Theorizing that their serial killer may have been sloppier when he was first getting started, Gibbs and DiNozzo returned to the oldest case file in their stack.
Ella Cross. 87. Mowed down at night by a truck when she was walking home from the bus stop after winning big ($76) at bingo that night. The money was still in her purse when she was found the next morning.
It was the stuff of movies.
Crappy movies.
Crappy made-for-tv movies.
Tony had the file memorized. Including the pictures.
On occasion, he wished he could take a stiff brush to the inside of his head and scrub it clean.
For now, though, his memory of the cases was useful, eliminating the need to constantly stop and reference files.
They went in search of one Theodore Cross, Ms. Ella's grandson. He was the only suspect in the original investigation, which was later deemed a hit-and-run.
In DiNozzo's estimation, not too many hit-and-runs backed up and ran over their victim again.
Twice.
Teddy was the sole inheritor of Ms. Ella's estate, which wasn't huge, but was certainly a step up in the world for a young man who'd previously been living in a crappy apartment with three other guys, eating ramen and squabbling over toilet paper usage.
Cross claimed to have an alibi for the night of the murder, but the girlfriend he said he was with never came forward to confirm.
Plus, he seemed shifty. Tony hated shifty. The kid was definitely up to something.
Anyone who'd ever taken their detective's exam (or watched a tv crime drama) knew the basics of serial killer hunting: If there were mistakes to be found, any personal connections to the killer that could be exploited, it would either be in the earliest cases before he learned to cover his tracks, or in the latest cases if he was falling apart.
Teddy was their best bet at the early end of the spectrum.
"You talk to this kid before?" Gibbs asked as the two approached Teddy's grandmother's house.
"Not my case. Didn't know there was anything to pay attention to at the time."
Gibbs nodded and rapped on the door; a moment later it opened.
A young red-headed punk who appeared far too influenced by the dubious fashion stylings of Warren from Empire Records opened the door and squinted out at them in the harsh sun, bouncing off the snow white yard. "What?"
"Theodore Cross? Gibbs, NCIS. Have a few follow up questions to the investigation into your grandmother's death." Badges flashed.
Teddy shrugged and let them in.
DiNozzo's eyes took in the walls as he stepped into a formal living room. Some evidence of a younger inhabitant showed – the massive TV and a kiwi Game Boy Color for example – but the floral couch was still in place, and pictures of Ms. Ella with a young Teddy were still propped on the mantle.
Gibbs and Tony shared an easy look, both checking to make sure the other saw the same. The couch might've stayed because it wasn't a reminder of anything, or because it was too bulky to bother with. But the pictures were easy to shove to the side or dispose of. Either there was no guilty conscience at play here, or there was no conscience at all.
"You're not the same cops I talked to before," Teddy stated rudely, as he dropped to the couch without offering his guests a seat.
"Ms. Ella didn't teach you those manners, kid," Tony said, roaming the room.
"What do you want, anyway?"
"What do you think we want?" Gibbs asked, eyebrow raised.
"To pin me for running my Gran down, which I so did not do."
Gibbs and Teddy went over Teddy's alibi again while Tony ambled freely about, taking in the room and considering the best approach.
The room was cluttered, but clean. Kinda strange for a twenty-year-old guy living by himself.
Trying to identify a faint scent, Tony inhaled deeply and then suddenly sneezed when he finally identified the ancient echoes of potpourri, likely disposed of by Teddy.
He sneezed into his elbow, but noticed the Cross kid scowl at him from across the room.
Strange.
On a hunch, he went to pick up the Game Boy from the coffee table.
"Don't touch that!" came a quick command from the kid, who snatched it away before Tony could put his hands on it.
Smiling, Tony suggested, "I think we should move this interview to the station house."
Since it had been DiNozzo's idea to move the interrogation to the station, Gibbs allowed him to start the interview by himself, warning the detective that he had ten minutes to make some progress, or he'd lose his solo status in there.
While DiNozzo disappeared somewhere, citing the need to prepare himself for god-knew-what, Gibbs got himself coffee at the now-familiar small cafeteria and then found his way to Observation C.
There were more people in the tiny observation room than Gibbs anticipated. They seemed rather jovial, so he figured they weren't waiting for the interrogation room to open up for their own use. In his experience, waiting for something you needed rarely encouraged a good mood.
Maybe the department called for a certain number of mandatory hours spent watching interrogations? Could be. He didn't know much about how local PDs ran internally.
Leo slipped into the room and bobbed his head at several plain clothes detectives. He smiled awkwardly and cracked his knuckles, keeping up a constant stream of nervous hand gestures and submissive body language as he slipped through the room to Gibbs' side.
"Come to watch your partner work, Leo?"
Softly, the kid replied, "He's your partner, not mine."
"I don't need a damned partner."
The younger man shrugged. "Maybe so."
"Definitely so. Doesn't seem like DiNozzo's doing so bad without a partner, either."
Whitford cast him a look that didn't fit the still-in-character body. "Maybe so."
His conversation with Leo was interrupted by the arrival of Tony and Teddy in the adjacent room.
Funny how all conversations with Leo seemed to be interrupted before they went anywhere.
Gibbs expected to see DiNozzo's take on a standard intimidation ploy. Something akin to what Gibbs himself had pulled on the squad's rookies a few days before. Or, perhaps, an engaging tone like the one the detective had used while interviewing the staff at Bowser's; friendlier overtures could lead the suspect into giving away more than he intended, or more than he thought he knew.
He should have known better than to expect a derivative of a standard technique from DiNozzo.
"A-chOO."
The moment DiNozzo opened the door, he sneezed violently. He closed the door, then pulled out a handkerchief and issued a series of overly-loud sneezes and hacks as he stumbled towards the chair opposite Teddy Cross.
Sitting down in the chair heavily, he tossed a wary glance at his suspect through watery eyes. "You wearing some kinda cologne, man? Like a cheap K-Mart brand? I got a great sniffer, it can't handle bottles that cost five bucks."
"No man, come on." Teddy crossed his arms like the badass he no doubt wanted to be.
"Aftershave?"
"No way. That shit's for pussies."
"Huh. Maybe really strong deodorant?" The detective sneezed violently again.
Cross just gave him a look that questioned his sanity.
Gibbs gave the same look to Leo.
The scrawny man's reply was a short, real-looking grin and a finger to his lips. Shut up and watch.
DiNozzo continued. "You got a girl, man? Maybe she's got some heavy perfume tendencies? I mean, you get a hot enough girl, I get how you could overlook a little overdo on the froufrou. But that crap can stick to your skin for days, you know?"
Teddy scowled, in no way afraid of his interrogator. "I ain't got no girl, man."
"Hooker?"
"No! I don't need to pay for it." His scornful look at Tony suggested that perhaps the other man did.
Tony made a sound similar to a cat hacking up a hairball. He fumbled at some files he'd brought in. "Says here…says you got a girl named Carmel." He grinned goofily. "Pretty name. Pretty girl?"
"I don't gotta tell you shit."
Tony sneezed into his handkerchief again. "Maybe it's your shampoo. Let me smell your head." He got up and approached Teddy's chair.
"Get the hell away from me, man! I got rights!"
"I'm pretty sure your rights don't specify that I can't smell your hair. Come on, Teddy. Sit still and let me smell. Maybe you got lice or something? That de-lousing hair stuff smells really strong."
"I ain't got no lice, man!" Belatedly, Teddy tried to squirm out of his chair to get away from the insane detective.
He was too late.
Tony leaned down to take a deep sniff of Cross' hair, and then his breath hitched.
The observation room fell silent and still.
DiNozzo's breath hitched once more, inhaling in an unsteady pattern.
Teddy wiggled, but DiNozzo had leaned down with his arms on either side of the kid, and apparently Teddy was not smart enough to realize he could slither down the chair under the table to get away.
As it was, when the ah-ah-ah inhales finally resulted in one massive outward explosion, said explosion ended up right in Teddy's hair.
A slow, rolling snicker overtook the observation room.
Tony looked embarrassed. "Oh, Teddy. I'm so sorry, man. You were right, your hair doesn't smell at all. And now I've…" He paused, as if in mortification. "Well, looks like I've got a sinus infection. I shouldn't have blamed you all along."
The detective reached out his finger and took a swipe through Cross' hair. He shoved it down into the kid's face.
"Look. See that green snot? Total sign of a sinus infection."
Teddy shrieked like a little girl, so intent on wiggling away from Tony that he failed to notice there was nothing on the finger in his face.
"Though I still think there's some hint of perfume around you. I bet that's Carmel's scent. Right? Here, let me smell again."
DiNozzo finally let Cross slip away from him, then proceeded to go after him. "Come on, just one sniff!"
The kid slammed to the floor on his knees, scrabbling into a corner. "What do you want from me?"
"Just a little smell, Teddy." His face was all innocence as he advanced.
The snickers turned to guffaws.
Apparently the room was full for a very specific reason.
Leo looked over at him, eyes shining in mirth. "The DiNozzo Method of Interrogation."
"I don't got a girl named Carmel, okay!"
"I'm confused, Teddy. You said right here in your statement during the investigation into your grandmother's death that you were with your girl Carmel. Don't tell me you broke up already?"
"I was with Carmel!"
"Great, then tell me where she is. I'd love to talk to her. Get this whole matter settled."
Cross paused, not so stupid.
Tony opened his handkerchief and stared into it. "Geez, the evidence was here all along. See, look…" he turned it so the used side was facing Teddy and advanced. "Look at this! Look, how if you look at it under the florescent light it's all yellow-green, but if you hold it up to the little window here, it's almost lime green. I gotta see a doctor, man. That can't be normal."
"Carmel's not a girl!" Cross cried, arms up over his face protectively.
DiNozzo paused. "Okay. So Carmel's a guy? Guys can wear perfume too; hey, I'm no bigot."
"No! Carmel's a bottle."
"Teddy, that's gross."
"Of whiskey! When I'm out with Carmel, I'm smuggling whiskey! Across the Canadian border, so I can sell it here."
Tony sat down on the floor next to Cross and leaned in. "Teddy…you do realize whiskey is legal in the US. Right?"
A spark lit in Cross' eyes. Apparently now that he'd confessed, he was going to stand up for what he believed in. "Nobody wants to give Canadian whisky a fair shot. They just go after all that shit from Tennessee, or Kentucky bourbon. And with all the import taxes, the Canadian brands are so much more expensive that they'll never take hold here. I'm just trying to give them a fair shake, man!"
DiNozzo let his head slam back to the wall behind him with a thunk. Talk about your dead ends.
He shoved his clean handkerchief into his pocket and leveraged himself up, using Teddy's shoulder as a boost.
"Don't touch me with that hand!"
Tony pulled the kid to his feet. "Geez, Teddy. Maybe you'll get sent to Canadian jail. Maybe it's nicer there. I don't think you'll do so well in a good ol' US prison."
He marched the boy out of the room muttering something about hoping to see a Mountie as Gibbs turned back to Leo.
The slight man looked back at him with a shrug and a small smile. "Whatever else you call it, it is effective." He ducked his head, as though afraid. Quietly, he added, "You should ask Tony about Philadelphia."
Leo slipped out of the room as the chuckling crowd began to trickle out.
Gibbs went off in search of Vice…or whatever department DiNozzo was turning the dangerous whiskey smuggler over to.
This case was starting to piss him off.