Dr. Camille Saroyan, head of the Jeffersonian Institute's Forensic Division and perhaps better known as the ringleader to the circus of genius squints who worked there took a fortifying breath before swiping her security card to gain entrance into the pristine hi-tech building. Ever since Caroline had informed her yesterday that all current investigations must cease to give high priority to the murder of a federal judge, his wife and four unidentified bodies, she had dreaded having to come into the office today. This new case had all the earmarkings of a logistical nightmare and she could practically feel Deputy Director Cullen breathing down her neck already for answers and a list of suspects.
She knew her people could work well under the most intense of pressures. That particular theory had been tested and proven time and time again. The Gravedigger and Howard Epps cases came to mind and Cam couldn't help the shudder that went through her at the extremely close calls her colleagues and even herself had had. However, this felt different. When Dr. Brennan had called her the evening before with her preliminary findings; that the murders appeared ritualistic, Cam knew without a doubt that not only would the government be on their proverbial backs because a federal judge had been murdered but suddenly the case had taken a sensationalistic vein that could only throw the media into a virtual feeding frenzy once word got out. And it would get out. It always did. It would make their jobs that much more difficult.
Cam slapped on her gloves and with one more cleansing breath, she made her way down to the flurry of activity going on below her. The body Judge Simpson had already been placed in the autopsy suite, signaling, as if she didn't already know, that his body took precedence over all the others.
Just as she was about to enter the glass doors of her domain, Dr. Hodgins walked briskly up to her with a disturbed look on his face. Over the years, Cam had gotten to know the forensic entomologist well and knew this particular expression that he gave her now did not bode well.
"Have you seen any of the bodies brought in yet?" He asked her with a frenetic note to his voice.
"I barely had time to digest my first cup of coffee." She replied caustically.
"So I take that as a "no". You really need to see this then." He told her as he nodded towards the main room of the lab where most of the bodies had been laid out the night before. "Trust me." He finished with a knowing glance.
"This had better be good." Cam muttered following Hodgins down the stairs.
"It is." Hodgins paused for a beat as they made their descent down the stairs and turned back to look at her. "You…ah…didn't have anything to eat besides that coffee, did you?"
"No." Cam stated warily. "I am sure whatever you have to show me Dr. Hodgins is nothing I haven't seen before."
"You may want to change your opinion after you see what I have to show you." He added cryptically.
Hodgins watched Cam with a look of ghoulish anticipation as he waited for her reaction to the first body he showed her.
Cam noted the deep slit in the body's abdomen. Pushing aside the loose tissue, she realized that the organs beneath had been removed. "She was disemboweled?" She asked with a horrified look at Hodgins.
"Yup." He said popping his 'p". "And that's not all. This man over here…we're calling him the knight by the way" – he added forcing her attention to the next body. "Well he has some very interesting marks on the back of his body. If you would just…" He signaled with his finger a turning motion as he grasped the body by the shoulders. Together they turned the man over exposing a series of equally spaced puncture wounds covering the whole underside of the body.
"What on earth?" Cam was perplexed. This was something she had never seen before.
"That's what I said. Ange is working on a possible cause for these injuries as well as composite sketches of the victims that actually have heads. If you look closely the punctures are equally spaced…down to the centimeter."
Cam ran her fingers over the wounds. "They don't appear to be all that deep. I doubt this would have killed him…why the knight?" she asked as an afterthought.
"It was Dr. Brennan who sort of came up with it. She said the way he was found was consistent of an effigy of a knight that died in battle. It just sort of stuck…pardon the pun." He added sheepishly unsuccessfully hiding his sudden one sided smirk.
"And you said all the bodies that had heads? Do we actually have one without one?" Cam sighed. She hated the headless ones. Without a head, you had no face and without a face then you had no identity.
"He's in the far right corner. Dr. Brennan estimated he is young…perhaps 23 years old. Dead approximately a week to ten days. Dr. B deferred to you on that one. He's a little to uh…juicy for her."
Cam ignored his last statement, used to his somewhat disturbed sense of humor. "Speaking of Dr. Brennan, where is she?"
"Last I heard she was with Booth checking out Judge Simpson's residence."
"And her intern? I don't see him here." Cam said looking around trying to locate the young wheelchair bound man.
"He uh had a doctor appointment. Something about being fitted for a new wheelchair."
"Wonderful. Of all the days to be operating with less than full capacity. Well Dr. Hodgins, it looks like we have our work cut out for us."
BBBBB
Armed with large high octane coffees, it was early when they started on their drive to the affluent neighborhood Walker Chapel in Arlington Virginia. Brennan gave a sideways glance to her partner noting his unusual quiet. It wasn't a still quiet however. Over the years she had become so in tuned to Booth's body language and the muscle tick in his jaw and the tense hunch of his shoulders told her that this was the calm before the storm. He may seem still but there was much going on beneath the surface.
"You are unusually silent." She finally said when she could bear no more. The fingers that he had entwined with hers gave a little squeeze.
Booth didn't know how to describe his underlying feelings of anxiousness. Remnants of last night's nightmare still hovered over him like a black cloud and every now and again he would need to physically shake himself back into reality. Bones was here, she was safe beside him where she should always be. He should have known that Bones would pick up on his mood and he sought to reassure her.
"It's nothing. I just hate these serial killer cases." And dam it, if it wasn't that seventh grave, the empty one that taunted him.
"It's a perfectly natural reaction." She said logically. "But we will catch him, we always do." She added confidently.
"Yeah, we do." He agreed. Which got him thinking about other things. "Hey Bones, I think once this case is over we should come clean."
"Come clean? I wasn't aware we were dirty."
He chuckled, some of his earlier tension leaving him. "You know. Come clean…about this." He lifted his hand that was laced with hers. "about us."
"Oh" She said realizing that he was not being literal. "You want to tell everybody we are having a sexual relationship."
Booth blushed a little uncomfortable with her clinical verbiage of what he would call the most satisfying relationship he has ever had. But this was Bones. "Well yeah. I mean I hate lying to our friends…sneaking around like teenagers that have been out past curfew. Don't you?"
"Well yes, Booth. You know I am not a very good liar. You were the one that wanted to keep our relationship a secret."
"Just until we could prove our success rate as partners was not compromised by our relationship so they couldn't break us apart. But with this case…since Cullen has personally involved himself with it…well when we do solve it…he should have no qualms over allowing us to stay together. I mean it's not like we haven't solved every case that was given to us since we came back right?"
"That is true." She mused. "However, being that I like to be prepared for every possible outcome, I do have a contingency plan." Brennan informed him. "Just in case."
"Contingency plan?" He questioned, glancing at her.
She could have kicked herself for saying anything about it. Booth didn't need to know of her alternate plans…well not yet anyway. How could she tell him that she had no intention of continuing her relationship with the FBI if he wasn't part of it. It would make him feel guilty and she couldn't lay that at his feet. Not unless there was a reason to.
"Never mind." She said instead. "We're here." Brennan pointed to the large brick colonial mansion separated from the street by a tall wrought iron gate.
Booth let out a low whistle from between his teeth as he took in the sight of the large dwelling before him. "Looks like I chose the wrong government profession. Would you look at this place?"
"Don't be ridiculous Booth. You chose the absolute right profession for you." Brennan said stepping out of the SUV. "His government paycheck would not cover this, by the way. I would place an educated guess that much of his wealth comes from an inheritance or well placed investments. Speaking of inheritance…who benefits from the Judge's death?"
"His kids." Booth said he came up beside her, fitting his hand at the usual place against the small of her back. "I have a meeting with them later. They don't know yet. I have to tell them."
"I'm sorry Booth. I know you hate that part of your job."
Booth shrugged. "Catching the bad guys makes up for it."
The buzzing of lawnmowers and barking of dogs seemed to be the only noises disturbing the quiet neighborhood and the only clue that anything was amiss were the bevy of government issue vehicles that took up every inch of Judge Simpson's circular drive.
When Booth and Brennan entered the opulent home of Judge Simpson and his wife, a whole FBI team were already there scouring the mansion for any signs of foul play or motive for the judge and his wife's untimely demise.
"The place looks clean. No sign of forced entry or a struggle anywhere and the security system hasn't been breached in anyway." One of the techs informed the duo as they made their way past the entry way foyer.
"Thanks. We'll just take another look around." Booth told him. These guys were good, Booth was confident of that but he also knew they would be looking for different things than he and Bones would be looking for.
They found what they were looking for in the Judge's office. Booth glanced around the dark room taking note of the extensive library of law books while Brennan secretly envied the dark mahogany desk and the brown leather sofa.
Brennan moved towards the desk watching the reflection of a small circular light blinking on the wood. Edging closer, she realized that the computer was on.
"Booth." She called out to him. "The computer is on."
Booth turned to her just as she was about to press the button to turn the computer monitor on.
"Bones! NO!" He called out to her as he ran and tackled her to the ground his body covering hers, bracing for an explosion. It was only until he realized none was forthcoming did he lift up his head to stare into the very surprised face of Bones. Actually, she was looking at him like he had gone crazy.
"Are you okay? I didn't hurt you did I?" He asked as he helped her stand up.
"I'll live." She mumbled trying to smooth out the creases in her blouse before turning angrily to him. "What the hell did you do that for?"
Booth, who was still recovering from his initial panic, answered back just as angrily. "How many times do I have to tell you not to touch any electronic equipment at a crime scene? It could have been rigged to explode for all you knew."
"That's a completely illogical assumption Booth. We have had no evidence so far that even suggests the use of explosives. Besides, there have been agents all over this place before we even got here. I am sure if there were any explosive devices they would have already been discovered."
"Now, who is making assumptions?" He asked frustrated. "With all the agents in here, you were the one that discovered the computer was on. What does that tell you?"
"That I am extremely observant." She answered matter of factly.
One of the agents, who had heard the commotion when Booth and Brennan hit the floor came running in.
"Is everything okay in here? I thought I heard a crash."
Yeah genius, Booth thought in his head. "We're fine." He said out loud "but you might want to have one the IT guys check out the computer. It has been on for who knows how long."
The agent took at look at the screen. "It's password protected." He said with a frown after hitting some keystrokes. "We'll take it with us and see if we can hack into it and find anything on the hard drive."
"Actually, I'd feel much better if Angela took a look at it." Brennan told Booth.
Booth was inclined to agree , all things considering. "Okay, Agent. You heard my partner. Pack it up and deliver it to the Jeffersonian."
"But sir." The young agent started to argue.
"Are you questioning me, agent?"
"Uh…no sir. Not at all. Jeffersonian. Right." He stammered nervously before quitting the room.
Brennan sidled over to Booth and whispered huskily in his ear. "I don't know if I am appalled or switched on by your intimidating use of your authority."
"That's turned on Bones." He stated automatically before a slight pink hue tinged his cheeks when he realized what exactly she was saying.
BBBBB
Booth dropped Bones of at the Jeffersonian before he headed to the Hoover building where Judge Simpson's adult children would be waiting for him. Bones had been correct, he hated this part of his job but integrity dictated that he couldn't fend it off to someone else. However, he had been surprised that Cullen hadn't intervened to tell them personally.
Upon first glance at Caroline and Andrew Simpson, Booth realized several things; the first being that these two did not have a close relationship at all. Caroline Simpson, an assistant DA in New York, sat with her legs crossed away from her brother, hands clasped tensely in her lap. Andrew Simpson, a detective with the Baltimore PD, on the other hand sat ram rod straight; his arms resting stiffly on the sides of the chair. The second item of interest that Booth noted was they did not look surprised to be there.
"Thank you for getting here so quickly." Booth stated, dropping the case file on his desk.
"One doesn't usually ignore a request from the F.B.I." Caroline Simpson stated, pushing her long blonde hair away from her face.
"Well, there is that." Booth agreed with a tight smile.
"It's obvious we weren't summoned here for anything good." Andrew prodded.
Booth lost his smile and looked at the two of them directly. "No. I am sorry to have to inform you that your parents were found murdered."
Caroline Simpson covered a shocked gasp with her hand while Andrew Simpson showed virtually no reaction at all with the exception of a muscle ticking in his jaw.
"What happened?" The brother asked.
"The case is under investigation so obviously I can't tell you much. It seems that the actual murder occurred about 6 months ago."
"That's impossible." Caroline said leaning forward in her chair.
"Ma'am?" Booth questioned.
"They went to Europe. I got emails. My mother…she has…she had" she amended painfully with a sad smile. "She had terminal cancer. She had always wanted to do a tour of Europe so my father booked a trip for them to go before…" her voice trailed off painfully.
Booth handed her the box of tissues he always kept on his desk for this type of situation. He noticed the brother start to reach out to his sister in compassion but his hand stopped midway. Okay, so this guy wasn't completely unemotional, Booth thought.
"I'm sorry Ms. Simpson but there must be some mistake. Our forensic team is the best and there is no way they could have misjudged time of death. Do you still have these emails?"
"I may have deleted them. I'll have to check."
Booth turned to Andrew, who up until now hadn't said much. Booth's gut said something was not entirely right. There was something really deep going on here and he wanted to get to the bottom of it.
"Mr. Simpson. Do you know of anyone that would want to murder your parents?"
"My father was a federal judge, Agent Booth. I am sure he made many enemies over the years. Why don't you check his criminal case files?"
"We have people working that angle already. I was hoping maybe you could give me something I wont be able to find in those files." Booth felt his patience with this guy steadily slipping away.
"I have not seen nor spoken with my father since I left home when I was 18. I wouldn't know a damn thing."
Bingo! Booth thought. There is something here. "Did you have a falling out?"
Andrew Simpson's face twisted into a pained grimace before retreating back to his former stoic expression. "Let's just say that despite the Judge Simpson everyone else saw, living with him wasn't the easiest thing in the world. So I left. Now if you are going to ask me if I had reason enough to kill him? Well maybe I did but that doesn't mean I would kill my mother too."
"You don't mean that, Andrew." Caroline finally spoke directly to her brother. Her eyes looked haunted. "He didn't mean that Agent Booth." She pleaded.
"Yes, I did. You know I did. But it doesn't matter. I didn't kill him. No matter what twisted things he had done over the years, I didn't kill him. That's why I left…so I wouldn't be tempted."
Booth contemplated this and mulled it over in his mind for a few moments. He couldn't put his finger on it but he believed him. Hadn't he, himself thought about what he wanted to do to his own father for the abuse he subjected him to? But Booth knew those were just musings. He was too honorable to ever actually do it. He had a deep sense that this Andrew Simpson…this cop was the same way. Besides it wouldn't explain the other dead bodies.
After a few more questions, he let them go with the knowledge that he may need to bring them in for further questioning. He also made Caroline Simpson promise to show him her emails. Maybe Angela would be able to find something they could use.