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Interrogation Room

The man looked around the room, nervously wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. He wished they'd hurry up and get in there instead of keeping him waiting. The longer they made him wait, the more he he talked himself into being angry at the fact that they were making him wait. And when the door finally flung open, his mouth opened and venom spewed.

"You have no right to keep me here! You made me wait for hours, that has to be against the law! That's unlawful imprisonment and your agent behind the freaking glass is looking at assult! Now just who in the hell do you think you are?!"

Gibbs growling presence had the man falling back into his chair, his eyes wide, his ranting turned to stutters.

"Sit down and shut up!" Gibbs barked, his face inches from the perp's. "Let's get one thing clear. The only reason your still breathing is because that agent behind the glass found you and I didn't."

The perp's stuttering turned to silence as Gibbs, turned and left. McGee sat down in front of him.

"I'm Agent McGee, that's Officer David." Tim said. "Right now, there are agents at your house. They are searching through your cupboards and your drawers. Your carpets being torn up, you walls are being demolished and your furniture is being shredded."

Ziva stepped closer to the table. "They're collecting papers, bills, trash and anything else that they think will help our case. And don't think for a minute that they won't find something, because they will. They always do. So why don't we start at the beginning and you tell us the truth. What is your name?"

The man looked up, turning his attention from Tim to Ziva.

"Edward Glass. My name is Edward Glass."

"Edward Glass?" Tim said, a brow rose in disbeleif. "You sure about that?"

Mr. Glass scowled at the agent. "Of course I'm sure. What kind of question is that? Now why am I here, Agent McGee?"

Tim looked up at him like he'd lost his mind. "Well, lets think about that....you broke into a hotel room and basically set up camp. And then, you made it worse by running from a federal officer."

"And hit him.." Ziva interrupted. "with your fist."

Edward gave a small smile and shook his head. "It was just a misunderstanding. I mean....he was pointing a gun at me and I didn't realize he was an officer until we were out on the streets."

"You mean when you hit him?" Ziva asked, cutting in. "With your fist?"

"No, Officer David." Glass responded, taking a small sip of the water. "After that."

"Well...we'll get to that, Mr. Glass." Tim said. "For now, though, why don't you tell me what happened back in Florida?"

Edward's eyes betrayed nothing as he looked at the agent before him.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Agent McGee." He said, with a smile. "You must have me confused with someone else."

McGee quirked a brow. "Really? So......this isn't you?"

Tim slid the mug shot that he and Abby had found forward. Glass lifted the picture in his hand, bringing it closer to his face for a good look.

"I'll admit...he looks like me, but..." Glass said, handing the photo back to Tim. "That's not me."

Ziva bent forward over Edward's shoulder to take a look at the photograph.

"It is eerily similar, yes?" She asked, looking sideways at him. "Are you sure it is not you? A twin brother, perhaps?"

"I'm an only child, Officer David." Edward said.

"Then it must be you." Ziva responded. "He looks like you."

"I assure you....it is not me." Glass said. "This is a mug shot and I've never been arrested. Well, until today, that is."

"Oh, we know." McGee said. "We checked your record. It couldn't be you anyway."

Glass couldn't keep the surprise out of his eyes at that. "He couldn't? Why not?"

McGee gave the man a small shrug. "Well, this guy is parked in a cemetery, six feet under. It's just weird...him looking like you and all..."

Edward smiled and gave a small shrug. "Well, like you said...the man's dead. I'm still breathing."

"Not for long." Ziva muttered under her breath.

Glass turned back to Ziva. "What was that, Officer David?"

Ziva glanced up. "I said, I guess we were wrong."

"You are." Edward said, giving Ziva another small smile. "The man in the photograph is not me."

As Ziva moved across the room to stand beside the table, Tim looked at Mr. Glass.

"What were you doing at the hotel, Mr. Glass?" he asked.

Mr. Glass lifted his eyes to Tim's and gave him a sly smile.

"I was hoping to get an autograph."

Ziva rose a brow at him. "You came to the hotel to get an autograph. When you went up to the room, you knocked and announced yourself. When no one answered, you decided to break in, wait in the bedroom...and all for a little tiny autograph?"

"Actually," Glass countered. "The door was already open."

Ziva planted both her hands on the table, leaning forward to look in his eye.

"You knew no one was in the room." She said. "Why did you go in anyway?"

"I was concerned." Glass replied. "I'd heard about the trouble Mrs. Cena had been having and I wanted to make sure she was okay."

"But she wasn't there." Ziva said. "So why did you stay?"

"I knew she'd be back," Glass said, a small smile lighting his face. "So I decided to wait."

"What time did you arrive at the hotel?" McGee asked.

"About eleven o'clock."

Tim turned to Ziva. "When did Agent DiNozzo arrive with Mrs. Cena?"

Ziva met Tim's eyes. "Right before 1:00 pm. Mrs. Cena said he was complaining about the traffic."

McGee gave a small smile, the statement sounding like the senior field agent. A second after it appeared, the smile disappeared and McGee turned back to Glass.

"That's a lot of time to wait." he stated.

"You said you knew Mrs. Cena was coming back." Ziva asked before Edward could respond. "How?"

"Her bags were still there." Edward said.

"She could have sent someone to pick up her bags later on." Ziva suggested.

"She wouldn't do that." Glass replied.

"How do you know that?" Ziva asked.

"If you knew anything about Sienna, Officer David..." Glass said. "You'd know that she doesn't let people touch her things."

McGee tilted his head. "And you know all about her....don't you?"

"Of course." Edward Glass smiled. "I'm a fan."

"So you said." Tim replied, before giving a shake of his head. "I'm sorry....I just can't get that photo out of my head."

McGee slid the photo of the look-a-like in front of Mr. Glass once again.

"Are you absolutely positively sure that this isn't you?" He asked.

"Yes, Agent McGee." Glass said through gritted teeth. "Like I said before....it's not me."

"It's just uncanny." McGee pressed. "The resemblance, I mean."

Glass ignored him and looked up at Ziva.

"I'm supposed to get a phone call." Ed stated. "When do I get my phone call?"

Ziva ignored the man and looked at the mug shot in McGee's hand. "It does look like him, doesn't it?"

"The phone call..." Glass tried again.

Again, both agents ignored him.

"It really does." McGee said.

"But, it couldn't be, right?" Ziva asked. "I mean, it would require a very intelligent and detailed plan to fake a death. The man in this photo does not look smart enough to pull it off."

"Excuse me...Agent McGee..." Glass tried to interrupt.

Tim hid a smile, knowing that he and Ziva were beginning to agitate the man. Ignoring him for a second time, McGee looked down at the picture in his hands, then back up at Ziva as she spoke.

"Maybe he had help." Ziva suggested.

Tim shook his head. "I wouldn't count on it. When the news spread about what he had done.....anyone who claimed to be his friend suddenly left town. The only one who stuck around was his wife."

McGee paused and shook his head. "The man's resting comfortably under six feet of dirt and the poor woman is stuck here, serving a life sentence for her part in their crime spree."

At that, Glass frowned. McGee and Ziva pretended not to notice and continued their conversation.

Ziva tilted her head, looking up at Tim questioningly. "What did they do again?"

"It's actually a great story." Tim said as he leaned forward. "Their illegal operation ran for over ten years. They weren't the head boss, but they were involved in every aspect of the entire operation. Engineering, Distribution...even selling. And when the time came, they even ......."

"HEY!"

McGee's words were cut off by a shout. Both he and Ziva lifted their heads and looked at Mr. Glass. The smile was gone and in its place was an irritated frown.

"I want my damn phone call!" Glass snapped.

Tim looked at him for a moment, before closing the folder and getting to his feet. As he and Ziva walked out the door, he answered the man's request.

"I'll get right on that, Mr. Glass."