit talking to me," said Vernon. He glared at Quinn. "Make him stop talking."
"Are you okay?," asked Quinn. "You look in distress."
"He's on the verge of a heart attack," said Sear. He didn't move from his corner. "I think you should ease up, Jimmy."
"One more question," said McNulty. He didn't look at Sear. He gazed at the sweating Vernon. "Did you kill Kotter too?"
"I don't have anything to say!," Vernon shouted. His face twisted as a sharp pain ran through his body.
"McNulty," said Sear. "Let it go."
McNulty stared at the sweating prisoner. He rubbed his chin. What could he do to get a confession? How could they confirm anything if their weak link refused to break?
They needed something it they wanted to move to the next link in the chain.
This was where an old guy like Lester Freamon would come in handy. He looked harmless, but was as sharp as any police out there.
"Calm down, Mister Vernon," said Sear. He approached the table and inspected the prisoner. "You don't have to say anything. We already know most of it. Just relax. The last thing you want is a hospital stay in a prison hospital. They're not very comfortable. When we get you back to the mainland, Gibbs will have a doctor take you under his wing until they verify the trophies in the box belong to the dead people NCIS and Bee Pee Dee dredged up out of the harbor. After that, you will probably get a life sentence by the Navy, and maybe ten years from Maryland. I don't know if they would give you a death sentence, but I doubt it."
"I didn't do anything," said Vernon. "You have the wrong man."
"The court will give you a fair trial," said Sear. "Right now, all we have is your admission that you knew Goines was thrown off the boat, the trophies we found in your locker, and the basis of a DNA test that will match you with the inside of the bags you threw in the water. Once we have a match, that will be the end for you."
"You can't be serious," said Vernon.
"All we need is just a tiny bit of DNA that matches you, and we're done," said Sear.
"How many times did you touch one of those bags you threw overboard?," asked McNulty. "I don't think you used gloves every time."
Vernon looked at Quinn. She raised her eyebrows at his expression. He knew he was done. There was no way he was going to walk away a free man.
A sharp pain ran through his chest. He closed his eyes. He didn't say anything. He had won.
They might have taken him, but the others would be able to do what they pleased when things settled down. They had thought he was all alone. Guarding that last secret was enough to perpetuate their hunting.
Maybe the others would hunt these NCIS agents out of revenge. That would be nice.
He smiled as he heard McNulty asked what did he do?
Sear started chest compressions as McNulty went to get a medic, and a crash cart. He should have just cleared the room when he had seen the first signs. Vernon might be on his way to face a higher justice, but that wouldn't help with Goines.
13
McGee and Torres sat in their fleet charger. Their suspect was supposed to be in his office. Once he left the grounds, they would follow him around and hope he did something suspicious. Bishop had relayed that she had secured a warrant for Vernon's belongings for Gibbs.
One down, five to go.
"We need the bat," said McGee. "Preferably with Kotter's blood on it. Suggestions?"
"We break into his place, find it, see if it has Kotter's blood on it," said Torres.
"Cause?," asked McGee. He nodded at the look on the other man's face. "We can't do any of that and hope to bring this thing to court. We need some way to get into his house and look around. We need something legitimate."
McGee didn't say that DiNozzo would have done things Torres's way with some kind of prefabrication to get inside the house like throwing a rock through the window of the house and claiming to investigate a break-in.
Tim wanted to do better than that. Any illegal stunt would draw down Vance's displeasure on them. He could do without that.
"We can't talk to him," said McGee. "He'll know we're on to him and his cronies."
"Cronies?," asked Torres.
"Yes," said McGee. He noticed their man driving out of the lot. "There he is. Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll give us something we can use."
"Maybe he has the bat in his car," said Torres. "Maybe we should pick him up and see how much he knows about Vernon, and his transportation orders."
"It's not enough to give us a wedge," said McGee. "He can claim that he was doing favors for his friends. It's unethical, but not chargeable like murder, and conspiracy to commit murder."
"Maybe we can pretend to be blackmailers and threaten to expose him for what he did to Kotter," said Torres.
"We'll need to bug his phone so we can listen in on his calls," said McGee. "I like it unless it backfires and he goes straight to the police to try to countertrap us."
"If he does, we know that maybe we screwed up somewhere and have to reassess his behavior," said Torres. "If he doesn't, maybe we can trick him into trying to kill one of us on camera."
"I like that," said McGee. "The only problem is if we can't crack him, then we've given the rest notice."
"They're probably waiting for Vernon to crack," said Torres. "I wouldn't be surprised if the captain and his executive decide to get lost once they reach port somewhere other than here."
"Yeah," said McGee.
Grabbing Vernon meant nothing if the others were involved, and were getting away with it. They had pulled up enough bodies from the harbor to think that the friends weren't going to stop until they were all out of action.
"Bishop should make the call," said McGee. "She can pose as Kotter's friend."
"Why not me?," asked Torres. "I do have the experience."
"Because it won't look plausible that she told someone like you anything," said McGee. "Wait. Kotter was killed at Goines's building in Baltimore. Do you think you can carry off a crooked neighbor approach?"
"What do you think?," said Torres. "Seriously?"
"That's the approach we'll use," said McGee. "We'll need a warrant to bug him, but once we get that, we can get into his phone and listen for him calling the Hawthorne to report this new wrinkle."
"He might try to handle things on his own," said Torres.
McGee nodded.
"All right," said Torres. "Let me call Bishop. Then we can get your mad scheme moving along."
"It can't be that different from things you've already done," said McGee.
"Being live bait is never good," said Torres. "It's a whole lot easier to pass yourself off as someone wanting to sell something when you weren't setting yourself up as a target."
"I can see that," said McGee.
"It's just a different set up," said Torres. "Don't worry. Once we have our hook in, I'm sure he will come at me for whatever I saw him do."
"So we can get him for an attempt regardless of anything else," said McGee.
"I expect you to shoot him before he can shoot me," said Torres.
"That's a given," said McGee.
Torres called Bishop and explained the trap they wanted to set, and the warrants they would need. She sounded like it was a great idea to throw out live bait for their murderer. He hung up after she assured him she would get what they needed.
McGee thought about how to get him to admit to killing Kotter. Once they did that, two of their five suspects would be down.
Torres's phone rang as they followed their suspect into his neighborhood. He nodded, smiling when the conversation was done.
"Bishop said we're ready as soon as we can plant a bug, or clone Warwicke's phone so they can listen in on his calls," said Torres. "We just need a way to clone it without him being suspicious."
"I can do it with a clean phone," said McGee. "I think I have a burner in my kit."
"You have a burner phone in your bag?," asked Torres.
"I think so," said McGee. "I know I have a flip phone for Gibbs."
"That I can understand," said Torres.
When McGee inherited Tony's spot, he had also inherited the boxes of flip phones that were used to resupply Gibbs when he broke his. They rested in a desk drawer in stacks until they were needed.
They had tried to get Gibbs to switch to a smart phone. The attempt had failed.
The first step was to make sure he had the extra phone in his bag. Then they needed a way to get close enough to clone Warwicke's phone without his knowledge. Once that was done, Nick could call with his threats on Kotter's behalf.
The best outcome was Warwicke called someone on the Hawthorne and spilled everything, implicating whomever else was in the conspiracy. Worse case, he sat on the blackmail attempt, and did nothing.
McGee figured the actual outcome would be somewhere in the middle. He might even try to whack Torres without any input from the others. If he did, they were back to square one.
Well, not all the way back to square one. They would have Warwicke for the attempt. A search might get them the baseball bat he had used on Kotter. That would be enough to charge him for one murder.
"He's heading to his house," said McGee. He pulled to the curb. "Keep an eye out while I get the phone out of my kit. Then we'll have to think of some way to clone his phone."
"No problem," said Torres.
McGee got out and went to the back of the car. He opened the trunk and pulled his bag closer. He opened a pocket and pulled out a blank phone. He closed everything back up and went back to the front of the car and got in.
"Now we have to get this phone close enough to his phone to clone the number," said McGee. "We can hook it up to a recorder and record every phone call he makes."
"That seems to be the tricky part," said Torres.
"If he has it on, and is using the Internet, we might be able to do it if we can get within ten feet of the phone," said McGee.
"We can do that depending on where he is in his house," said Torres.
"Let's check for security first," said McGee. "We don't want him to see us scoping out his lawn while we're trying to set him up."
"That would be embarrassing," said Torres.
McGee opened the console for the Charger. He pulled out a scope and used that to zoom in on the target house. He went over it slowly.
"I don't see any security cameras, dogs, or signs from the alarm companies," said McGee.
"Lights are on bottom floor, right," said Torres.
McGee focused on the indicated window. Shades blocked his view of the interior. He frowned.
"I can't see inside," said McGee.
"You said you needed to be ten feet away to jack the phone?," asked Torres.
"Yeah," said McGee. "I could do it through a window if he left it close enough."
"Walk over and knock on the door," said Torres.
"Are you serious?," asked McGee. "I can't do that."
"Just ask for directions," said Torres.
"I have a better idea," said McGee.
"Let's hear it," said Torres.
"I'll show you," said McGee. He started the car and drove out of the neighborhood. He found a pizza delivery place and parked. He went inside.
He came out with a sign, a bag of pizza, and a hat. He put the sign on the Charger, the food in the back seat, and the hat on his head.
"Let's see if my disguise will fool him," McGee said.
"What are you doing, McGee?," asked Torres.
"Going undercover," said McGee.
"I think that's my job," said Torres. They rolled back to Warwicke's neighborhood.
"I'm going to let you out," said McGee. "Keep an eye out in case he gets hinky. I'll pick you up and then we can make the phone call when Bishop and Abby have had a look at his phone."
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?," asked Torres. He got out of the car as soon as McGee pulled to the curb.
"I think I got a handle on things," said McGee. "If it works, he won't know what's going on until we're ready to take him."
McGee drove up to the suspect's house. He pulled the food out of the back and walked up to the door. He rang the bell and waited.
When Warwicke answered the door, McGee went into a spiel about his order being on time and hot. Warwicke naturally protested. McGee took out his phone and called the store. He spoke to the manager for several minutes. Then he took the pizzas out of the bag and handed them over. He explained that the store had messed up the address and the real customer had called for their food. The manager had sent it out to the real address already.
McGee waved and smiled as he took the empty bag back to the car and threw it in the back seat. He got in and drove away. Warwicke took his pizzas inside.
Torres shook his head from down the block. What was that about?
McGee pulled up to the curb and parked. Torres got in. They started back to the pizza place.
"Phone's cloned," said McGee. "We just have to return this stuff and hope Warwicke doesn't check on things."
"You weren't talking to the pizza place?," said Torres. He grinned.
"I was too busy cloning his phone," said McGee. "Call Bishop and tell her to start recording all of his calls per the warrant. Tomorrow, we start Operation Baltimore Blackmail. You're going to have to show yourself and follow him around until he asks what's going on. We'll have to come up with some story on how you found him."
"I got that part," said Torres. "Smooth move with the pizza thing."
"No one cares about delivery drivers," said McGee. "As soon as we return the sign and bag, we can head back to the Yard, and check in with Bishop. I doubt Warwicke is going to run."
"He might," said Torres. "It depends on if he thinks Vernon will crack now that they are bringing him back from the Hawthorne."
"Have Bishop check to see if Warwicke's car is lowjacked," said McGee. "If it starts moving out of the area, we can track it until we catch up with him."
"All right," said Torres. He pulled out his phone and called the office.
14
Leon Vance used to be a boxer, an undercover agent, and one of the director of Mossad Eli David's best friends before he had been shot. He stood with his hands behind his back and regarded his senior agent.
"Sitrep," he said. The reports he had already seen promised some long days ahead. He wanted to make sure the oncoming trouble was worth it.
"Vernon is under guard at the hospital," said Gibbs. He had brought his coffee to the director's office and sipped some. "Sear saved his life and that played into the scam we ran on the crew about touching the dead body.
"We think Warwicke killed Kotter for the doodad we found," Gibbs said. He made a face at the guess. "We're going to try to blackmail him."
"Really?," asked Vance. "How?"
"Kotter was killed in Goines's apartment in Baltimore," said Gibbs. "Part of the buildings were cleared out, but not all of them. We're going to try to run a bluff to see what we can shake out."
"Do you think the captain and executive officer are involved?," asked Vance.
Gibbs shrugged.
"Do you think there are more dump sites?," asked Vance.
"Bishop is running Warwicke's personal travel to see if any of it matches the ports the Hawthorne was in, as well as the other commands Drake has had," said Gibbs. "There might be other dump sites out there that we don't know about yet."
"This is a nightmare for the Navy," said Vance. "At some point, I am going to have to notify the Sec Nav so he'll be ready for the storm from the press."
"We don't really have anything, Leon," said Gibbs. "We know Vernon was involved since he had belongings from the victims in his locker. We know that Vernon followed the captain, executive officer, and a chief petty officer from boat to boat. We know that Warwicke made sure that when the captain got a new command, the other three followed. We know Kotter was killed in Baltimore, in Goines's apartment. We believe she was tortured for the gizmo, but she might have been tortured for the thrill of it. And Abby has confirmed that Goines was drowned on the Hawthorne."
Gibbs paused to take another sip of his coffee, and gather the rest of his thoughts.
"What we have to prove is that Warwicke and the rest of the staff committed the murders and dumped the bodies," said Gibbs. "We're not going to get anything out of Vernon. He won't turn on the others unless they turn on him. He knows they will never do that. If we can trick Warwicke into giving us the rest, we'll still have to fly back to the Hawthorne and arrest Captain Drake, his second, and the chief. The ship might have to be brought back to be searched for more evidence, but a confession will shore up what we already have."
"So this hoax is our only hope of grabbing the rest of the players," said Vance. "What about Sear and McNulty?"
"Sear just wants to close the case, and McNulty doesn't care as long as we get these guys," said Gibbs. "If he wasn't down in the bullpen, I would be afraid that he'd do something to Warwicke to see what would happen."
"He's been a help, but don't let him give another of our suspects a heart attack," said Vance.
Gibbs nodded. He left the office and headed downstairs where his team were getting ready to run their scam. This wasn't the first time in his career he had tried to fool a suspect into giving himself away. It wouldn't be the last.
"We're ready, boss," said McGee. "Torres has his spiel down."
Gibbs nodded.
McGee called Warwicke's office number so he wouldn't be suspicious of someone trying to call him, and having his personal number to do that. Torres took the hand set as the recording started taping.
"I would like to speak to Aaron Warwicke," said Torres. He waited for the switchboard operator to connect him. "Is this Aaron Warwicke?"
Torres grinned at the confirmation.
"It took me a while to track you down," said Torres. "I would like to talk to you about what happened in Apartment Three Cee."
McGee nodded at the denials being recorded from the phone. He glanced at Torres. The agent grinned at being in his element.
"Don't say you weren't there," said Torres. "I have pictures. I want you to pay me to keep quiet. If you don't, I'll send the pictures to the police department. There's at least one honest cop who would love to bust a navy guy."
Warwicke expressed his views on that. Baltimore was lit with the body dump they had uncovered in the harbor. Newscasters were comparing it to Marlo in his heyday.
"We're going to have a meet," said Torres. "I want you to bring five thousand dollars in cash to the meet. I'll take the money and then when I run out of it, I'll call you for another five thousand dollars. I'm not greedy. I don't need five thousand dollars a week, or anything like that."
Warwicke choked on the idea of handing over any money.
"It's the five thousand now, or jail for the rest of your tomorrows," said Torres. "I'll call back at the end of the day to tell you where to bring the money."
Torres hung up. McGee gave him a thumb's up.
"Will he believe that?," asked Quinn.
"It doesn't matter if he believes it or not," said McNulty. "All that matters is will he call the cops, or will he go to the meet and decide to take Torres for a ride in the woods."
"Ride in the woods," said all of the junior agents. Gibbs made a face of agreement before throwing away his empty coffee cup.
"Hold on," said McGee. "He's calling out on his personal phone. If it's Captain Drake, we'll have the link we're looking for between our guys."
The agents listened as the call was recorded. Warwicke and Drake discussed this attempt to blackmail the personnel officer. The sentiment was to get rid of the blackmailer and recover any evidence.
"Ride in the woods," said McNulty.
"All right," said Gibbs. "We need to lock Warwicke down tight. We know he won't give up Drake, but the call is enough to bring in the captain for questioning. Torres needs to be wired up for this meeting, and we need some place to give Warwicke a chance to kill our blackmailer."
"What about the other two?," asked Bishop.
"Unless we can flip Warwicke, or Drake," said Gibbs. "They'll walk. Our only hope of nailing them will be proving that they knew about everything going on and helped out."
"How do we do that?," asked Bishop.
Gibbs didn't answer. He didn't have any ideas. He hoped once they had Warwicke and Drake in hand, something would present itself to him.
"I wonder if they kept personal property too," said Sear. He sat at Gibbs's desk, shrouded in his coat. "It might be something to consider as far as evidence goes."
"If they were smart, they would have gotten rid of that stuff when we grabbed Vernon," said Quinn.
"They're not that smart," said McNulty. "Whatever they thought Goines had was enough to throw them off their game. And the fact that they are willing to meet a potential blackmailer to kill him doesn't say that much about how smart they are."
"The call gives us probable cause to search Captain Drake's quarters," said McGee. "We would have to serve the warrant and look for anything that might belong to someone else."
"What would that look like, McGee?," asked Quinn. "He'll be able to say it just looks like any missing personal item."
"Drake's not going anywhere," said Gibbs. "He's stuck on the Hawthorne until they sail back to shore somewhere. He knows something is up, but he doesn't know what. He might feel that he is insulated by Vernon's heart attack, and Warwicke being a fall guy for a murder we can't connect to the body dumping. He doesn't know we hooked him to both Vernon and Warwicke. We need to keep it that way for the moment. As soon as we serve a warrant on his home, he'll run because he'll know for sure we onto him. So we wait for the moment on him, and concentrate on Warwicke."
"I'm going to get a nap," said Torres. "I need to be ready for when he tries to kill me."
"Remember we'll need to put on a wire for this," said McGee. "Where should we pick as our drop zone?"
"We should use the Mall," said Quinn. "We'll still have cover, and we'll have clear lines of sight."
"Sear, you and McNulty will have to sit this out," said Gibbs.
"It's not a problem," said Sear. "We'll raid the snack machine and wait for you to come back."
"All right," said Gibbs. "Quinn and Bishop, I think you two should drive down to the Mall and look things over. McGee and I will drive down in the van when we have Torres kitted up."
"Come on, Jimmy," said Sear. "I would like to talk to Ducky and Abby while they are free. Maybe we can get another in on this."
"You said something about a snack machine?," said McNulty.
"It's this way," said Sear. He stood and led the way to the break area.
Gibbs made a face. He had missed something. He could tell from the way Sear seemed confident in his idea. He had other things to do. When Sear was ready to talk, he would.
"If we crack this, we'll have to fly out and grab Captain Drake and our last two members of the conspiracy," said Quinn. "Any ideas on the easiest way to do that?"
"I'm hoping that we can order them in somewhere and pick them up at the dock," said Gibbs. "If you can come up with some way to make that happen, I am all ears."
"I'll have to think about it," said Quinn.
"Do your thinking while you're driving," said Gibbs. "We'll call Warwicke and send him your way. I doubt he is going to want to meet his blackmailer in a public place, but he might think it's perfect for a quick murder and getaway."
"I know I would," said Quinn. "Let's go, Scout."
She waved at Bishop to follow her to the elevator as she grabbed her bag.
Gibbs heard the snack machine clunk from abuse before the other elevator pinged. He went to his desk and sat down. He still had reports to fill out on everything his team had done so far.
This sting might be the only way to crack this. He didn't like putting Torres in danger, but if they didn't try this, he didn't see any other options. He didn't want to rely on Sear's weirdness to settle things.
His eyes fell on a stray report from Bishop. He examined it through his reading glasses. He leaned back in his chair.
"McGee," he called.
"Yes, boss?," said McGee, looking up from his own screen. He was probably tracking Warwicke's phone so they could see if the guy ran instead of trying to tough it out.
"Bishop sent out a request for searches to be done in the harbors where Drake sailed," said Gibbs. "Did we get anything back yet?"
"Not yet," said McGee. "I can make some calls."
"Do that, McGee," said Gibbs. He put the paper aside and thought about other body dumps around the world.
15
Torres stood close to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial as the sun sank out of sight. They had haggled on the meeting place, but this was the spot Warwicke wanted. The agent thought it was a good place to kill someone and leave the body. Escape routes would carry their murderer either to Bacon, or Constitution, depending on where he left his car.
If he parked really close, he could shoot Torres and drag the body to his car to be dumped somewhere else.
"Can you hear me, Torres?," asked McGee.
"The connection's fine," said Torres.
They had fitted him with camera glasses and a transmitter to broadcast the meeting back to a van marked with a local plumber's logo. The van held monitors and recorders that had been put inside the shell. It had room for McGee and Gibbs to sit at the screens and watch things.
Bishop and Quinn had taken positions in the distance, pretending to be tourists visiting the nearby monuments. They were close enough to lend a hand, but not close enough to attract attention. If Warwicke spotted them, there was a chance he would recognize the trap. They still had enough to pick him up, but an admission of a crime would be better than something they had recorded after telling him they had evidence to give to the police.
His lawyer would want to see that nonexistent evidence and might be able to make a case for entrapment.
"He's coming from Bacon, Nick," said McGee. "Get ready."
Torres took a breath. He had to be cool and pushy at the same time. Blackmailers didn't have a great life expectancy dealing with fellow criminals. He had to make sure to throw Warwicke off enough to give him an edge until he had enough to make an arrest.
A warrant to take Warwicke's life apart might be enough to grab the other three without any more theatrics. That would almost make Gibbs happy.
Torres spotted the naval officer coming toward him. The man wore black to blend in with the deepening shadows. When he made his move, any witness wouldn't be able to say anything more than he wore black and was hard to see.
"How's it going?," asked Torres. "You have my money?"
"I want whatever you have right now," said Warwicke. "Then we're going for a walk."
"That's not part of the plan," said Torres. "The plan is you give me the money, and then walk away until I call you again. You don't want that murder in the apartment to be laid at your feet. I don't want to lay it at your feet. So let's do the deal and both walk away before there's problems."
"There's already problems," said Warwicke. He pulled a pistol. "I think you are about to have more than me. Give me whatever you have, or else."
"Do you really think that's going to happen?," said Torres. "We both know it's not. I have no reason to give you anything. If you kill me, the police will find the photos and come looking for you. You can't refuse since they found that thing in Baltimore close to where you killed that woman. They might want to tie you into that and get an easy win."
"I'll take my chances," said Warwicke. "They won't find your body to look for the pictures. That'll give me more than enough time to find them on my own."
"Let's get this straight," said Torres. He held up his hands to appear nonthreatening. "You killed an unknown amount of people and dumped them into Baltimore harbor, and then the woman sailor in the apartment, and now you want to add killing a federal agent on top of that? Is that the plan here?"
"What did you say?," asked Warwicke.
"You're under arrest for murder," said Torres. "I think you know the drill. Drop the weapon, and put your hands behind your head."
"I'll kill you first," said Warwicke. He raised the pistol to take better aim at his intended victim.
"If you pull that trigger, it will be the last thing you ever do," said Alex Quinn. "Hands up, or I'll put a hole in your head to let air in that empty space where your brain should be."
Warwicke tried to turn. A fistful of metal slamming into his face stopped him from finishing the move. Another clubbing blow sent him to his knees. His pistol fell out of his hand and slid across the grass by a foot. Then his hands were bound behind him as he sucked on grass and dirt.
"Do we have enough?," asked Quinn. She looked up at Torres. He gave her a grin and a thumb's up.
"Maybe," said Torres. "Let's read him his rights and take him down to the Navy Yard. Maybe we can get him to sign a confession."
Bishop jogged up. She shook her head.
"You're way late, Bishop," said Torres. "He could have killed me and got away before you got here."
"I can still kill you," said Bishop. She put her pistol away. "That's going to be a goose egg in a few hours."
"He should listen more," said Quinn. "Let's get him up and to the car. We're going to have a ton of paperwork to fill out on this."
Torres and Bishop took an arm apiece and helped their prisoner to his feet. Blood seeped from Warwicke's scalp from the blow he had taken. He glared at the agents.
"We're going to need a statement when we get back to the Navy Yard," said Quinn. "Then you're going to be processed and held until JAG can assign a court to hear your case and arrange for bail. And there is going to be some dealing with Baltimore about the murders you committed up there. You might not even get bail in that case."
"Go ahead and get the car, El," said Quinn. "We'll walk our guy here down and take him in."
"Right," said Bishop. She jogged away to get the service Charger issued to the agents.
Torres read Warwicke his rights from a card he kept in his wallet. He put the wallet away.
"McGee said that we should sit on Warwicke at the Yard," said Torres. "He and Gibbs are getting warrants for our guy's stuff. They are going to take his place apart while we do the processing."
"That's fine with me," said Quinn. She tugged on Warwicke to walk with them. "We can do our paperwork for the charges while Warwicke sits in Interrogation."
"I do have one question," said Torres. "Why did you sink everyone in the water?"
Warwicke snarled at him. He tried to shake off their hands. The grips on his arms tightened in response.
"You don't have to say anything," said Torres. "I was just curious. Baltimore might want to know when you go to trial up there."
"If you go to trial," said Quinn. "The Navy might hold you for a trial and sentencing before giving you up to another jurisdiction."
"Worst case is you get two trials and have to serve your sentences back to back," said Torres. "I would think about trying to make a deal. That might save you a lot of trouble."
The personnel officer said nothing. He had been moving his friends around for years. He had known them for years before that. Throwing them under the bus to get a lighter sentence didn't seem right. And he didn't want to make things easier for the authorities.
They wouldn't learn anything else from him if he could help it.
He wanted to warn Drake, but recognized that was a bad move as a blue Charger rolled to a stop on the street ahead. They pulled him along and stuffed him in the back seat behind the passenger seat. The man got in the back with him, the women sat up front.
Torres kept an eye on their prisoner as they drove through the streets. He wondered when he could take the recording devices off. He should have asked McGee to take care of that before they left. He could live with it for a few more hours, but it meant he couldn't do more than watch the prisoner until they took the recording gear off.
It meant he didn't have to fill out paperwork until later, but he was also stuck with the guy until someone else took charge of him.
He would rather do paperwork.
Quinn rolled through the checkpoint and parked the car in the motor pool. They got out, collecting their bags and prisoner. They decided to take him through the front door and down to the holding area with as little time spent in the bullpen as possible.
They didn't need Torres's glasses ruining other agents' cases by recording them accidentally and having a defense lawyer getting wind of that. Better to keep things away from working files as much as possible.
Abby stood in the door when they entered the building. She smiled at the three of them. She made a noise at the condition of Warwicke's face.
"Did you have to hit him, Nick," she said.
"Quinn did that," said Torres. "She was like a panther. Took him down before he could do anything."
"And I'll do it again if he gives me any trouble," said Quinn. "What's going on, Abby?"
"McGee called and asked me to get the recording equipment and go over the footage to see if there is anything I can do with it," said Abby. She gestured for Nick to go ahead. "Hopefully, there'll be enough to close the case."
"Sear and McNulty?," asked Quinn.
"I don't know where they are," said Abby. "I think they're bothering Ducky down in Autopsy."
"Let's put our guy down so we can start clearing some of this up," said Quinn. "If you can spell us, Nick, Bishop and I will work on the reports. Gibbs is going to want something better than what we got."
"You want to confess, Warwicke?," asked Torres. "That will make some of this a lot easier."
"Get bent," said Warwicke. He winced at the pain in his head.
"We should get Ducky to look at him," said Bishop.
"Let's lock him down first," said Quinn. "Then we can get Ducky in after Nick has turned in his gear. That way we can have three of us there so Ducky doesn't have to hurt him."
"Sounds good to me," said Torres.
"All right," said Bishop. "I like it."
"Let's go, Nick," said Abby. "The quicker I go over this footage, the quicker I can take my beating from Sister Emma."
"Really?," said Torres.
"She's rolling two fifties," said Abby. "She can put a spin on a bowling ball."
"I used to be a good bowler in my day," said Torres. "I can take her."
"That's a lot of confidence," said Abby.
The group split up. Quinn and Bishop plopped their prisoner down in the interrogation room and let him look at the orange walls while Abby gathered up the recording glasses and transmitter. She put up the recorded footage on her computer, then shooed Torres out of her lab.
She didn't need someone standing at her elbow and watch her work her magic.
Torres gathered up snacks and coffee for his partners and took them downstairs. He knocked on the door and entered. Bishop and Quinn sat across from Warwicke. Silence and looks greeted his entrance.
"Here you guys go," said Torres. He opened up a package of miniature doughnuts after placing cans of drink and snacks on the table. "Any word on the search?"
"Early days," said Quinn. She looked at the snacks on the table. She picked up crackers. "Gibbs will let us know when he finds something."
16
Gibbs and McGee returned to the Navy Yard with a trunk full of evidence. Part of it would need McGee and Abby to crack it open, but the senior agent had no doubt that communications between Warwicke and Drake were on the computer they had seized. That might give them enough to take Drake off his ship and put him in a room downstairs.
"He say anything?," asked Gibbs.
"We haven't tried to talk to him yet," said Quinn. "He's made it clear that he's not going to squeal on the others. Loyal to the end."
"Let him sit then," said Gibbs. "McGee and Abbs will have his electronic life exposed for us to try to pull in the others."
"How do we get Drake?," asked Quinn.
"I'll have to ask Leon to talk to Sec Nav to have Drake and his Executive flown here, and a replacement sent out to captain the ship," said Gibbs. "They're not going to want to remove a Captain unless we're dead sure."
"All we have is Warwicke talking to Drake about our sting and the confirmation they wanted their blackmailer dead," said Quinn.
"That's enough to pull Drake off the ship," said Gibbs. "Go through the evidence. See if you can get something more, something bulletproof. That's what we really need."
"I'll go down and help Abby and McGee," said Quinn.
"Find Sear and McNulty," said Gibbs. "Go over the autopsy reports with them, and Ducky if he's still around. See if you can tie one of our suspects to the bodies we dredged up."
"You know Sear is creepy, right?," asked Quinn.
"Maybe he'll turn something up that we missed," said Gibbs. "Maybe he has an idea where Warwicke kept any trophies he might have taken."
"All right," said Quinn. "I'll get another warrant and take Doctor Thirteen down to look things over if he's still here in the building."
"If they all had trophies of their kills, Drake might have some hidden away at his home, or on his boat," said Gibbs. "If we could find those and tie him to them, that would be enough to relieve him of his command. Right now, we don't have enough."
"You know better," said Quinn. "We have enough to bring him in. We don't have enough to tie him to the body dumping."
"So go find something that will tie him in," said Gibbs. "As soon as the Hawthorne reaches the end of the cruise, he can just walk off the boat and leave his two cronies hanging in the wind."
"I was thinking he would get them out of the country and set up to keep doing what they have been doing while we couldn't do anything to bring them in," said Quinn.
Gibbs glared at her.
"I'm going," said Quinn.
She went to her desk and called down to Autopsy to check on Sear. Then she called JAG to secure a warrant for Drake's house. It was a little drive on the other side of Alexandria, but she didn't mind.
If they could tie the captain to the dumping, that might be enough leverage on the others to flip them. The group had been together for a while. Group loyalty might be more important than what they had first thought.
They might all hang together and refuse to incriminate anyone else.
There was nothing they could do about that. If any of the killers refused any deal that could be put together, then Drake was looking at a huge amount of time where he wanted and could move.
Quinn smiled when the lawyers said the warrant was filed. She went down to Autopsy to collect the good doctor. She found Sear and McNulty talking to Ducky and Jimmy about the bodies they had worked on.
"Ah, Alex," said Ducky. "We were just going over the reports. Some of these will have to be forwarded to Baltimore for their own proceedings."
"Did you find anything we can use?," Quinn asked.
"They like to drown their vics," said McNulty. "And they like to keep something from them."
"The personal effects we recovered from the ship match some of the victims," said Sear. "But we've found holes. Some other things are also missing."
"Do you think Drake hid any of these in his home?," asked Quinn.
"I don't see why not," said McNulty. "Nobody knew the bodies were there until the start of this case, so there wasn't any reason to look at him."
"I've got a warrant to look around for them," said Quinn. "You two can ride along so Baltimore will have a presence at the scene."
"We're not law enforcement," said Sear.
"You could be a witness for the search," said Quinn. "When we sign over the paperwork, you'll be there to tell the detectives what you saw."
"I suppose that will be all right," said Sear. He didn't look entirely convinced. "The others?"
"We're working on probable cause for the last two," said Quinn. "If we can tie them to the captain, and Warwicke, we can use that to get search warrants. Right now, the only thing we have is the five of them are linked together through their transfers."
"Let's do the search," said McNulty. "We're just spinning our wheels with the rest of this. We already know how the victims died, and none of them had anything on them from their murderers."
"All right," said Sear. "We can snoop a little."
"If we can find those missing personal effects, we can pull the captain from his ship, and think of some way to get the last two," said Quinn. "Don't be so down."
"It's the nature of the business," said Sear. He shrugged. "Maybe there will be something else there we can use."
"That's the spirit," said Quinn. She turned and left the room.
"It's not really the nature of the business," said Ducky. He smiled gently.
"Some days," said Sear. "Some days, Doctor Mallard."
He slumped out of Autopsy, head down. A piece of winter had started to form around him, but it relented once he started walking after Quinn and McNulty.
Quinn took her escorts to the motor pool where she signed out a charger to drive. She threw her go bag in the trunk as the men took their places as passengers. She got behind the wheel, and checked the address for the Captain's house. She headed out of the lot.
"If we can tie Drake in, do you think he will flip?," asked McNulty from the shotgun seat.
"I doubt it," said Quinn. "I think they are too loyal to each other. It would take a miracle to get them to testify against each other."
"I wonder how many people they actually killed," said Sear from the back.
"What do you mean?," asked Quinn.
"I don't think they just started with what we found," said Sear. "I think they put in a lot of time perfecting their technique."
"So you think they left a trail?," asked Quinn.
"All the way back to their hometown," said Sear.
"Did Bishop find anything at the other ports Drake sailed through?," asked McNulty.
"I don't know," said Quinn.
"I think we should ask to see if something turned up," said McNulty. "That might be another way to turn the screws."
Quinn nodded.
This whole investigation had started with a chance finding of a body. It was only a matter of time before the conspiracy had made a mistake. Now the failure to conceal the body was coming home to roost.
Sear had also been a catalyst to everything. Somehow he had identified the body and the fact it was a service man. Maybe that had been a bit of luck too. It just seemed strange to her.
The missing personal effects should have stopped him in some way. Instead it had slowed him down only a little from what she could gather.
She could see why Ducky thought he was top tier, even if he seemed mopey and strange. More than a few coroners she had met seemed a little strange if she was honest.
She and McNulty talked old cases as she drove across to where Drake lived. The time slipped away until she pulled into the street and started looking for the address. She slowed to a stop in front of the mailbox in front of the small house.
"How do you want to do this?," asked McNulty.
"We open the door and look around," said Quinn. "We keep everything aboveboard and try not to leave a mess. If we miss, we don't want Drake to try to sue us to get out of being prosecuted."
"He'll have the effects in the box and hidden somewhere," said Sear. "He probably thought no one would ever be able to search his house."
"I think we should start with his personal office and work our way out from there," said McNulty.
"Sounds like a plan," said Quinn. "Let's get started."
They got out of the car. Quinn retrieved her bag from the trunk and they walked up to the front door. She picked the lock so they could go inside.
Sear went to the kitchen in the back of the house as the others searched. Fog surrounded slightly as he looked out the back windows. He frowned at what he saw.
"Agent Quinn?," Sear called. "How expansive is that warrant?"
"We're allowed to search the whole property," Quinn called back. She walked back to the kitchen. "Why?"
"I think we might need to search the yard," said Sear. He walked out the back door and looked around, noting the privacy fence keeping the neighbors from seeing what he was doing.
Quinn followed him. She frowned. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary. What had drawn the doctor outside?
He walked around, staring at an outside hearth. He circled it until he was close enough to touch. He tried to push the bricks out of the way. They refused to move.
He touched each brick, looking for something. He touched a button to unlock the hearth. He pushed on the construction. It moved smoothly out of his way so he could see a tunnel leading down under the stone patio.
"I wonder what's down there," said Quinn.
"Maybe it's the key to putting Drake behind bars," said Sear.
"Let me get my bag," said Quinn. "We're going to need pictures of this before we go down and have our look at things."
"That's fine," said Sear.
McNulty joined Sear at the hole in the ground. He scratched his head.
"What do you think is down there?," he asked. "And how did you know it was here?"
"I see dead people, Jimmy," said Sear. "I think we've found enough to bring in Drake at the very least. If we can get the other two as well, our job will be done."
McNulty scratched the back of his head.
17
Gibbs looked at the shaft as Quinn went over how they found it. She seemed hard pressed to explain how Sear had known to search the outdoor hearth for a secret passage.
He knew that feeling. He had felt the same way when Sear had asked about Mike's coffin the first time they had met. He had known what the pieces were when he had seen them on the scrap pile.
But they didn't have time to unravel whatever mystery the doctor kept hidden. They had a conspiracy of serial killers that needed to be put down.
And this discovery of a secret room could be what they needed to do that.
"Have you been down there yet?," asked Gibbs.
"No," said Quinn. "I wanted to have everyone here in case they left bodies down there."
Gibbs nodded. He doubted Drake had left that kind of evidence laying around, but stranger things have been known to happen. Finding a ton of bodies in the hole meant he would have had to look over Quinn's find personally, but if there weren't any, then he was on site in case something showed up that needed him to act.
And if there was solid evidence in the bunker Sear had showed them, then he was flying back out to the Hawthorne and arresting Drake in person.
He had questions about how Sear happened to focus on the hearth. He had no doubt that the medical examiner would lie to him unconvincingly. He might know his way around an act to trap someone, but his personal lies were startling bad.
On the other hand, the warrant was good for everything on the land. It would be up to the court to figure out how much to believe the medical examiner if he was called to testify. That much was out of Gibbs's hands.
The best they could do was not mention Sear except as someone representing Baltimore in the search. Most of the bodies were from that jurisdiction. Sear had helped deal with the autopsies and identifications. The prosecutors would have to work a little bit on the rest.
The real problem was McNulty and his shady past. Defense would have a field day with him as Sear's investigator. He put that problem to the side. There was nothing he could do about it.
"We're going to go down and look around," said Gibbs. "Keep an eye out. There may be traps set up to destroy any evidence. We need something to tie Drake to the body dump before we can pull him off the Hawthorne."
The group of agents and standing by coroners nodded. There might be anything under the ground.
Gibbs walked to the hidden stairwell and descended into the ground. His team followed him with bags slung over shoulders. They spread out to make sure bodies weren't laying around before they started taking pictures.
The small space was quickly documented and gone over by the team. They found two things of interest.
One of the rooms had a tub set up with water piped in from the house. A cut out at one end was just big enough for a body to fit into. The investigator took a picture before checking if the water ran. He frowned at the implication.
The other thing of interest was the display board set up in another room. Identification cards filled most of the surface. A quick glance told Gibbs that more bodies were out there waiting to be discovered.
They needed to pick Drake and his two officers up before they jumped ship and vanished at some port outside the United States.
"This is a lot more than twenty," said Nick, voicing what they were all thinking.
"Bishop, bag and tag these IDs and start running background checks," said Gibbs. "McGee, start calling our other offices where Drake has been and find out if any of these people belong to them. Quinn, call JAG and get a warrant. The three of us are flying back out to the Hawthorne as soon as the warrant comes in."
"Sear and McNulty?," asked Torres.
"They can have Drake after we take him," said Gibbs. Local law enforcement, which neither the medical examiner and his investigator were, couldn't grab personnel off a boat at sea. That came down to NCIS. The senior agent wanted his suspects to face the music no matter what.
"Gibbs," said Bishop. "Some of these cards have prints on them."
"Lift them and run them against Drake, and the others," said the senior agent. "That'll be enough to bring all three in as soon as we get a warrant to bring them back here to Dee Cee."
"On it," said Bishop.
"Rota didn't find anything in Spain," said McGee. He hung up his phone. "They'll check the residences for us when we match the names to missing people."
"Anybody else?," asked Gibbs.
"Not yet, Boss," said McGee. "As soon as I run the background checks, the country of origin should narrow things down for us."
"We need to find those bodies, McGee," said Gibbs. "Their families deserve that much."
"I will, Boss," said McGee. "As soon as we have a location to search, I'll get anybody I can to dredge the ocean."
"See if you can get Reeves to help you with that," said Gibbs.
Reeves had been working for MI-6 when he had first encountered NCIS. He had decided to work based out of the Yard as an agency liaison to his home country, and with British operations touching naval concerns.
While he wasn't a member of their team, he did help them when he didn't have a case of his own to handle.
And the British might want to clear any missing persons case from their files if some of their citizens turned up among Drake's trophies.
Gibbs didn't like all of this had been going on for years and no one had stumbled on it before now. What had triggered them into killing the two sailors? That had been the cause of their downfall.
He decided he could ask Drake when they brought him in. He couldn't be allowed to murder any more people.
He needed to arrange for another flight out to the Hawthorne. It looked like their cruise would have to have three officer replacements before things were done.
He took a moment to wonder what the executive and the chief had kept out of the five. Would he find that at their homes?
He needed a warrant, but he couldn't think what his probable cause could be.
He decided that he would just bring them in for questioning considering their shared background. If he could massage probable cause out of that, he would.
Gibbs frowned at the earliest date on the licenses he could see. The place of residence tugged at his memory. This might be the first victim.
"Bishop, didn't you say all five of our guys were from the same town?," Gibbs asked.
"Yep," said Bishop. She ran a scanner over the prints from the cards.
"McGee!," called Gibbs. "Call Drake's hometown and see if they have some kind of water there. Ask them about drownings before Drake's group went into the service."
"On it, Boss!," called McGee from somewhere on the other side of the bunker.
There was a chance that Drake's killers had started in their hometown and had left victims there. Had they dumped the bodies in the water? Had they made sure the victims had not surfaced?
Maybe they hadn't. The first time left the most clues. After that, they learned how to clean up their areas of attack. People would just vanish with no clue on where they went, or how they got there.
Exploiting the Navy to enlarge their hunting grounds was in character. How many other sailors had been taken and dumped under the sea.
Gibbs had already decided these five men weren't getting away with what they had done. One way or the other, they were going to face justice.
"There were three suspicious drownings before Drake and his cadre joined the Navy," said McGee, appearing with his phone in hand. "I called up and checked. The local sheriff said all three looked like accidents but one of the victims was a local swimming team champ, and the other two used to practice their boarding and knew how to swim. I asked him to send any files to the Yard so we can look them over."
Gibbs nodded. He had a fairly good idea of how the rest of the case should go. They had to go over the evidence, notifying JAG about how they were proceeding, secure warrants for Drake and his other two crew members, arrest their suspects and bring them back to Washington, and then JAG would negotiate with the other jurisdictions involved.
At some point, Vance would have to notify his counterparts that some of their missing persons were anchored in the nearest body of water that Drake's crew could find. And then the family notifications would have to be given.
Family notifications were always the roughest part of the job, and no one liked to tell people their loved ones were not coming home.
Gibbs had done his fair share as a Marine, NIS, and NCIS. He hated it.
The only question that remained is why had his two victims been taken? That is what had caused all of this to unravel after years of successful operation. That and Sear's weirdness.
Gibbs let his team work while he climbed out of the bunker. Leon was going to want a sitrep before the press got a handle on what was going on.
After that, the case would be a circus.
18
Gibbs glared at the ocean as the helicopter headed for the Hawthorne. The ship had been ordered to Puerto Rico for the new captain and executive officer to be transferred aboard. He wanted to grab Drake and his remaining minions before they reached port and vanished.
They had to board, find their three targets, and get them back to the helicopter. And their targets probably didn't want to go.
Did he want a gunfight in the narrow decks of the ship where cover would be nonexistent? They needed to force Drake out in the open somehow before risking his crew, and the rest of the team, in a crossfire.
He couldn't keep the flight or the transfer orders a secret from Drake. There was no way he could just fly out to the Hawthorne without someone on board knowing they were coming. And he couldn't tell any of those hypothetical people not to talk to their senior officer.
Flying out as fast as they could with minimal warning would have to do. There were already a lot of places to hide on the boat. He hoped they didn't have to play hide and seek with their suspects.
People always tried to run. Even on a boat, they try to get away from being captured. He didn't understand the quirk, but knew enough to use it against his suspects.
The helicopter dropped down on the pad. The pilot powered down. Deck hands would have to refuel the beast for the trip home.
Gibbs undid his helmet and put it on his seat as he went to the door. He left his go bag under his seat. He was here to make an arrest first. Collecting evidence would take place after that.
He had no doubt the killers had personal effects hidden on the ship. All he had to do was find them.
"The captain?," Gibbs asked one of the deck hands.
"He should be on the bridge," said the deck hand. He pointed at the tower rising out of the center of the ship.
"Right," said Gibbs. He doubted Drake had waited for the helicopter to touch down before making up his mind he wouldn't go quietly. It still had to be checked.
"Torres, Bishop, find the engineer," said Gibbs. "Quinn, McGee. The Ex Oh is yours. Put them in the office we used earlier until we're ready to fly out."
"Where would they go on a boat?," asked Quinn.
"Let's try where they work first, then we can start looking for them," said McGee. He waved for Quinn to follow him. "Let's try the Ex Oh's office, then his quarters."
Gibbs headed for the bridge. The faster he had Drake in cuffs, the better he would like it.
He made his way to the control room. He didn't see Drake anywhere on the way. He stepped inside the bridge, glancing across the screens and people monitoring the ocean around them. He didn't see the officer.
"Drake?," Gibbs asked the nearest seaman. The sailor looked around the room.
"Try Neely," said the sailor. He pointed at a man standing at the window overlooking the deck. "He's the officer on watch."
Gibbs nodded. He strode over to the lieutenant. The man turned to face him. He looked like he had just been issued his commission. He frowned at the civilian approaching.
"Drake?," Gibbs asked.
"He left to settle some problem in Engineering," said Neely. "What's this about?"
"He's relieved of command," said Gibbs. "You're in command now."
"Can I ask what this is about?," said Neely.
"We think Drake, the executive officer, and a chief petty officer were involved in a criminal conspiracy," said Gibbs. "I'm here to take them back to the mainland."
"I'll page him, but if he knows you're here for him, he won't come up to the bridge," said Neely. "He'll hunker down wherever he is."
"Call Engineering and see if he's there," said Gibbs.
Neely went to an intercom and pressed the button. They waited for an answer.
"Drake here," said the captain.
"This is the Bridge, Captain," said Neely. "I have an NCIS agent here who wants to talk to you. Can you come back to the Bridge?"
"Tell Agent Gibbs that he should think about leaving the ship," said Drake. He cut the connection.
"Helm, cut the engines," said Neely. "Drop anchor."
"Aye, sir," came the replies.
"Shepherd, I'm going down to Engineering," said Neely. "No one gets on or off the ship until we have things settled."
"Aye, sir," said Shepherd.
Neely headed for the door. He shook his head. Gibbs followed.
Torres and Bishop should already be down at Engineering. Maybe they knew something that could help this situation.
His gut told him the exec would be in Engineering too. He didn't like what that meant.
"Is there more than one door into Engineering?," asked Gibbs. This could turn into a hostage situation, was probably already turning into a hostage situation.
"No," said Neely. "And the one we have is a foot thick piece of steel. If we have to force our way in, we'll have to get a cutting torch and it will take hours to cut out the lock."
"Can we blow the door in?," asked Gibbs.
"If we had a torpedo," said Neely.
Gibbs frowned. There had to be some way to get in that room. Drake couldn't be allowed to hold the ship hostage.
"If you had to break in there, Neely, what would be the best way?," asked Gibbs.
"A cutting torch, a shaped charge, maybe some kind of explosive against the hull," said Neely. "The venting is too small for a human being. The section is enclosed. The hull fits right over the propellers so there's no way in that way."
"So we can't get in there," said Gibbs. He considered options as he spotted the rest of his team around the sealed bulkhead leading into Engineering. A crowd of crewmen milled about with them.
Neely walked over to the nearest crew and asked what had happened.
"The Captain and the Ex Oh came down and ordered everyone out," said the crewman. "Then they closed off Engineering."
"Anybody else in there?," asked Neely.
"Just the Chief," said the crewman.
"We can't get in there," Gibbs said. "Is there any way to make them come out?"
"Not unless we can get tear gas in the venting system somehow," said Neely.
"We can turn the fire suppression system on, but that would kill them if we couldn't get through the door," said one of the crewman.
"We can chuck smoke through the venting system," said another crewman. "It would take a lot to flood the compartment."
"Bishop, can you fit in the vent system?," said Gibbs.
"Maybe," said Bishop. "I don't know."
"Harris, get as many smokes as you can," said Neely. "I can't believe I'm going along with this."
"We need you to climb into the vents, Bishop," said Gibbs. "Then throw the smokes in. We want them to open the door for us."
"All right," said Bishop.
"Someone get her a gas mask," said Neely. One of the crew broke off to follow the order.
"A mask?," said Bishop.
"In case the smoke goes back into the venting," said Neely.
"Do not engage, Bishop," said Gibbs. "You don't want to get into a gun fight in an enclosed space. Throw the smoke and back out. If you have to start shooting, try to get out of the vent if you can."
"Got it," said Bishop.
"I thought you were going to let me chase the bad guys," said Torres.
"You're not small enough," said Bishop.
The grenades and mask arrived. Bishop took off her coat and made sure that her gun wouldn't snag on anything. She pulled the mask on the top of her head so she could just pull it down when she threw the smokes.
"Open the vent," said Neely. "Pull the tab on the center grenade and drop it in the compartment. The grenade will do the rest."
"Got it," said Bishop.
The crewmen opened the nearest grill on the venting system. They let Bishop use a ladder to put the bundle of grenades in first before hoisting herself into the system. She started the noisy crawl into Engineering.
She needed a distraction.
Gibbs picked up the intercom phone and called into Engineering. He needed to get Drake on the phone to give Bishop time. He let the phone ring.
"What do you want?," asked Drake.
"This is Agent Gibbs, Drake," said Gibbs. "Why don't you come out of there? We can have a talk back on the mainland."
"I would rather not," said Drake. "If I were you, I would get off the Hawthorne."
"What are you planning?," asked Gibbs. His gut twinged telling him what he thought.
"I don't think you need to know," said Drake. "Don't try to stop us."
Gibbs heard a pop, then a series of pops. Coughing ensued. Then he heard gun fire. His face hardened. He had ordered Bishop not to engage. What was going on? They couldn't get through the door to help her.
He hit the wall with his fist.
The door seals tracked back and the wheels spun. The door opened. Gibbs stepped back as smoke drifted out of the compartment.
"They have a bomb in here," said Bishop. She stepped out of the smoke and pulled off her mask. "It's up next to the engine."
Gibbs plunged into the smoke, handkerchief to his face. He checked for a remote on the wounded officers. Bishop had done a good job with that. He jogged to the bomb and winced.
They had set a timer and it was running. He checked the mechanism for traps, but didn't see anything. Neely appeared at his side.
They had to risk moving it. They didn't know what it would do, but the Hawthorne would be damaged enough to be scrapped if it went off in the Engine Room.
"Topside," said Gibbs. He grabbed one side. The bomb weighed a lot more than he liked.
Neely nodded as he grabbed the other side.
The two of them headed out of the compartment, Neely ordering the men to get out of the way. They climbed up to the main deck, working the bomb around tight corners and ladders. They took it to the stern of the boat.
"Tell the Bridge to pull the anchors and full speed ahead," said Neely.
They threw the bomb in the water as the engines started and the anchor chains retracted from the bottom. It blew up on impact, throwing water high into the air.
"Let's get the rest of this cleared away," said Neely. "I don't know how I'm going to write this up."
19
Gibbs sipped at his coffee, reading at his desk. He was halfway through the paperwork from the Baltimore Body Dumper case as the press was calling it. Baltimore Pee Dee had taken most of the credit as the lead investigators.
He was fine with that. He didn't join NCIS to get recognition for doing his job.
He looked around his team's part of the bullpen. It was empty except for himself. McGee had gone to England with Reeves. Bishop and Quinn had flown to Spain. Torres was in Australia. Locations of other body dumps had been confirmed. They were there with the local NCIS officers to link them back to Drake's crew.
Divers at Pearl and San Diego were being readied there.
The charges were climbing and JAG was dickering with the other jurisdictions on who got to try the Body Dumpers first. The five of them would be in court longer than they would be in jail from the looks of things.
They wouldn't be drowning people. That mattered more than the punishment, but it would be great if they didn't escape jail scot free.
At least Bishop shooting Drake and the other two on the Hawthorne had left a mark.
His agent used her pistol on the grill inside Engineering, dropped the grenades, and then dropped down inside the room. Cardinger had gone to set off the bomb. He got shot first, then the other two when they tried to stop her from interfering. The executive officer had still been able to dial in a random amount of minutes and pressed the fire switch on their makeshift bomb before she could club him down.
It had been luck that Cardinger hadn't been able to fire the thing before Bishop had wounded him.
The air turned chilly. Gibbs looked up from his paperwork. Cole Sear had just got off the elevator. He walked across the room toward Gibbs's desk. People close to him shied away from him as their breaths turned to mist, and gooseflesh kicked in.
"Hello, Doc," said Gibbs. "What brings you to the Navy Yard?"
"I came by to talk to Doctor Mallard," said Sear. "But I wanted to talk to you first before I did that."
The doctor reached into his coat pocket. He pulled out a faded picture of a little girl smiling with a tooth missing and pig tales. He handed it over.
"Who's this?," asked Gibbs. He picked up the photograph and checked the back for writing.
"This is Leonard Drake's first victim, Shelly Drake," said Sear.
Gibbs sat back in his chair. He looked at the photograph again.
"Shelly Drake?," he asked, but his gut was already putting details down ahead of the rest of him.
"His sister," said Sear. "This was the first murder he committed. He drowned her in the family bath tub."
"Can you prove this?," said Gibbs.
"Not really," said Sear. "There was no evidence left behind at the crime scene. And the cause of death was ruled as an accident by the local undertaker. No one would believe that a twelve year old would drown an eight year old in the bath."
"But you do," said Gibbs. He believed it too thanks to the circumstances around Drake.
"I have seen the equal or worse working for Baltimore," said Sear. "I want to prove he did it. I just don't know how without a way to exhume the body."
"You think you can find evidence of a crime thirty years later?," asked Gibbs. Offices all over the world did day after day. It wasn't as much of a long shot as he made it seem with his question.
"I don't know," said Sear. "I would like to try."
"All right," said Gibbs. "Is this what you came by to talk to Ducky about?"
"No," said Sear. "He called about the results of the dead marine that was found. He wanted to show me something."
"The guy with cancer?," asked Gibbs.
"I think he went on the back burner when the body dump was discovered," said Sear. "I suppose his tox screens finally came in and they disprove my conjecture."
"Go down and talk to Ducky," said Gibbs. "I'll ask JAG for an exhumation order for the sister and the three boys we know about from Drake's town. Maybe you and Ducky will find something, maybe you won't. I can try to give you a shot."
"Thank you," said Sear. "I don't want Drake thinking he got away with it."
"Unless you find something, he did," said Gibbs. "But he'll also know that we know he did it, and he's getting punished regardless."
"I'll talk to Doctor Mallard and Doctor Palmer," said Sear. "Maybe we can find something."
"Ducky will have to sign off on this in any case," said Gibbs. "He's the authority for the rest of the autopsies. He needs to at least sign the paperwork if you want to get this past JAG."
"I'll talk to him about it," said Sear. "Mrs. Drake is going to want the picture back."
Gibbs handed him the picture. He put it back in his coat pocket.
The air started warming again. Gibbs made a note, but said nothing. He doubted Sear could explain the temperature change to his satisfaction.
"How did you get on to this?," asked Gibbs. He picked up his phone and punched in the number for JAG, trying to think of someone would sign an exhumation order.
"McNulty found it," said Sear.
Gibbs thought about that explanation and it made sense. There were some questions about why McNulty was looking in the first place, but a good detective would think about a drowning connected to a serial killer and think he did this one too.
Would JAG agree with his logic and sign the exhumation order? If he couldn't get them to do it, what were his options? Could he prevail on the locals to do the job?
Sear left the bullpen, heading for Autopsy. He didn't project the cold around him as he walked, but people weren't getting too close to him.
His reputation as Doctor Mallard's Weird Colleague was already spreading around the building.
"This is Commander Courtland's office," said a suspicious voice on the phone. That cut into Gibbs's musings.
"This is Special Agent Gibbs," said Gibbs. He thought about the girl in the photo. He didn't want Drake to get away with it either. "I would like an exhumation order to examine a possible victim of Leonard Drake and his cadre."
"Name of victim?," asked the voice. She sounded bored, and not really aware that she should be asking him questions about his probable cause.
"Shelly Drake," said Gibbs. "The death was a supposed accidental drowning. I think this should be reassessed."
"Based on what?," asked the JAG lawyer.
"The suspect kills people by drowning them," said Gibbs. "The victim was drowned. I just want to make sure this was an accidental drowning and not a murder."
"The modus and the connection is there," said Courtland. "I'll have an order drawn up so you can exhume the body. Who's going to be doing the autopsy?"
"Doctor Donald Mallard and Doctor James Palmer," said Gibbs. "A medical examiner from Baltimore named Cole Sear will be there to observe the procedure in case they can use it in the civilian case being brought against Drake and the other four."
"All right," said the lawyer. "I'll issue the order. Anything else?"
"There were three other suspicious deaths connected to Drake," said Gibbs. "Can we exhume them too?"
"Same cause?," said Courtland.
"If you can," said Gibbs. "I would like to make sure that he doesn't walk away. Four more murders might be just enough to tip the scales."
"I don't think he's going to walk away from this," said Courtland. "Leonard Drake is looking at a thousand years in Leavenworth. And then the rest of the jurisdictions want to talk to him about their missing citizens."
"That's good to know," said Gibbs. "I'm looking forward to seeing him go away."
"I'll call you about trial prep in a month," said Courtland. "That's how long you have to dig up anything else before we go before a judge."
"We should have reports filed in a few days," said Gibbs. "That'll give you a chance to look them over before prelim motions."
"I'll be waiting," said Courtland.
Gibbs hung up. He stood. He had to break the news to Ducky about this. Four more murders added on to the dozens they knew about would make this the worse case they had worked together.
He took the elevator down to Autopsy. Sear and Ducky stood at Ducky's desk, going over the paperwork of a case.
The sliding doors let him in with a hum.
"Ah, Jethro," said Ducky, smiling. "We were going over the case from Roanoke."
"The marine with no obvious cause of death," said Gibbs.
"Yes," said Ducky. "It was exactly as Cole stated. There was a large dose of barbiturates in his system. We're going to have to notify the family about this as the cause of death."
Gibbs nodded.
"I talked to Commander Courtland," said Gibbs. "She is sending over the exhumation orders you requested."
"That was fast," said Sear.
"Ducky and Palmer will be listed as the coroners on the order," said Gibbs. "I asked Courtland to put you on as an observer. Anything you find can be taken back to Baltimore."
"Exhumation?," asked Ducky.
"I think Leonard Drake killed his sister," said Sear. "I think she was his first victim, and he got away with it."
"Until now," said Ducky. "So we're going to bring the body back here. After all this time, there won't be much to find."
"Bodies," said Gibbs. "I got orders for the other three deaths. This is a small amount compared to what we've already uncovered, but I think it would be better if their parents knew they didn't die accidentally, and their murderer is going to be convicted for it."
"Let's see what we can do to make that happen," said Ducky.
