Disclaimer: Wait! Maybe…I think…nope…still nothin'.
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5
Back at the lab, without even a detour to his townhouse, he met with Greg in DNA. With a weary soul and his patience wearing thin, he simply wanted answers. Greg tried to regale him with a story about his Papa Oloff, but he quickly cut him short and Greg finally gave him a key piece of evidence. Their killer used Rogaine and took Propecia.
When he walked out of the lab, feeling his bones and muscles ache with every step, he was met by Catherine, "Ah, the Prodigal CSI returns. Get any sleep?"
"Not yet." Even he could see the huge bags under his eyes.
"So, uh, Brass had to let Dr. Tripton go, the old sex alibi. Too bad he didn't leave a toe print on a scalpel blade."
"You got a take on him?"
"Balloon-head, but credible. Like most adulterers."
"Is he going bald?"
"Not really."
"Gray hair?"
"No."
"Anything else?"
"He's a lefty?"
With that, he headed to Doc Robbins feeling like he was headed nowhere.
The dismembered body of Michael Clark was spread out on the table in the morgue and Doc Robbins explained, "Keep in mind this is just a theory. It's a hot-button issue between forensic pathologists."
"What's the consensus?"
"Well, Doctors say it's impossible to prove handedness based on the wounds inflicted on the victim."
"Forget hard science. What's your hypothesis?"
"Based on micro-incisions and hesitation marks, the victim was lying face-up when he was killed. Take a look at the right knee. The cut on the cartilage of the right distal femur has slight angulations from the, uh, left distal to the right proximal which suggests the killer was left-handed. This angulation is consistent with cuts made to the assitabulam and to the wrist. But bear in mind it's not gonna be admissible in court."
"I don't care about court. My mind's on a left-handed, Propecia using surgeon who's probably on staff at Desert Palm."
After sending Greg to the hospital to find their guy, he was finally sitting in the interrogation room with the man he was sure killed Debbie Marlin and Michael Clark. The only problem was he knew he couldn't prove it. But his body and mind had given out to exhaustion long ago. So, for the first time in a very long time, he laid out all his cards on the table in front of a killer he knew would walk away Scott-free.
So there the Doctor sat, very smug, "There was no need for the light show. All you had to do was ask."
Brass handled the questioning, "Good. Since we're being completely honest, are you losing your hair?"
"I'm a 48 year-old man. I'm not unique."
With the evidence in hand, he said, "Your hair is, though. We found it at the crime scene. Minoxidil absorbs infrared light."
"I take Rogaine and Propecia. Again, not unique."
Brass didn't waste any time, "Well, we think that Debbie Marlin and Michael Clark were killed by a surgeon who's left-handed. And we know of two left-handed surgeons at Desert Palm, Dr. Tripton, who has an alibi, and you."
"Well, if you're gonna make accusations you should really do your homework. Howard and I are the only lefties on staff. Dr. Randolph, who has privileges at the hospital, he's also a lefty. We play tennis every Wednesday. He's got a heck of a backhand. If you want me to name more names I could, but, you don't want me to do your job for you."
It was his lawyer that intercepted then, "Gentlemen, we're here as a courtesy, so if you're quite through wasting our time, I think that the Doctor would like to get back to the business of saving lives…"
Brass interrupted, "Not so fast. Is this a link from the bracelet you gave Debbie?"
He put on his glasses and inspected the butterfly inside the plastic evidence bag. "Well, it looks like it. Where's the rest of it?"
Brass continued, "This link was vacuumed from the floor of the spare bedroom after the murder. The other link was in the jewelry box. The funny thing is that all the bracelets from the other guys she slept with are in tact."
"Well, all I can tell you is that, when I gave it to her, it was in one piece."
After his client whispered something in his ear, the lawyer asked, "Do you have any other evidence?"
With a weary voice, he answered, "No, we don't."
Brass egged him on, "We might not have any other evidence, but we have a theory."
His lawyer tried to end it once again, "That's not admissible in court."
"No, no, no, it's worth a listen."
Brass got right in his face, "We think you killed Debbie Marlin because she rejected you and Michael Clark paid the price." The Doctor just shook his head.
His lawyer, wrapping it up for good this time, "Thank you for your time and your theories. But you said it yourself; you don't have a case. Doctor?"
They both rose to leave, be he couldn't just let him walk away. He had to let him know just how much he wasn't hiding, "It's sad isn't it Doc, guys like us? Couple of middle-aged men who allowed their work to consume their lives. The only time we ever touch other people is when we're wearing our latex gloves. We wake up one day and realize that, for 50 years, we haven't really lived at all. Then, all the sudden, we get a second chance. Somebody young and beautiful shows up, somebody…we could care about. She offers us a new life, with her. But we have a big decision to make, right? Because we have to risk everything we've worked for in order to have her. I couldn't do it. But you did. You risked it all. And she showed you a wonderful life, didn't she? But then she took it away and gave it to somebody else, and you were lost. So you took her life. You killed them both and now you have nothing."
"I'm still here."
"Are you?"