A/N: With special 'Thank you' for Huanted Darkling and Cripple X - this chapter we posted thanks to yours comments and everyone who post this story in their alerts.
ps. thx to my Beta Inez:*

Chapter 4

Alice and Mac didn't have anything for them. Actually, they didn't really needed to strain themselves, because the offender himself already reported to them. But why Tony's gut screamed that it's a trick?
"It was unnecessary do come here, Agent Gibbs," the captain said ironically, when they returned to the office. "The case is closed".

Gibbs looked at Tony, who sat at his desk muttering something under his breath. It looked that he also didn't like it.
"Sure" Gibbs said to no one, walking to young detective's desk."And you, what do you think DiNozzo?"
Tony looked suspiciously at NCIS agent. What is it? "Surprise, surprise"? Gibbs didn't look like a man who is interested in the opinion of an inexperienced detective, and especially not one which allows others call him "Kid." He was about to say something, but he couldn't, because his unspoken words were interrupted by captain.

"DiNozzo, the case is closed and don't dispute that if you want still work here," he growled, slamming the door of his cabinet. Gibbs fixed his gaze focused on him. Tony again had this unpleasant feeling that the agent examines him through. It was like a dream in which suddenly turns out that you shine your naked butt before the entire school, and no help come from anywhere.
"Let's take a walk," offered after a moment's thought Tony. Gibbs nodded his head and walked after his guide to the autopsy room, where there were bodies of victims.
"You know that by helping us you'll lose your job?" asked Gibbs.
Tony pretended not to hear it. In fact, did he even care? Actually, he was staying in one place far too long. He had held the job mainly for Frank, who was his only decent friend. Besides, there was uncle Louie. The news of being fired rather wouldn't make him happy.

"Let's see what connects our victims" he said abruptly, approaching the first of the tables. "Alice didn't run DNA tests, and finally we have a suspect, and the unit tries lately to cut costs. So let's start from the DNA."

Gibbs agreed with him, nodding his head slightly. "Take care of it, I will contact agent Todd."

"One must have some special clearances to get into NCIS?" he asked casually. He didn't really know why he spoke, but since he heard of NCIS, it was niggling him. "Just curiosity," he added after a moment, sending Gibbs his trademark carefree smile, straight from toothpaste ads.

Amusement was clearly depicted on Gibbs face, but he said nothing. He just went out to place a phone call, with mysterious smile that could compete with a half-smile of Mona Lisa glued on his lips.
"Don't go, where you're not wanted," he muttered to himself reproachfully, leaning over the corpse. He wasn't particularly fond of such views, but at least in this case bodies were whole. Last week they got a "puffy" pulled from the water and suicide. He really couldn't understand why people decide to throw themselves under the wheels of the train, instead of something like cutting their veins or overdosing sleeping pills.

"Can I help you?" He heard behind him a well-known voice of forensic pathologist Melissa Yarrow.

"I have to get a DNA sample for Alice to test," he said, smiling in a shameless, seductive way. He was well aware of his charm, and he knew that few women were able to resist. Although Dr. Yarrow was quite a special case. It was like playing with the cat. You never know whether you're playing with it, or it with you.

Dr. Yarrow was older than him, judging by eye, about ten years. Her main job has been achieving subsequent doctorates and harassing students who unfortunately had an internship with her. Not that he was incompetent or shrewish, she was simply a person who has come to everything by herself and didn't tolerate negligence. Failure to prepare for classes ended up with throwing student out the door.
Today she was probably in frivolous, as she called it, mood. Without batting an eyelash she draw blood and injected it into the pre-labeled tubes. Tony admired her skill and her knowledge. At the beginning she treated him a bit as her student, teaching him the basics. He have often wondered why, from so many possibilities, she chose the cellar and communing with dead.

NCISDANCISDA

"Alice, how long will it take?" He asked lab tech, sending her another of his trademark, patented smiles. What he did might be not morally right, but it made his job faster and easier. He bent over Alice's arm and whispered in her ear "You have a perfect shape, you know?"

Alice just laughed. She already knew his tricks. Ideal knew what a womanizer he was, but on the other hand, it was nice to hear compliments. It improved her mood greatly, especially since in the perspective was painstaking research and analysis of evidence found at the scene.

"For you, anything," she whispered, inhaling the pleasant smell of perfume. DiNozzo was one of the few men who never bathed in the perfume and which, the only one, polished his shoes. In fact, he was probably a bit strange about it. Well, there are no perfect men. While Tony was close to ideal.
" I need a minimum of twelve hours, so find some other occupation," she advised him, giving him the eye, then withdrew and went to another machine to cool down a little. It would be so awkward, say, pass out in the presence of DiNozzo. It might go to his head.
Alice smiled at the thought, imagining the scenery of the eighteenth century ballroom, styled ladies fluttering eyelashes and sinking at the sight of Count powdered DiNozzo, paying them compliments.

"When you find something, let me know right away," he said giving her eye, then went out in quite a cheerful mood.
In the elevator Tony met Gibbs. His face was inscrutable, and it seemed that even prying it with a crowbar wouldn't do anything. He stood by and stared at the glowing numbers of floors. Nothing like dead silence, he thought. In the end of the elevator stopped, proclaiming in voice a la Tanja Russian prostitute, that they are on the ground floor. Tony has never been more grateful to her, but found the elevator voice a good joke by detective Wilson, who probably dipped his dirty fingers in the machine. Never before the elevator has voice communications and Wilson repeatedly menaced that he'll make a joke to spite Old.

"We're going to the senator," said Gibbs in quite sluggish tone. In response Tony just nodded his head, in the meantime reaching into his pocket in search of the keys to the company car.
"My car," added the agent after a moment.
Well, it solved the issue of searching for keys. Tony usually had a problem with locating them. Maybe because it was not a red Ferrari, but a well-worn, official car of Frank, soaked in nicotine, at least as if it were the cigarette factory. A ride in such conditions he always gave clothes to the laundry and took a long bath.

When they stopped at the gate leading to the estate of Senator Franklin, Tony wondered what miracle he survived the ride. In his head he had already prepared his all testament. He was on roller coaster once, never remembered this experience too fondly, but in comparison with that he preferred roller coaster.
Agent Gibbs, who, though definitely had some eye problems, drove as if he was running away from their pursuers, at least twenty hairy Hell's Angels. On the other hand, this whole Gibbs was making such an odd impression that it might be better to say that he drove as if he chased those bikers.
As he took another regulating breath, Gibbs talked with a young guardian, in not quite successful way. Well, senators estates were guarded better than many prisons. He straightened his suit and looked at his shoes. Polished Italian shoes have always made a good impression.

"You seem to be new, so I'll give you a offer you cant refuse. Make friends with Franklin" he said nonchalantly, putting one hundred U.S. dollars to the top pocket of the security guard jacket, looking at the same time like a bored rich man. "And I and my overzealous friend will talk with senator..."

"Senator doesn't …"

"You think that all meetings are entered into the schedule? We are here privately and in some hurry," Anthony interrupted, impatiently glancing at his fake Rollex, at first glance, indistinguishable. The guard watched him, still undecided whether he should let this man into the estate.

"May I see any document?" Youngster was stubborn, but there were also ways of dealing with that. Anthony smiled indulgently, as if playing with the dog, then gave him business card with only a printed name. Other than that, the card was completely white and didn't contain any other data. Surprised, the guard looked at it carefully, and then let agents into the estate without a word.
His name was often much better than any official ID.

"Do you think they will send a car for us or we just have to walk all the way?" DiNozzo asked, but Gibbs didn't answer. He just went ahead. It began to be annoying.

A few minutes later they both sat in chocolate colored, leather chairs, waiting for the appearance of the senator. Tony was sipping espresso from a cup that probably cost more than he earned in two years. It was nice to experience the luxury from time to time. Not that he really missed it, but every so often it was a nice addition.

The room was quite spacious, styled a bit as presidential office in the White House. On the wall hung old muskets and in the massive, illuminated bookcase stud bound in leather volumes, probably encyclopedias or something similar. On the other side was spacious aquarium in which swam black and white fish. Tony admittedly was fishing in the past, but doubted that it was any species known to him.

Under the window was a huge oak desk, covered with green cloth. Really good copy, said Anthony looking at ornaments, wondering in the meantime, if this whole style didn't mean that the suspect wanted presidential chair.

Senator, as required by a good custom, made them to wait about forty minutes. From staring at pendulum clock standing at the door he felt a little sick, so he treated the entrance of Senator almost enthusiastically. Franklin actually didn't pay attention to them. He sat comfortably behind his desk and lit a cigar, which he took from an elegant box standing on the desk. After a moment he looked at his "guests."

"Mr ...?"

"Agents" DiNozzo replied waving his ID in the air. "We are here about…"

"Mery Olsen, yes, I gathered. What can I say in this case. She was a friend of my daughter, from school. I sent her to the best public schools, but even there you can meet the... harmful element. Olsen hang around shady people, got exactly what she deserved. What worries me is only state of my daughter. The news of Mery death depressed her greatly.

Anthony watched the senator as carefully as Agent Gibbs. Except Uncle Louie shown him a bit the ropes of the sleazy world of politics, indeed reminding not only the mafia, but also the world's oldest profession. Senator talked a lot more than he wanted. His bad luck.

"Do you have any idea about identity of those two soldiers, whose bodies were found in Mery Olsen house?" Gibbs said, showing photos to the Senator.

"As I said, this girl was hanging different kind. I didn't know her too well, I'm a busy man. Perhaps Sara could tell you more about it, but ishe is very shaken and I don't think it is the right time to interview her .. If this is all all, someone will accompany you to the door, in a moment I have an important meeting, video conference... And by the way, how did you swayed my bodyguard?"

Anthony smiled with pride, giving the senator a white card, this time with the number written on the reverse.

"If you'll remember anything, please call. We'll find our way out" he said in perfunctory tone.

When they were behind closed doors, Anthony concluded that something stinks in this case. Gibbs walked to the exit, not paying much attention to him. Along the way, Tony heard a cry. Curious, he moved toward the open door at the end of the corridor. In the room light-haired girl, probably the daughter of Senator Franklin, was sitting on old-style sofa,.

"Sarah?" he asked to be sure.

She jumped up scared, apparently she didn't hear when he opened the door just enough to slip in.

"Who are you? I'm calling security!" she threatened with determination.

"I am a detective, from the police," he said, showing her his badge and ID. "I want to talk about Mery Olsen."

As soon as he pronounced the name, the girl burst into tears. "Mery was my friend from school... and now she's dead and it's all my fault."

"Certainly not, but can you tell me what you know about this case?"

"My father draw her into some of his business. And he paid to some guy to pretend to be her fiance, too. I didn't like it, but we couldn't do anything. So we came up with the idea that her brother, who is a military, will come here and scare this guy... All went to hell and now they are dead, because of me," she wept.

"Sarah?" Suddenly they heard senator's voice from the corridor. Tony jumped quickly and walked to the open window. It wasn't too high - if he stood on the ledge, he could jump off and grab the railing on the terrace - he assessed quickly. He looked at the girl.

"I work in the homicide department: he said, going out the window. "Call us when you are alone, but not from home. And don't tell him about this conversation."

Girl nodded, and adjusted the curtains. At that time, Tony ran along the hedge to the car. After plowing through the bushes, he nipped in the front seat, flicking small leaves off his jacket.

"What the hell was that?" Gibbs said reproachfully, as Tony just bared his teeth in a smile.