The Next Morning:
Gibbs arrived at the precinct at six and walked through the front door expecting Rizzoli to be waiting for him tapping her foot in exasperation. Instead he found Mickey waiting. He wore a smirk that covered his Irish puss like it been planted there. "So Superman, you came back for more? She's not in yet. She should be screeching around the corner any second. Hey, did you drive with her yesterday?"
Gibbs laughed at the sergeant. "Yeah. She drives pretty well for a girl."
Mickey's eye brow shot up. "You think she drives good? What a yah, nuts? Wait a minute… you're one of those Beltway Nuts who drive like maniacs."
Gibbs gave his smirk back. "Hey Washington drivers got nothing on Boston drivers. I think you have to be crazy to drive in the city, whatever city you're living in."
At that moment Gibbs heard the tapping of heels on the granite floor behind him. Mickey just smiled and nodded to Gibbs. "So Superman, what do you say we go ask some questions of our suspects."
Jethro laughed and realized that she had said 'our' suspects. He followed her to the interrogation room and waited for her to clear it with her lieutenant. Since he'd invited NCIS to the table he gave the okay to let him in on the questioning.
The first suspect, Steven Lancer, sat across the table, slouched half asleep in his chair. He looked like he'd slept in his clothes and probably had. The officers told them that there was also the stench of stale beer on him.
Gibbs watched him through the interrogation room window for a few minutes. He wanted to see how anxious Lancer became, if at all. He seemed too relaxed or anesthetized to feel anything, but you never knew what would go through a suspects mind.
Rizzoli wanted to go in and start the process and she pressed Gibbs to get in the room with Lancer. "Gibbs we don't have all day. Other detectives want to use the room as well. Lancer is just sleeping. Let's go wake his ass up."
Gibbs chucked at her impatience. "Detective, just sit and watch. Is he sleeping, in a stupor or is he waiting to see what we do? Is he hiding something behind this sleep mode? I've had suspects sit and try to slip by me this way. I'm a patient man, just sit and watch."
Jane gave him a look that said 'Prove it to me." He gave her his grin and turned to face the window and watch Lancer.
Steven Lancer kept sleeping or at least gave the impression that he slept. Gibbs caught the moment when he went from a real sleep to feigned sleep. "He's awake. You can tell by the less labored breathing. He has also started sweating. He's worried about why he's here and how much we know about him. Give him another few minutes and then we go in."
Again the man went past her expectations. She had based her knowledge of him on the picture he presented downstairs with Mickey. He was anything but the stodgy old man she thought he was.
Fifteen minutes later the detective led the way into interrogation and sat across from Lance. Gibbs sat back in the corner and watched the young man's eyes. She had gone in with a series of questions about boat building and the Constitution. She'd let Jethro jump in where he wanted.
Rizzoli put the file on Lancer on the table and opened it. She took a few moments to reacquaint herself with his history. "So Mr. Lancer, I see you've lived in Boston for the last seven years. You've been a busy boy in those seven years. There's a string of arrests for larceny, DUI, and carrying without a permit. You paid a hefty fine for that offense." Jane sat back in her chair and eyed the man. "You grew up in Des Moines, Iowa. Your dad was a cabinet maker and your mom was a teacher, both are retired now. Why'd you come east?"
Lancer wasn't acting suspicious or even interested in the proceedings. Gibbs noticed that. "Why am I here? I haven't done anything to be arrested for. Why'd you roust me at four in the morning? I have to go to work."
"We have a problem. Someone planted a bomb on a ship, someone who knew exactly where to put it for the most bang. You worked with your father in the cabinet shop, you know wood."
Lancer just looked at Rizzoli and started to laugh. "I haven't seen the inside of a woodworking shop in probably fifteen years. I hated working with wood. It was something to do with my dad and brother but it never really interested me. Why would I put something like that on a ship? I'm probably not the nicest person you'll ever meet but a bomb on a ship, no, not me. I have nothing but respect for sailors and our country. I really am trying to get my act together. That's why I need to get to work."
Jane looked over her shoulder at Gibbs. She caught the negligible shake of the head. "We'll be right back." She motioned for Gibbs to follow her out of the door.
When she and Jethro stood in the hallway, Jane gave a sigh of exasperation. "So Superman, you want to jump in here anytime?"
Gibbs looked down the hallway at the mass of people in the squad room. "There's no need. He didn't do it. There is no trace of woodworking on his hands, no trepidation in his voice and his need to work and to straighten up his life is genuine. Cut him loose."
Jane squinted at the man before her. "You know all of this from his voice? How do you know there is no woodworking going on? Come on Gibbs."
Jethro chuckled and wondered what they taught detectives now-a-days. Tony had come to him knowing this stuff. Maybe it had been natural for him. "No…not just his voice, it's in his eyes and in his mannerisms. About the woodworking, he'd have scrapes or cuts. There'd be callouses on his hands. He's got none of those. Lance is telling the truth about not working with wood. He was nothing but sincere. He wouldn't hurt someone he respected. Those were ideals he was brought up with and before you say it, people can change, but he didn't. He wasn't selling a bill of goods in there. He meant it. Cut him loose."
Rizzoli again had underestimated the agent from D.C. "Smitty, take our suspect home. He's not our guy." She turned to Gibbs with a devious smile. "Round two?" She yelled down the hall. "Bring Jereld French to interrogation."
A patrolman yelled back to her. "You got it Detective."
She showed some respect to Gibbs. "How do you want to handle this one, and how long do we watch him?"
Gibbs leaned against the wall. "Let's get coffee and let him settle in and he'll be the guide as to what we do."
Jane nodded her agreement. "Let's get that coffee."
