"Well, it does give us a motive."
"Yeah, that's right, McGee. Gives us a motive to go down to that autopsy room and pulp that man's face in, dead or not."
Tony's face was pinker than usual, his eyes brighter and deeper. McGee frowned. Emotion and sentimental feelings. Tony DiNozzo. Not words that generally connected up.
"You know what I mean, Tony."
"He's right," said Kate. "I found the boot he must've used. It was lying apart from the others." She didn't look at Tony. Looked at McGee's shoe instead. "And there was blood on their apartment wall. Chelmonski's blood. She could've done it, Tony."
Tony just sat a breathed for a few seconds.
"I know," he said quietly.
"Of course, it could've been an accident," babbled McGee. The thoughtful new Tony worried him. Happy-go-lucky DiNozzo was part of an NCIS agent's staple background. "Probably was. I expect she kicked back at him when…"
Tony stood up. Gave a bitter smile. "Forget it," he said.
"Tony, I-"
He thrust his hands in his pockets. Walked off down the orange walled corridor. "I said forget it."
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"Did you find the mother, Boss?"
"No, McGee," said Gibbs, not pausing in his stride into the bullpen. McGee threw a puzzled look over at Kate when Gibbs didn't elaborate. She shrugged. Gibbs had a reason. He always did. "That cell that Kate found. I want you to go through every number saved in it, every call ever made from it."
"Yes, Boss," said McGee, saving his disheartened look for when Gibbs turned around to rummage in a drawer.
"Kate. Do a profile on Chelmonski. Find out what the hell he was doing here. And McGee!"
"Yes, Boss?" McGee made a face as if Gibbs had just caught him doing something vaguely obscene.
"Speak to the Royal Navy."
"About what?"
Gibbs didn't answer. He left the bullpen, casting a glance at Tony's empty desk.
"I have no idea where he is," said Kate, in response to the question Gibbs hadn't asked.
He said nothing. Just walked into the open elevator, staring straight ahead as the doors closed.
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"Ah, Jethro. I was expecting you."
Jimmy goggled. "But Doctor. You haven't spoken to Agent Gibbs since we collected the body."
Gibbs looked at him.
"Sorry, sir," he faltered. "But how did you know?"
The special agent and the ME collectively ignored him. Jimmy fell into silence.
"My prognosis was wrong. Chelmonski didn't die of blunt trauma… It actually reminds me of our last director."
Dr Mallard and Gibbs winced simultaneously.
"Last director, Doctor?"
"Before your time, Mr Palmer. Our director was found with four bashes to the head, blood all over the desk. Naturally we all assumed that was the cause of death, but when it came to the autopsy, it turned out he'd been poisoned." From his tone of voice, the doctor clearly thought poisoning rather unsporting.
"Has this one been poisoned, Duck?"
"Yes. But this one was killed in quite an unusual way." Gibbs looked expectant. This always worried Jimmy slightly. It was as if a lion was patiently watching a very small mouse squeak a plea for life. The lion would have eaten the mouse, had it been a more fulfilling meal, but it wasn't, so he just lay there and watched it, slightly amused. "Nicotine overdose."
"But he didn't smoke," put in Jimmy.
"Yes, that's right, Mr Palmer." Jimmy beamed. "He didn't smoke. But such a huge overdose would've been impossible from smoking anyhow. The nicotine was extracted from several hundred cigarettes, and injected into our victim. The interesting thing is that he was unconscious at the time from this head wound, which I believe occurred earlier. I have spoken to Abigail and she matched up the blood on the wall of the room to his blood, and the shape of the wound is a match as well."
"Thanks, Duck."
"Gibbs!" Abby's face appeared in the video intercom.
Agent Gibbs strolled over to it in that slightly unnerving ever-so-fast way of his.
"Yes, Abs?"
"McGee wants to talk. I just love using this thing."
Agent McGee loomed up behind Abby, and stood there blinking worriedly.
"Yes, McGee?"
"We've been, er, running through all the phone records and the same number keeps showing up."
"Did you locate it?"
"Er, yes. It's a Navy lieutenant, Boss."
"Which Navy?"
"Ours. She's single. Got an alibi which checks out. But she and Chelmonski were-"
"Yes. I figured."
"Boss?"
"Yeah?"
"We still can't find the mother."
Gibbs nodded. "Good work McGee." The Probie's face lit up. "Have you spoken to the Royal Navy yet?"
"Well. Er. I. Not exactly. Um. No."
But Gibbs was already gone.
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"Kate."
"She laughed about it, Gibbs."
"Kate."
"Her dad hospitalised her. And she's sitting there. Laughing about it. That is so wrong."
"Kate. Did you get the discharge papers?"
"I've got them, Boss!" called McGee from across the hospital's waiting room. "Alex Chelmonska was still in our custody, so that's all the paperwork we need. But they said that she had to be under supervision."
Gibbs nodded. He stood up, headed towards the door to the ward. As he passed, he gave McGee a swat to the back of the head.
"Boss!" said the junior agent, with a facial expression like a small, fluffy kitten being trodden on. "What was that for?"
"Eavesdropping, McGee."
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"Gibbs."
"Bossman!" Abby called down the phone. "I spoke to a Royal Navy man. He said there was no urgent call for Chelmonski to come to DC. It was Chelmonski himself that arranged a last minute meeting."
"Thanks, Abbs." Gibbs flipped his phone shut. He leant against the yellowing wall of the hospital corridor. He could hear the familiar squeaking of McGee's shoes on the shiny plastic floor. "Yes, McGee."
"I just spoke with Bethesda Naval Hospital." McGee left a dramatic pause. "They say Lieutenant Sutcliffe is pregnant."
"Who?"
"Chelmonski's lady friend."
