A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. This was one of those chapters that was quite difficult to write, so let me know what you think. Apologies for the slow update, I'm just so busy with real life at the moment that I'm too tired in the evenings to write. School finishes in two weeks, so hopefully things will slow down now!

Chapter 8 – Look, A Little Closer

The body block had already been put in place, pushing the chest up and causing the arms and neck to fall backwards. The scalpel scored along the skin, cutting from the top of each shoulder down to the breastbone. Gravity provided the only form of blood pressure, the bleeding from the cuts minimal. The blood was bright red and telling, the slow flow like lava as it began to creep away from the cut across arctic skin. A Stryker saw whirred, a cloud of dust flying free as it hit bone. Once the chest plate was lifted a clear view of the heart and lungs could be had. There they were, lifeless, unbeating. Matter.

With careful fingers, the pericardial sac was opened and blood removed from the pulmonary veins, no clot found in the arteries. The heart was removed and passed to another pair of hands to be weighed as the man that had once stood in the very room in which he now lay was viewed from the inside out.

Sid stood back, knowing he needed to proceed no further. Cause of death was evident; only a few more minor details would need fixing before the body could be reconstituted and eventually laid to rest.

"Cause of death," Sid said to Sam as he noted the weight of the heart. "Is carbon monoxide poisoning or cyanide poisoning. I am one of the genetically unable who cannot detect the smell or cyanide. The pink lividity and bright red blood give it away quite well." He looked in awe upon the body, his gaze unmistakable. Even in death the human body could say so much, and sometimes so simply.

His eyes moved to the body on the adjacent table, this one a female, only twenty-two years old. Her blonde hair was splayed about her head, her face pretty even in death in life she would have been beautiful. Sid pulled down the sheet that was concealing her, exposing her arm. Feint marks were there, consistent with injection sites. Just like Taylor Raimo.

Unlike Taylor Raimo they hadn't had any savage acts forced upon them. Their eyes were open, misted over, no longer needing to see the physical world. He hoped that wherever their souls had move onto they were having pleasant dreams.

"You think they're connected with the college victims?" Sam said, the first time words had emerged from him for over an hour.

Sid shrugged. "That's not up for us to decide. There are similarities, but coincidences do happen." He unclipped his glasses and put them back round his neck, hearing familiar footsteps enter the room. "Detectives," he said, turning to look at Flack and Angell who had found their way down to his lair. "What can I do for you?"

"We're here about these two. Officer Mare was one of mine," Flack said, his voice still and cool, yet underneath the composure it bubbled. Sid saw the anger and despair. He'd known when he began who the male victim was, but had never met him. Mare had been transferred over from New Jersey a couple of months ago and had had no reason to make an appearance in the coroner's office. The death of an officer was taken badly; no matter how long you had known them or what you thought of them. It was one of your own.

"The girl is Marlie Pearson. She was meant to meet Mac yesterday and never turned up, although she had allegedly spoken with Professor Reyes at nine am yesterday to say she was on her way," Angell said. Sid regarded her and the way she stood with Flack, slightly too far into each other's personal space. He had seen it coming for some time – the glances, the half smiles, the standing a little too close to each other. It would be good for them both, he knew. This job could be a lonely one and having someone who understood it would make it less so.

Sid had known Marlie's name already; she'd come in identified, unlike many other bodies that found their way onto his table. He cast her a glance, hoping that her soul was on its way to a better place than the last. Then he gave his concentration to the detectives. "Cause of death for both them is poisoning. There are no knife or bullet wounds but they both have injection markings. Interestingly, I suspect they both have different times of death. I would place money if I were a betting man, on Officer Mare being the first victim, although stomach contents will tell me more." He smiled briefly at Sam who was on his way to tox now, taking several vials that had been extracted from Mare. "I deduce they were sedated with the choral hydrate and then gassed."

"The car was free of any carbon monoxide," Flack said. "First thing Stella did was test for it."

"Can any of you smell anything unusual?" Sid said, unclipping his glasses from around his neck and putting them on properly, watching as both detectives began to sniff the air like bloodhounds sniffing for their prey.

"I can smell something strange and bitter," Angell said, looking as if she suddenly remembered something important. "It was cyanide poisoning, wasn't it? I can smell almonds." Flack looked at her, slightly incredulous. She shrugged. "It's genetic. Only a very small percentage of the population can detect the smell, and it's generally women. Funnily enough, my father can detect it also, but my mother can't. Sunday afternoons were always fun at our house – my father seemed to want to entertain us with weird and wonderful facts from an early age." She rolled her eyes.

Sid nodded. "Your genetic code helps here. I can't smell cyanide, and neither can Sam. This confirms it. Had been carbon monoxide poisoning you wouldn't have smelt anything, except Flack's aftershave." he said. "I'm running tests on the internal organs to confirm. As soon as you've gone I will continue their removal." He smiled at Flack. He wasn't a lover of autopsies, and generally left as soon as he had the information he needed. Angell faired somewhat better, but he doubted that even she wished to see the intricacies of what he was about to do.

To Sid's surprise, Flack began to move closer to Mare, his eyes scanning the uncovered flesh . "Have you found any strange markings on Goddard, Raimo or these two?" he said, his eyes looking over Mare's torso.

"Only what's been logged in the autopsy report," Sid said, his own eyes beginning to glance over flesh whose stories he'd already memorised.

"Tattoos – specifically numbers," Flack mumbled, unsure himself of the thoughts that were clearly prompting him. Sid moved closer to Mare, his hand travelling up to his head. The officer's hair had been relatively long and thick, needing a trim. Mare had been suffering depression since his divorce and his appearance had been neglected.

"What are you thinking, Flack?" Angell asked, remaining standing in the same place, her eyes watching every move Flack was making.

"Our prime suspect – only suspect – was a specialist in Holocaust Litigation. Jews were gassed in the concentration camps with Zyklon B," Flack moved his head down towards Sid's, staring at Mare's scalp through the thick hair. "History was one subject I actually enjoyed."

"And I don't suppose the teacher was female and hot?" Angell said with some sarcasm.

"I asked for extra tutoring," Flack said, looking up at her with a grin.

"Zyklon B," Sid continued for him. "Was hydrogen cyanide. It prevents cellular respiration. Death occurs within a few minutes when there's approximately 300mg per metre cubed in air. The Nazis are the most famous users of it." The morgue fell below its usual level of quiet. None of those in the room liked what they were hearing.

"Look," Sid said, breaking the iced silence. He moved the light so it beamed on the right side of Mare's skull, parting hair, and finding a tiny bald spot and a number tattooed on it, the scabs blurring what had been scribed.

"One hundred and forty two," Flack said after a few seconds of working it out. He looked up at Sid. "And it looks very fresh. Any chance you can check on the others for these?"

Sid nodded. "Goddard and Raimo definitely did not have them. Goddard was almost bald – it would have been noticeable. Raimo had recently had his hair shaved very short, so again, we would have seen it almost immediately. Maybe we'll find a similar marking on Marlie." He strode over to the table next to Mare where Marlie lay, deft fingers searching through her hair. He found it almost in the same position, only the hair wasn't shaved and the tattoo was less recent. A lot less recent. "She's number fifteen," he said. "What made you think of checking scalps?" he looked at Flack.

"Two weeks ago I had a thug in a cell who had numbers tattooed all over his head. Elior Rostow had a Nazi tattoo on his forearm. It was a hunch," Flack shrugged, looking up at the door as Mac stood there.

Mac's expression was deadly serious, his eyes were alert to any movement and Sid could sense the soldier in him returning as a mission was laid in front of him.

A faint light from the half open door made him look almost shadow-like as he remained still. His voice broke the morgue's silence, shattering it. "Paul Murphy's missing."

-£-

It didn't matter if there were any other people in the lab at the time or not, or whether a massive catastrophe was occurring outside, or even if every single one of the Suicide Girls had walked into the room; Adam did not do distraction when he was onto something. Rather like a dog with a bone, he did not let go, and this bone was proving very juicy indeed.

He replayed the ten second slot taken from a surveillance camera just outside the back entrance to the Penny Black bar two blocks away from D'Agostino Hall. Manipulating the screen, he zoomed in on the face of the man who had just walked out, looking rather stupefied and lost. His pupils were dilated and he stumbled slightly, a state that many of his colleagues had seen him in during recent weeks. Officer Mare had left Lindsay, and like Flack had predicted, had found a bar and begun to drown his sorrows. Adam pressed play and continued to watch the scene. A dark haired girl came out of the same door, placed a hand on his shoulder and mouthed words at him, words which Adam could not make out as her hand obscured her mouth, as if she was aware that the camera was watching her. Mare placed his arm around her waste and she helped him to walk out of the camera's sight. Eleven-thirty pm, two days ago. No one had seen him since, not until his body had been discovered by another cop, sat in a car next to a pretty girl.

Adam pressed print and black and white stills of Mare and the girl from the bar peeled off the printer, the noise of it alerting Stella who came over from her station.

"What've you got?" she said, craning her neck to see.

Adam felt himself run hot, her closeness making his breathing shallower. He still retained his teenage awkwardness, and knowing it only made him feel even more awkward. "Mare left the Penny Black bar at eleven-thirty with a red head. He looks as if he was either very drunk or someone had slipped him something." He passed Stella the picture, needing to take a step away.

"How did you manage to get through the footage so quickly?" Stella said, the note of amazement in her voice making him feel proud of himself, forgetting the awkwardness for a second.

"I looked at the map and the bars that were near to the place where he left Lindsay. Two had offers on Guinness and I knew that was what Officer Mare drank, so I checked those first. It didn't take long," he said. Stella said nothing, her eyes staring at the picture.

"I recognise her," she said. "She walked passed Brian Goddard's house while I was there, only her hair was fair… Adam – can you get me a close up of her?" Stella pulled a chair up to his desk while he leant over; tapping rapidly into the computer and making a clear shot of the girl appear on screen in seconds. "This is her. I heard noises from downstairs – I found no one in the house and when I looked out, she was walking passed!" Her expression showed that she was mentally kicking herself. "I thought she was just a passer-by. Damn!"

"You weren't to know, Stella," Adam said, for some reason feeling guilty. "It could just have been someone walking passed – not everyone's a criminal." Although sometimes he wondered otherwise.

Stella shrugged, still clearly annoyed with herself. "Can you run her face through the database and see if we get a match?" she said

Adam rapidly clicked a few keys and after a moment the screen began to flick through images. He and Stella watched in a pregnant silence, their eyes fixated on the monitor, waiting for its results.

No match found.

The anticipation turned into disappointment.

"Back to square one," Stella said, picking up the picture and walking to the door. "I'll go find Mac and pass this on. We might be able to drum up a uniform to try and get an ID from one of the bars or the university." She sighed and looked frustrated. "I just don't know when we'll be able to get someone to go though – there are even more people off today than yesterday."

Adam thought for a moment, his nervousness changing to worried excitement. "What if I go – I know I have Goddard's computer to look at, but Kendall's already started going through the files. I don't look like an officer, people might be happy to talk to me. The bar managers were happy enough to give me footage from their security systems."

Stella nodded, her eyes showing amusement which made him feel embarrassed. "You'll need to check with Mac, but that might be an idea. If we can get an ID on her this case might start to heat up."

Adam smiled slightly. It would be nice to get out of the lab. It would give him something to tell Kendall later.

-&-

Danny sat uncomfortably at his station, laptop in front of him and an untouched glass of something nasty called 'dioralyte' next to him. His stomach gurgled ominously and he sent a threatening glare at the glass, as if it was the root of all that was evil. He should, he knew, be at home. Unfortunately, Danny did not do boredom well, and although he was sick, he wasn't sick enough to not be bored. He was confined to the lab and had been told not to get to close to anyone and then given a list of names to research.

The computer began to consume him as he began to pull up details on the fifteen people whose names had been discovered on a slip of paper hidden underneath Goddard's computer. His mind saw connections between them, found dates which coincided and three missing persons reports which alerted him and made him cold on the inside. As he looked up the final name on the list he took a swig of the repulsive drink, knowing that he would need to be well for what was about to come.

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