Chapter 6: VI
Michael David's funeral was supposed to be small, but word of mouth got out and people came from all over Concord to pay their respects to a man who served their community.
"We are gathered here today to pay our respects and honor Michael David's life." The FCIS team was sitting near Mathew in the front. He was the only family there, for their parents had passed away a few years back. His face was grim as the light inside shadowed his face. He was looking at his brother's ashes, surrounded by pictures of them together, smiling laughing, enjoying the moment. Roses and other assorted flowers adorned the table where the box of ashes stood.
"We would now like to invite his brother, Mathew David to say a few words." Mathew slowly went up, trying to prolong his speech as if, once he spoke about his brother in past tense, then he would really be dead, really gone from his life. Mathew unfolded a sheet of paper he took out from his jacket. He spoke with pride about his brother, telling of his brother's greatest moments. As he was about to finish, Gibbs got a call on his cell phone. He hesitated to pick it up, got up and carefully walked outside.
"Thank you for coming here today," Mathew said finishing up. "I know my brother would have been happy to know that so many people cared about him." Gibbs walked back in as people began to slowly began to form a line to give their condolences to Mathew and say a few parting words to Michael.
"We got to go," Gibbs whispered to his team.
"Yeah. Ok. Let me just say goodbye to Mathew." Ziva said getting up. She walked over to him. "I'm sorry," She said hugging him.
"Thank you for coming," He said breathing deep.
"Anytime."
"I'm sorry too," Tony said breaking up the hug, offering his hand. Mathew and Ziva let go of each other as Mathew took Tony's hand and shook it.
"Yeah me too." McGee said. Gibbs just slapped Mathew on the back and smiled as he followed his team out.
--
"FCIS." Gibbs said to one of the policemen standing at the front of the crime scene, flashing his badge.
"Watch you step," The policeman replied pointing to the bodies near the entrance.
"Woah," Ziva said as she turned away and tried to fan clean air near her nostrils as a big whiff of decaying bodies and getting rotten pizza flooded the air.
"Wow." Tony said looking at the crime scene, carefully stepping over the bodies, holding his nose too.
"What, too much blood?' Ziva asked jokingly not mentioning the real stinky problem at hand.
"No," Tony said protecting his dignity in a nasally. "I'm just shocked that someone would actually let a perfectly good pizza go to waste." Tony said kneeling by the box.
"Tony." Gibbs said making Tony look up.
"Sorry boss. Just Hungry." Ziva laughed at the situation as McGee took photos of Tony peering into the box.
"You know Ziva, you and Mathew seem to have something going on there."
"What are you jealous?" She asked walking around the crime scene looking at the apartment.
"No. I just don't think he's your type."
"Not my type? How do you know what my type is?"
"Hey are you two going to get working or will McGee have to do it all?" Gibbs said before Tony could answer.
"Working boss." Tony replied. Ziva looked at him and slightly shook her head. He always turns it off so quick. They could be having a meaningful conversation and then all of a sudden just completely switch off and act as if nothing happened. They liked to flirt, but that was all, nothing more. Maybe that's all he wanted, she thought, the chase. Tony looked at Ziva rummaging through the victim's mail. He felt something when he saw her with Mathew, but he didn't know what it was or how to act. She was his partner for over three years and they had grown accustomed to each other. But now, something changed.
"I've seen this face before," Gibbs said coming next to Tony.
"What boss?" Tony asked snapping back from his preoccupied state.
"Nothing," Gibbs said as Palmer and Ducky walked in.
"I'm sorry we're late Jethro, but Mr. Palmer does not know how to read signs and directions." Palmer just smiled.
"Sorry," He said childishly.
"Oh, boy," Ducky said at the same time as Palmer, looking down at the bodies and holding his nose. "Mr. Palmer, now this is a bad smell and I think you need to get another gurney." Palmer ran out in a hurry glad to get away from the stench. Their arms were strewn haphazardly on the wooden floor, surrounded by a pool of blood. One was dressed in a red and blue pizza parlor uniform while the other was in a simple white cotton shirt and kaki cargo pants stained with red. Streams of blood rolled, in no particular pattern, from their head to the collection of blood below. The younger, pizza victims' eyes were closed, head on it's side, with a gun shot wound on the side of his head right above the ear, with a little blood collecting and clumping to his hair. The other, older victim, his eyes were open and crossed. Blood collected around the side of his eye, dripping to the floor as if he was crying blood. Ducky gently closed the victims' eyes and sighed as Palmer came in with another gurney. He and Palmer lifted the bodies onto the gurneys and rolled out, like a sorrowful routine. As they left, Tony looked at the blood pools.
"Hey boss," He said just as Gibbs was about to leave to check on McGee. "Look at the floor." On the floor, the was the already known blood pool, but near the door, where the bodies were laying, there were a few drops of blood and a small mark in the blood as if something was dragged through it. Tony followed the blood droplets outside the apartment only to have them stop at the mat right outside the door. With his latex covered hands, he lifted the mat and found another pool of blood, soaked into the carpet. "We got more blood boss," Tony said looking up and over his shoulder where Gibbs was standing.
"Who found the body?" Gibbs asked looking at a near by police officer. The police officer flipped through his notes.
"The neighbors complained about the smell so they called one of the mangers who opened up the apartment after the tenant didn't answer to door."
"Where's the manager now?"
"He left after one of us interviewed him. He said he had some work to do like calming down his other tenants."
"Ok. Do we have a name?"
"Sean Tagathon."
"Ok. We're going to need his full statement."
"Sure. No problem."
Back inside, Ziva was looking around the apartment. It was neat, a little too neat for a guy's apartment, she thought to herself. The DVD's were set in order. Cups, dishes and utensils were washed and put away, stacked neatly in their assigned cabinets and drawers. The bed was made, each sheet, blanket and comforter tucked away in layers, with the corners folded under with perfection. Clothes were folded neatly and placed in drawers and hung with dignity in the closet. The bathroom was clean, with a new refreshing scent of pinesol and towels were placed neatly in stacks on a shelf.
"Kind of weird isn't it?" McGee asked, "The apartment being so neat."
"I had the same feeling too. And nothing is out of place, nothing to take as evidence, not even an ID."
"Weird." McGee said as he turned around. He and Ziva entered back into the living room where Tony and Gibbs were waiting. "There's nothing boss, just like the other crime scene."
"Well then I just hope that Duck has something."
