0839 Greenwich/ 0339 Eastern
Guy's Hospital – London, England
Agent Weber sat on an uncomfortable chair in the waiting room, next to the agent he had assigned to Commander Alexander. Agent McCall was a lean man in his mid-thirties with light brown hair and grey eyes. Right now, those eyes were closed as he rested, having more or less ignored Weber's earlier order to leave the hospital and get some sleep.
The door opened and a man in surgical scrubs came out. Clearly, he had been told that someone was waiting and seeing the two men, he approached.
"You're here for Ms. Alexander, I believe?" he asked.
"Yes, Doctor. How is she?" Weber asked as McCall came fully alert.
"Her condition is guarded at the moment. We'll know better the full extent of any damage once she awakens."
"I see. Can you give us any ideas as to what we might be facing here, Doctor?"
"The damage was less significant than one might expect, most likely due to the small caliber of the round," the doctor told them. "However, it did transect the Brain, so there is some damage there. What is affected, if anything, is something I can't really answer until she's awake and we can run some tests," the Doctor said before turning to leave.
Weber nodded. He was actually surprised that Commander Alexander had managed to make it this far. Getting shot in the head was usually fatal. Looking over at Bobby, he saw the younger man had his eyes closed again and thought about emulating him, yet Weber felt too anxious to see much benefit in that. This whole case was a giant shit sandwich, in his opinion, before the ringing of his phone interrupted him from going any further.
"Weber."
"Hey, Pops," came Garcia's voice. "Bad news, bad news. The evidence team has been over the room with a fine tooth comb and it's not good. The few stray fibers were found on the pillow and bed. Problem is, they're from a Navy uniform and not specific enough to link to an individual. Also, no shell casing was found."
"So, either the shooter picked up after themselves or we're looking for a revolver," Weber replied.
"Looks that way."
"This just isn't making sense to me, Garcia. Was the fire supposed to cover up the shooting? If it was, why start it on the desk and not the bed itself? Or was the fire started for another reason entirely?"
"Don't know, Pops, but we've got a lot of work to do if we're going to catch the person who did this. So, can you get back here, please?" Garcia begged.
"Let me guess, Atwood's being his usual self?" Weber asked, suspecting the answer.
"Yeah. My name's not 'Babe' and I'm here to investigate a crime, not fetch coffee."
"Well, keep a lid on it for the moment and I'll get back as soon as I can. OK?"
"Yeah, Pops," came Garcia's suffering tones as she hung up the phone.
"The not-so Jolly Green Giant after Garcia again?" Bobby asked, his eyes still closed.
"Yeah, although for the life of me, I can't understand why. You'd have thought her dumping an entire thermos of coffee in his lap when he said, 'Babe, I like mine with two creams', would have gone a long way to letting him know she wasn't interested," Weber said with a laugh.
"I guess not," was Bobby's parting shot as Weber left the waiting room.
RAF West Ruislip – England
1330 Greenwich/ 0830 Eastern
Lieutenant Annette Walker was tired. She'd managed maybe two hours of sleep after a long day yesterday and had spent most of the morning following up on Captain Krennick's whereabouts from yesterday. Now, she was standing in front of the VOQ, waiting for Garcia and Weber to join her there. Weber had called her issue cell phone and suggested a meeting to see where everybody was at.
A call from behind her brought Annette's head around. Weber and Garcia were coming out of the building across the street and made straight for her. The cup of coffee Garcia held out was gratefully accepted, with a slight smile exchanged between the two women.
"Alright. Let's see what we've got. I'll start with Commander Alexander. She's out of surgery, but the docs have no idea when or if she'll be able to talk with us. They recovered the slug in her head and forensics has it now. So for, all they'll say is it's a small caliber, .22 or .25, they'll know more in a while. Garcia, what about you?" Weber asked.
"The crime scene was next to worthless, as far as forensics goes. The only fibers found were straight Navy issue, so no way to match them with a specific individual. No shell casing was found, so that's out as a way of identifying the weapon. I can give a two hour discourse on the damage to the crime scene done by the fire fighters, if you want to hear it?"
"That's quite alright, Garcia. I've heard it all before."
"That's all I have, Pops."
"Lieutenant Walker?"
"Captain Krennick's time line checks out, Agent Weber, as far as that goes. The gate has her leaving the base at 1247. Sergeant Cox was on duty and saw her walk to the Fox and Hounds, which is the pub near the gate. Went there and talked with the waitress, name of Lisa Brown. She vaguely remembers the Captain, but can't swear to it. They're fairly busy during the lunch hour and she's more concerned with orders than faces. The club has her taking her dinner at the bar, a chicken sandwich with steak fries and two glasses of beer. The bartender doesn't recall what time she was there, however," Annette told them, looking at her notes.
"Alright. If we assume that the time she gave us is correct, what does it prove?"
"Not much, other than we have two place we can put her with some certainty. But the arson and attempt on Commander Alexander occurred after Captain Krennick finished dinner and should have been back in the VOQ."
"Precisely, Lieutenant," Weber said. "So, Captain Krennick is still a suspect, but then, so is almost everybody else in the VOQ, plus tons of other people we don't even know about yet."
"Did Major Atwood's search teams have any luck?" Annette asked.
"Nothing yet, but they're still looking," Garcia replied.
"I'm still curious about that fire, though," Weber said, a thoughtful expression on his face. "This whole thing just doesn't make sense."
Annette and Garcia stayed silent, letting the older man work through the problem. Motioning for the two women to follow him, Weber went walking to the parking lot and got into the NCIS sedan. Garcia got behind the wheel and Annette took the front passenger seat. Weber motioned for her to drive off.
"Here's what we know, so far. Commander Alexander was shot once, back of the head, execution style. Except the shooter made a mistake and she's still alive. We know that a fire was started on the desk, using alcohol as the accelerant. Assumptions are that the shooter knocked Commander Alexander unconscious…."
"What the heck?" Garcia asked.
"Come on, Garcia. Think for a minute. Even asleep, don't you think Commander Alexander would have noticed someone putting a pillow over her head and then pressing a gun to the back of her skull?" Weber asked, a smirk on his face, as he formed his hands into a gun-shape and pressed the extended fingers into the back of Annette's head, close to where Commander Alexander had been shot.
"So, how does the shooter get close enough to knock Commander Alexander out?" Annette asked, moving her head forward as Weber kept pressing.
"I'd guess one of three possibilities: she knew her attacker, she was attacked by someone posing as a person of authority, or she was surprised by her attacker."
"Well, Captain Krennick might fit the first category, but I just don't see Commander Alexander inviting the woman in for drinks or a chat?"
"True. But that's something we need to think about. Also, the fire had to have been set by the shooter, but for what purpose?" Weber asked, before grunting in pain. Looking, he saw that Annette had pivoted in her seat. She had managed to grab his wrists and was pulling straight downward. Weber got the message and moved his hands apart, whereupon she released her hold and he returned his hands to his side of the seat.
"Well, if it was to cover up the crime, they should have covered the body with the alcohol and set the fire there," Garcia said, pulling to the shoulder of the road as she took in the scene in the car.
"Assume the fire wasn't to cover up the shooting. What was the real goal, then?"
"Destroy something else?" Annette asked.
"Exactly. So, what was on the desk?" Weber asked in return.
"Has to be something to do with the Krennick case, Agent Weber. I doubt Commander Alexander brought anything with her and this trial is the only thing she's currently working on to my knowledge."
"Garcia, take us back to the office, please. Lieutenant, get in contact with Admiral Morris and request a meeting for us. We need to see any documents she might have been working on in prosecuting Captain Krennick."
"That should be easy, since the Admiral is probably staying on base," Annette said with a smile as she pulled out her cell phone and began dialing.
NCIS Interview Room – London, England
1614 Greenwich/ 1114 Eastern
Admiral Morris sat on one side of the table, while Agent Weber and Lieutenant Walker occupied the other. He had stopped at the FJA offices and retrieved his case materials from the confidential safe, where he had been storing them rather than taking them with him each day. One of the benefits of being the judge, until the case was concluded he didn't need to keep reviewing the documents. Rather, he made notes during the trial about what each side considered important and used those notes when evaluating the evidence.
Now, NCIS seemed to believe that the evidence in the Krennick case was the reason for Commander Alexander being shot. At least, that was his assumption following the telephone call from Lieutenant Walker and her request that he bring the evidence with him.
"Agent Weber, how may I help you?" Morris asked.
"Admiral, we believe that the fire in the VOQ was set not to cover up the attempted murder of Commander Alexander, but to destroy her files relating to the case she's prosecuting," Weber told him. "The fire was set on the desk of the room, rather than on the bed, as one might expect if the motive was to incinerate the body."
"We believe that the reason rests in those files, Sir," Annette added.
"And you want me to let you look at those documents?"
"Yes, Sir. Also, we'd be interested in your perceptions on how the trial itself is going?" Weber asked.
"I can't do that, Agent. Anything I might say one way or another about the trial could be construed as bias. There would be a mistrial and possible sanctions against me," Morris told them.
"Could we possibly see the court reporter's transcript, Sir? We could form an opinion from that, just as easily and without needing to involve you making comments," Annette told Admiral Morris.
"I'll need to talk with the Judge Advocate General and get advice. The main thing I need to keep in mind is maintaining a fair trial for Captain Krennick. I understand that this may seem trivial to you, Agent Weber, but I've dedicated my life to the rule of law. I can't throw that away, no matter how righteous the motives may be."
"I can appreciate that, Admiral. My life has been in service to that same ideal," Weber said with a tight smile. He couldn't help admiring a man of principles and conviction, even when those principles and convictions were slowing down the solution to his case.
"I'll try to have an answer for you by tomorrow, Agent," Admiral Morris told him. "My suggestion would be to read through the evidence. It's in the order of submission, separated by which side submitted it. So, it starts with People's 1 and ends with Defense's 6."
"Thank you, Admiral Morris. If we have any questions?"
"By all means, call me. I will answer what I can."
With that, Admiral Morris left the interview room. Weber looked at the stacks and immediately removed the defense exhibits, earning a smile from Garcia and a knowing look from Walker. That just cut the work load by thirty percent. Next, he separated the various documents. The biggest was also the very last one, a set of flight manifests. Weber took those and moved the rest of the documents out of the way.
"Alright, here's my thoughts. Assumption number one, the case has been going on almost a week. If the attempt on Commander Alexander is tied to the evidence, the timing seems to suggest the most recent evidence as the likely cause?"
"Ok, so that would be those flight manifests?" Garcia asked.
"Correct. Assumption number two, there is something in here that frightened the shooter enough that they believed the only rational solution was to kill anyone who found it. Now, here's our problem. What is that thing?" Weber asked.
"Here's another problem, Agent Weber," Annette said, earning a frown. "How did Commander Alexander make the connection, if there is one? Was it based on something said in testimony? Was it just something that came to her? Or did something else happen, something we don't know about?"
"Oh, Walker. You are just a barrel of sunshine and happy thoughts, ain't ya?"
"Just calling it like I see it, that's all. This is like doing a jigsaw puzzle in the dark. We've got pieces, but we can't be sure we've got all of them. We can make out the shapes, but not the colors, so we can't be certain that what we put together really fits. This is going to be fun."
"Welcome to true police work, Lieutenant," Garcia said with a smile. "We'll fumble around until another clue surfaces, then move the pieces some more. The answer is here, I'm sure of that. Now we just need to ask the right questions."
"Well, let get started," Weber said, as he laid out the pages, trying to find the initial pattern. Welcome to police work, indeed. Hours of tedious reading, deep thinking and pattern recognition went into turning bits of nothing into something.