"Dark Days" Parts 1 and 2 of ?
Aug. 28th, 2005 12:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kristen999Here's the start of another long casefile. One of the more complicted plots that I've ever tried and a lot of twists and darkness along the way.
Title: Dark Days
Author: Kristen999
Category: Angst/ Drama/ Case file
Spoilers: General for seasons 1-4. Set in Season 5, but no specific spoilers for it.
Disclaimer: All rights belong to CBS and all their fine writers. Please don't sue. This is just for fun.
Summary: Detachment from a case is a necessity. Obsession, however, can be an unavoidable evil. Nick battles his demons during a case of a murdered child.
Notes This story deals with dark and sensitive subject matter. The story takes place during Season 5, but the Team is not split up. I will try to update twice a week. I’m still completing this project.
Thanks: To Tinkerbell for all of her wonderful editing.
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Chapter 1
Gil Grissom stared at his calendar in confused silence. He dug through
files, expense reports, and pursed his lips. Catherine had just left his office in a hurry after yet another conversation where they'd gotten their wires crossed. The same date, how could he have forgotten..... again? He rubbed at his chin, scratching around his beard. He'd already made the decision; it was a fairly easy one after all. His thoughts were interrupted when his Big Mouth Billy Bass began singing.
The supervisor peered though his reading spectacles. He acknowledged the entrance with a nod and invited the person to enter his office. Nick Stokes walked in, not a single amount of hesitancy in his demeanor. Gil raised an eyebrow in admiration; the other criminalist always seemed to be slightly uncomfortable when his presence had been requested in the past. Nick strolled in, cool as a cucumber, and took a seat without asking. Gil chuckled on the inside. The young criminalist seemed so relaxed, Nick the Man in Black. Grissom wondered if he should lightly suggest that the other man try wearing something other than a black T-shirt and jeans.
His amusement quickly dissipated when he thumbed through the file
folder in front of him. His CSI was certainly up to the challenge. But it wasn't doubt that tickled at his brain- he just hated to hand over this much responsibility on one plate. This was a three course meal, indeed.
Nick sat patiently in his chair as the older man slid the files over to him.
"Dead boy found in the alley of Tenth and Saint Andrews. I want you to run it."
The younger criminalist picked up the assignment, the location and notes neatly printed on the page. Nick nodded as he gave it a cursory exam. "I'm on it." He looked over at his boss. "Any reason I just didn't pick this off the board or something?"
Gil shrugged almost innocently. "I'm leaving in an hour for that
conference... it's mandatory."
Nick leaned back in his chair, still not quite convinced this was the reason for being summoned. "Something special about this case? Body hasn't been identified."
Grissom tapped his fingers on his desk absently. "Catherine has to go with me. It's a prerequisite if she ever wants to get the next shift supervisory position." Gil looked over at Nick, keeping his expression casual. "I'm leaving you in charge of the shift for the next several days while we're both out of town. You'll be lead on this case, as well as overseeing all other regular lab duties."
Nick Stokes beamed with pride as his smile reached from ear to ear. "Yeah?"
His boss allowed a very tiny grin, but it disappeared rather quickly.
"You're lucky it's a slow night. When Sara's done with the Willborne case, she can lend a hand. Till then, you got Warrick and Greg."
The wheel in Nick's head was already shifting gears, and his face grew
serious. "Greg's never worked on a murdered child case before."
The supervisor studied the man in front of him. He simply adjusted his
weight in the chair.
"You want me to mentor him on this?" Nick asked, even though he knew the answer.
"I think you can juggle it all. He'll need a steady guide on a case like this."
The younger criminalist sat straighter in his chair even if he didn't
realize it. "The first one's pretty tough. I'll make sure he learns, and handles it alright."
Grissom slowly stood up from his chair. "I know." The supervisor knew Nick had the empathic skills to help a green criminalist on cases like this. The first dead child case was always the hardest. There were many firsts in this field, all of them were never very pleasant. But it was the job.
Nick got out of his chair. "Looks like I need to get busy, then. I'll let the rest of the team know." Nick was all business as he carefully started planning all the things he would need to set in motion.
The younger man turned to leave, but stopped right outside the door.
"Thanks, Grissom."
The supervisor gave a slight nod. "None needed."
Nick left his office and Gil started to pack away things in his briefcase for his trip. Four days was a very long time to leave someone who was inexperienced in running the unit. Perhaps he should have sought help from another team, but Gil knew he made the right choice. He only hoped that whatever unexpected things that occurred would be a learning experience for Nick.
There were always surprises. They were what made the position so grueling sometimes.
************************
Warrick Brown was polishing off the last bit of his coffee, and glanced at his watch. Grissom was slightly overdue, which was so unlike his boss. He hadn't noticed any bustle about the lab, no hot cases could be tying everyone up. Warrick's police scanner was on the fritz, so he felt like he was in the dark. He was about to search out some change for the snack machine when he heard hurried footsteps enter the breakroom.
"What's up, Nick?" he greeted his partner.
"Not much."
Warrick cocked his head to one side. Nick Stokes was practically vibrating with intense energy. There was a brightness to his eyes, an almost-bounce in his step as he walked over to him. That silly grin of his always gave him away.
Warrick smiled, playing the coy one. "I take it we got another dull night ahead of us?"
Nick's smile disappeared. A mask of seriousness slipped on, and Warrick knew that his partner was all riled up by something. The case in the file folder was not going to be a good one.
"We've got an unidentified child in an alleyway. I'm supposed to grab you and Greg to handle it."
The taller CSI took a deep breath and prepared his mind for the death
of another young victim. "I'll drive. Greggo can get in the back seat."
Nick tucked the files under his arm and signaled for his partner to follow him. Both criminalists went down the hall and headed for the parking lot. Bobby Dawson came bounding down the hall, breathless.
He cut into their path. "Good, glad I stopped you before you headed to
that scene."
Nick looked at the other man. He placed his hand along the hallway wall and leaned on it. "What'cha need?"
"That slug from the Anderson case came from an antique colt .45, a very rare gun. Must date back to before World War II."
Warrick was intrigued but impatient with this distraction. He glanced over at Nick, who was focused on the weapons expert. Warrick cleared his throat in an attempt to hurry the other CSI, but Nick didn't pay any attention to him. Bobby was still rattling on about the need to find another gun for analysis. Warrick noted wearily that this wasn't really their problem to contend with.
Nick fixed the ballistics expert with an exasperated look. "All right, I get it. You need another Colt...ahhh....." Nick stopped trying to recall the exact model. "You need another gun," he amended.
"Yeah, the gun's worth like close to five grand. I need your signature for authorization to borrow one from the Vegas Weapons' society to run a comparison." The frantic man shoved a form in Nick's hands.
The criminalist looked at it perplexed, but exuded calmness. "Yeah, ah ... sure." Nick scribbled his name to the form and handed it back, arching an eyebrow. "We borrow stuff from them all the time....right?"
Bobby snatched up the slip. "Oh, yeah sure. I mean there's nothing to worry except maybe some insurance issues. But, yeah no problems that should arise." Then the tech was off like a shot down the hallway.
Warrick now stared at his partner, his face furrowed in confusion. "Nick. Why did you just sign off on that?"
The Texan tried to hide his pleasure of leading his partner on for a while. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. I'm shift supervisor, while Griss and Cath are gone. So, that's bossman to you, Rick."
Nick winked at his bewildered coworker. Warrick snorted loudly. "Oh, hell no."
Nick just smiled. "Come on, let's grab Greggo and get to the scene."
The two rounded a corner when Jacqui grabbed Nick's shoulder and led him into her lab. Warrick watched in amusement as she rattled off another round of complications from some case. Nick seemed like he got a handle on the situation before being allowed to leave.
The partners were stopped two more times before they finally found Greg
Sanders. The trio slipped out of the building before Nick could be hounded again with another set of problems.
Warrick slipped his keys into the ignition and looked over at the other man, who was on his cell phone trying to track down Sara Sidle to update her about something that Trace had found on her case.
'Nick Stokes is about to learn the wonders of middle management.' Warrick hid a secret smile as he drove over to the scene.
***********************
Nick turned around in his seat to speak face to face with Greg Sanders. The newest CSI had passed his first proficiency test only a month
previously. He was still learning the ropes for field work, and needed to be as mentally prepared as possible for what to expect.
Greg looked up at his colleague studying him with a wistful expression. Greg adjusted his tie, something he wasn't quite comfortable with. He wore one of his newly purchased suits, a jacket that was too big, and solid colored button up shirt that felt a bit too normal for his taste.
"So, how old is the victim?" he asked in a hushed tone.
Nick kept his body twisted somewhat uncomfortably, to keep the younger man in his line of sight. "We don't know his age." Nick clicked his teeth together. "First thing you need to do is to keep yourself detached. Don't concentrate on his face, or imagine what he might have been like, alive."
Greg stared ahead as his colleague's voice drifted into softer tones.
"It's just a smaller body, another victim who needs us to concentrate on the assignment."
Greg nodded, his voice not quite working. He'd been on cases involving dead children when he was in the lab. He'd been on the other side of things, technical breakdowns of blood, chemicals, and DNA. However, he'd never been closely involved with the body, to the smells and sights of young innocence lost. Greg fiddled with his hands.
Nick twisted his neck to one side, loosening stiff muscles. "Take deep,
steady breaths. If you need some fresh air, just step away and refocus your thoughts."
"All right." No snappy comments. Greg could almost hear the inner thoughts of his coworkers. Pure mental preparation. Distraction and concentration. He hoped he could assimilate that same kind of deep focus, without the horror of the crime overshadowing his duty.
Warrick pulled onto a side street. The bouncing red and blue lights of
patrol cars flashed in different time intervals from each other. The trio pulled out their kits, and walked stoically towards the yellow tape that flapped in the chilly air.
Jim Brass, his face as unreadable as granite, simply waited for them to
approach. He glanced behind his back, his eyes cold and still, a pure
reflection of the climate of the evening. "Victim was found in the alley by a store owner. Annie Wilke, age 65, found him when she was taking out the trash. She dialed 911 immediately."
Nick saw David crouched over a small, lifeless form several feet away. "No, eyewitnesses? No one saw a thing?"
The Captain shook his head in the negative. "No reports of a disturbance. This scene... it's... it's strange."
Warrick rubbed the fingers of his left hand together. "What about it?"
Jim shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. "Take a look for yourself."
Nick and Warrick approached the body first, each placing their kits to the side so they could take in the area. David stepped away, his face drawn tight and expressionless in the low lighting.
"My preliminary COD is exsanguination. His throat's been cut. I'd say he's been dead less than an hour." David kept his head down, his words floated out quietly in the air.
Nick crouched down, slipping on his gloves. The smacking sound of latex from two other sets of hands echoed behind him. A young boy lay on his side, his eyes open, the dull blue iris glazed over. The blood from a large wound across his throat stained the beige blanket beneath him. The crimson pool spread past the fabric and into the street.
The child's hair lay in his own blood, his mouth partially open as if
suddenly surprised. His right arm was straight out in front of him, his left curled protectively around a small purple stuffed donkey. Even the precious toy had not been spared from being soiled.
The smell of copper perpetuated the air, meaning that the crime was fresh. The blood seemed moist around the pajama top, but the child's legs were still dry. Warrick's feet crunched along the loose asphalt as he walked behind the body, his eyes searching for any disturbances or clues.
Greg remained still; he never took his eyes off the child's face, whose
complexion continued to ashen right in front of him.
"Body's clear for you guys." David explained, breaking the silence.
Nick stayed on his haunches, his eyes darting around the shadows. "All
right. Warrick, see if you can find any trace of how he got here. Tire
tracks, shoe prints, anything to indicate who was here."
Warrick glanced around, noting the debris that littered outside the narrow area behind the store lots. His lips twitched. "Lot of trash around here, but I'll see what I can do."
Nick turned and looked over his shoulder. "Greg, I want you to take photos of the body. Document from several angles. Then we'll move him, see if there's anything we can find."
"What about identifying him?" Greg asked tentatively.
Nick motioned his head in the direction of the small DB. "He's in his PJ's. I doubt he has any school identification on him. We'll have to wait till we can take his prints and run them past the school systems'. Then we'll scour any missing person's reports from the last twenty-four hours."
The younger man shuddered while keeping his breathing even. He looked over at his coworker, who nodded for him to continue. The camera shutter's clicking was the only sound in the silent alley.
Nick shined his flashlight around the blanket and the surrounding ground searching for trace. Each man worked in silence for a long while.
"What are your instincts telling you about the position of the body?" Nick questioned. He wanted to get Greg used to asking things, trying to
investigate every avenue while the body was still present.
Greg moved around in a circle, taking in the dark blue cotton, clothes. The blanket was spread out carefully. "He was killed here. There's a large amount of blood."
"Castoff?" Nick asked.
Greg looked at the wall, and noted the splatter of blood drops. He took
several photos. Then he knelt down to inspect the wound closer. "Is it okay to move him now?"
Nick tentatively placed his gloved hand on the boys' face, and closed the eyelids. His fingers lingered on the child's cheek, the skin was still warm. Nick removed his hand. "Yeah," he said softly.
David came over with a stretcher, ready to transport the boy back to the lab for an autopsy. The Assistant Coroner carefully placed his hands under the body, and lifted the child carefully, the little boy's arms falling to his sides. Nick shined his flashlight around the now empty blanket, not noticing anything besides the blood pool.
Nick stood up, and Greg slowly made his way next to his coworker. The other criminalist pointed down. "Someone took great care on spreading the blanket around, every inch of it is flat."
"The-the stuffed animal. The killer had to bring it with him," the young criminalist observed.
"The little boy might have not gone anywhere without it. Go ahead and bag it. Might be some initials somewhere on it." Nick moved aside as Greg gathered the toy up.
He inspected the tag and noticed two letters scribbled on it. "JT" He said out loud.
Nick looked at the ex-tech. "It's a start. Let's finish up our collection."
The three criminalists worked in literal silence and gathered what little solid evidence they could find. It was as if the poor child had appeared from nowhere and was dumped without a single thing left behind from the murderer. Nick would occasionally ask Greg several things to get the younger CSI's mind focused on the case. They gathered up the blanket, and canvassed the surrounding area, then moved around in an expanding circumference in their search.
Warrick wandered over towards the temporary supervisor. "I didn't find
anything other than trash from one of the cans. I did find a partial set of large prints and I doubt they match the older lady who discovered the body."
Nick processed the information. "Where were they?"
"Several feet from the fence that leads to the side of the store. Gate was unlocked, and it leads to another side street. Easy access in and out. Print was near the fence door. There's a lot of crushed up rock over there, puddles around. Someone stepped in water, then in some of the rock. Made a partial impression in the dust."
Nick wandered over towards the fence and then poked his head around. He
noticed the small side street that was cast in shadows. There were no street lights around. He walked down till he reached the main street, and studied the surrounding buildings. Warrick came up behind him, his eyes matching his partner's in a search of the area.
"I came down here when I was looking for tire tracks. Didn't see any
buildings that might hide any kind of surveillance cameras. No banks, gas stations, or traffic units around."
Nick imagined a dark car absently cruising around the main strip, then
pulling into the alley way. Some shadowy figure walked down, went past the gate and killed the little boy. No one the wiser, no eyes to witness the crime.
Nick shook his head. "Our suspect must know this area. How else did he know that it was hidden back here?" Nick looked at the other criminalist.
Warrick agreed. "Familiarity with this location. Maybe our killer works or lives near by. Might want to get someone banging on doors in the morning. See if anyone has noticed anyone suspicious in the area lately, sneaking around out back."
Nick stripped off his gloves, bagged them and put them in the pocket of his vest. The CSI stretched and bent at the waist. "Let's head back to the lab. Greg and I'll process the blanket and the toy. See if you can get something off those shoe prints."
Warrick looked doubtful. "It's a shot in the dark, man."
Nick shrugged and looked over at Greg who now stood next to him.
The younger man was obviously shaken by the scene. "I guess we'll get the autopsy in a few hours?"
"Depends on how backed up the Doc is." Warrick responded.
"I'll have Brass check those missing children's reports. When the body
arrives, let's get his prints and start running them against all the local school systems that participate in the community ID program." Nick gathered up his kit and started towards the SUV.
Greg remained behind alongside Warrick. "How do you guys.....I mean, how do you get used to this?"
Warrick turned to look at him, his face passive. "You don't. You deal with it, keep your wits about ya. Then you channel everything into the case."
Greg looked down at his feet and then back up. "You and Nick just seem so collected."
"It's called detachment, Greg. Something you'll learn."
Nick was far enough ahead of his coworkers that he got to the trunk of the vehicle. He put his kit away, and stole a moment to gather his racing thoughts. He tried pushing aside the images of those hollow, glassy eyes. There was a sense of absolute horror reflected in those dead orbs. Nick bit his lip and pushed aside the anger roaring throughout him.
He took a few seep calming breaths, his hands tightening into fists. Then he opened the passenger door as the rest of his coworkers put away their own collections and supplies. Nick slid into his seat and stole a glance in the passenger mirror as his colleagues got into the vehicle. His own brown eyes were darker; they glistened with a hot, fierce intensity.
Nick squeezed the armrest tightly, but then relaxed his body somewhat.
"Good job out there, Greg." His voice was calm and steady without any
indication of his easily hidden feelings.
"Thanks."
The car drive back to the lab was done in relative silence.
Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Nick had barely been back at the Lab when Mia had tracked him down, as he dropped off film from the scene. He told Greg to start his analysis of the stuffed toy, while Warrick took the shoe prints to work on, without a word. The two partners really didn't need any spoken communication. After working side by side for over six years, they knew each other's routines and dividing up the case was second nature.
It was obvious that Mia was fuming over something, so the temporary shift leader took her a side. "Something on your mind?" he asked.
"Oh, you can say that." The fiery lab tech huffed and tapped her pristine finger nails on the glass of one of the windows of the cubicle.
Nick lifted his eyebrows, waiting for her to get her emotions under control. He really wanted to get back to his current case, but Mia was one of "his" employees.
"It's Hodges." She seethed.
Nick lifted his head in expectation.
"I can put up with his comments since I just ignore him. His lab side manner is competent, but I swear, Nick. That man needs to give me some space. I try to keep an organized, tidy area- MY area," she emphasized.
Nick nodded, trying to follow her train of thought.
"He's contaminating everything with all of his projects. Samples, paper
work, chemicals everywhere. The man's even encroaching on my shelves and my work counter." Mia tapped her foot constantly as she fumed to Nick.
Nick held out his hands. He really didn't have time for this. "Mia... Mia," he said trying to get her to quiet enough to listen. "I'll talk to Hodges. Tell him to respect your space."
Nick knew how compulsive the female tech could be. Just by agreeing to hold the snarky man accountable for whatever she deemed offensive would allow him to cut the conversation short.
"It's more about respect, Nick." Mia fixed him with her brilliant eyes.
"He's insatiable sometimes. What am I saying? All the time. I really think he does it to push my buttons."
"Then don't let him," Nick stated. "Don't give him that power over you.
Ignore the guy, we all do."
It was obvious that she wasn't pleased with his solution. Nick placed his hand on her shoulder trying to lull her. "I'll make sure he gets the message, all right?"
Mia seemed to think about it. "Fine. Just talk to him. Tonight."
Nick grinned. "I will."
The tech, walked away briskly without another word, and Nick shook his head. Personal problems. He had work to do and he had to play referee. He'd consult the playground bully in a little while. The CSI searched out Greg Sanders. The ex-tech should have had time to start processing the stuffed donkey.
*****************************
Nick found the younger CSI focused over a microscope. The small stuffed
animal lay on a tray; several samples of fibers were tagged and neatly
organized. Nick studied the little toy for a moment; his eyes focused on how much of a small child's affections were bestowed on such an item. Maybe the animal had been a favorite, something the boy couldn't go to bed without. Or perhaps it was a gift from his parents, a couple now frantic and worried about the safety of a son.
Nick's jaw tightened. He was going to have to destroy someone's life
tonight, watch it shatter into a million pieces. Sometimes he felt like the Grim Reaper, carrying the message of death onto others.
"Come up with anything on the toy?"
Greg peered up, and placed his hands along the edge of the counter. "It's definably old. It wasn't bought recently. The hair is worn away in spots, the color slightly faded."
"Means the suspect didn't buy the toy to calm down the boy," Nick reasoned.
Greg nodded. "I swabbed a dozen areas, and found a small hair sample. It's blonde so it might be the kid's. I'll wait to get a comparison from Doc Robbins, when he's done."
Greg scrunched his face while he contemplated his next question. "Why do you think the killer brought the toy to a dump site?" Greg tried not to look sheepish.
Nick picked up on the hesitation. "It's all right to ask the 'why?' questions, Greg. But I don't know. When we find the parents maybe they can help us figure out if there was any significance. There was care taken in how the boy was presented." Nick gritted his teeth. "However, let's focus on the 'how', all right?"
The ex-tech nodded silently.
Nick turned to exit the room, when Sara Side almost bumped into him.
"Hey, Nick." There was no hostility in her tone. If she didn't accept the fact that Nick was in charge without any competitive issues, then she wasn't showing it.
"I just came back from the morgue with my case. Doc wanted me to give you the clothes from your DB." Sara handed the other criminalist the plastic baggie that contained the small pajamas.
Nick took the items from her hands. "How's your case coming along? I thought you and O'Reilly had a suspect in custody?"
Sara's body stiffened, transforming into a defensive posture. Nick didn't want to appear as if he was breathing down her neck and changed his question. "I mean, you were down at the morgue." He raised an eyebrow in question.
Sara relaxed, slightly. "We had Botts in for questioning, but the poison we found in his secretary's food, and the chemicals he had access to his lab, don't jibe. I went down to talk to Robbins to see if there was perhaps a combination we might be missing."
Nick listened while he squeezed the evidence bag in his hands. He tried to ignore a small voice in his head, telling him that something wasn't right. "Good. Just keep me informed on any changes. Botts is a chemist, he might have used a compound that broke down into components that can't be identified as a normal poison."
Sara was agreeing with him. "Already on it. See you later," she waved as she went back down the corridor of the lab.
Nick held himself rigidly, as his fingers clasped the smooth plastic, the clothes rubbing on the inside. He caught Greg staring at him from the corner of his eye and Nick turned and headed for a work area that wasn't already occupied.
He found a small examination room, and donned one of the light blue lab
coats. He strolled over to a box of latex gloves, slapped a pair on and then proceeded to take the pajama top and bottoms out of the plastic. He read the evidence label, listing out the articles collected before the autopsy took place. Doc Robbins' handwriting was clear and legible. One shirt top with dinosaurs on the front and a solid pair of footed blue bottoms. Nick laid each item on the table. He adjusted one of the lamps, by pulling the bright bulb closer.
Nick knew that addling more brightness to the clothes wasn't going to make the situation any more correct. He fingered the PJ's, his mind wrestling with the fact that the little boy's underwear was missing. Nick rolled his shoulders as the bile burned the back of his throat. His brain was sending all sorts of danger signals, but right now he needed to see if he could find any trace off these nightclothes.
Jim Brass was hitting the computers for any missing child reports, so he would concentrate on something that was in front of him. Nick began the process of searching for any trace of the killer. He started with the ALS to search for any fluids, and then made swabs in hopes of finding any epithelials. Then he would begin the task of lifting any fibers.
Nick spent the next hour with the clothes. All the while the nagging in his head was starting to get louder, and harder to ignore.
*********************
Nick was taking notes from his lack of findings from the pajamas. He
had already put the clothes in a cardboard box that housed all the
evidence in the case so far. The container was virtually empty; never a good sign in an investigation, but the night was still young. He flipped through the pages when Warrick knocked to signal his presence and entered.
Nick adjusted his weight on the stool and looked up at him. "Get anywhere with the shoe prints?"
Warrick threw down some photos and forms, then shrugged his shoulders.
"Prints were a size 11 Adidas. Very popular brand. It's the third best
selling walking shoe for the company. Other than that, I got nothin'."
Warrick stood over the other CSI and stole a look at his notes. "What about you? Anything?"
Nick grunted. "Not much. No trace of anything on the clothes. I'm still
waiting for Greg's analysis of the toy. He found a hair on it, but my gut tells me it'll belong to the kid."
Nick put the pictures of the clothes and laid it out for his coworker to view. "I'm guessing the John Doe is about 8." Nick looked up at the other man. "His underwear is missing."
Warrick followed his partner's train of thought. "He might not wear any. Kids take that stuff off all the time, but yeah. The implications aren't very good."
"Yeah. I've got someone running his prints with the school system. But so far, nothing." Nick didn't feel any closer to finding out the child's name.
"He might not attend any of the schools that are involved in that program. It's not mandatory in all districts." Warrick offered, feeling like the local administrations didn't do enough to help keep track of their own school children.
Nick got up and stretched his back. He looked at his watch. "I think Doc should be done with the preliminary autopsy by now. Our kid was the next on his table." Nick regretted the casualness of his voice.
"I'm going to take Greg with me. He needs to experience the whole case from beginning to end."
Warrick gathered his findings. "I'm meeting Brass over at the station; give him a hand on those missing kids' reports. I'll take your photos with me. See if we can track down a lead."
Both men set off in different directions, each with the same common goal.
*****************************
Nick stood outside the morgue, watching Greg Sanders walk slowly down the hall. The young man played with the buttons of his lab coat, as he
approached the other criminalist.
Greg folded his arms across his chest, and stared at the door. "We, ah,
waiting for something?"
Nick cleared his throat. "I just thought you might one to take a few seconds to prepare yourself."
Greg tried to look indifferent. "I've handled autopsies before. No problem." He said, his voice as normal as possible. His eyes spoke differently, there was uncertainly there.
Nick put his hand on the other man's shoulder. "This will be different and you wouldn't be human if it wasn't. Ask questions, pay attention. But most of all, let me know if you are handling it alright."
Greg looked pensive, but nodded. Nick knew that the youngest of the team was really trying, but he was still a rookie. As much as Greg needed to learn, he needed to take these steps seriously and be straightforward with him.
Nick pushed open the heavy, metallic door, and stepped into a room that
filled his nostrils with smells of chemicals, blood, and the decay of death. He wandered into the chilly, dark room, his feet taking him towards the middle of it. A light hung down over a lifeless little body.
Doc Robbins seemed like he was in his own world, staring down at the boy. The image of the kid's face was projected onto a computer screen next to the doctor's left. A sheet covered the child all the way to his waist. The sickly white flesh tone made Nick's skin crawl.
Both men gave the older man in the room a few moments and then Nick made his way over. His footfalls alerted the coroner that he was no longer alone.
"Nick." The older man focused his attention on the other CSI. "Greg."
Nick knew there was no room for small talk. He looked down at the John Doe; the boy barely took up half the table.
"Do you have any preliminary findings?" Nick asked, his voice soft and low.
The coroner pointed at the large cut that went from right below his jaw
line, all the way across the boy's throat. "COD from exsanguination, single large blade across the jugular. Death was within minutes."
Greg studied the slit in the kid's throat. He tried to keep his now queasy stomach at bay from the violence and cold-bloodedness of such an evil act. Other than that terrible mark, the boy's face was void of any signs of bruises, or other cuts. The simple expression of innocence. He tried to keep his feet still and keep from moving around too much.
The coroner continued with his summary. "Rigor and liver temp indicates the boy has been dead less than four hours. David put time of death under an hour from when you arrived at the scene."
Nick nodded. "Any designative marks?"
Greg darted his eyes from his coworker to the doctor. The coroner, fixed both men was an even stare. "No. I searched for any signs of physical trauma. No bruising on his arms or legs. Nothing on his chest." Dr. Robbins adjusted his glasses, the pause alerting both CSIs of bad news.
"My initial exam went forward and I discovered bruising around his groin area." The coroner maintained a detached voice.
Nick stiffened; he held his breath to try to resist the urge to lose his cool. He had to remain professional at all times. "Anything else?"
Doc Robbins nodded. "Signs of sodomy, tearing around the anus, and a lot of deep bruising. I'll perform a SART examine in a little while."
Nick looked over at Greg, who stared straight in front of him, the young man's body tense. Nick waited to see if the other CSI would ask any questions of his own, but the other man remained mute. Nick turned to face the older man. "How fresh is the trauma?" His accent was heavy as he tried to keep his voice calm.
"Less than twenty-four hours. I'll be searching for signs of repeated
abuse."
Nick took in the added information and turned to his colleague. "Compare the hair off the toy with a sample of the boy's. I want to know if it belongs to him, or perhaps our suspect."
Greg blew out a breath and headed out of the morgue. Nick could tell from how quickly the younger man dashed towards the door that he could not get out there fast enough. Nick glanced back at the coroner.
Doc Robbins looked at the young criminalist before him. "Do you want to
process the body?"
When the doctor was greeted by silence, he looked down at the little boy. "Don't worry, I'll handle it."
"Let me know when you get the rape kit results back." Solemnly the CSI
exited the lab and stood in the hallway.
This particular corridor was the quietest part of the building; very little traffic came though this area. Nick leaned against the wall, the smooth stone a solid reinforcement for his back. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, allowing himself to mourn another dead kid. He was glad Doc Robbins had offered to do the evidence collection. Nick really didn't want to search for defensive wounds, or do any hair and fiber collection from the boy's fingernails and body.
He collected himself and walked with a flourish back to the lab. He wasn't going to let the trail get cold for this child. He would find out who he was, and what monster was behind the tragedy.
*************************************************************
Tbc....
Title: Dark Days
Author: Kristen999
Category: Angst/ Drama/ Case file
Spoilers: General for seasons 1-4. Set in Season 5, but no specific spoilers for it.
Disclaimer: All rights belong to CBS and all their fine writers. Please don't sue. This is just for fun.
Summary: Detachment from a case is a necessity. Obsession, however, can be an unavoidable evil. Nick battles his demons during a case of a murdered child.
Notes This story deals with dark and sensitive subject matter. The story takes place during Season 5, but the Team is not split up. I will try to update twice a week. I’m still completing this project.
Thanks: To Tinkerbell for all of her wonderful editing.
*******************************************************************
Chapter 1
Gil Grissom stared at his calendar in confused silence. He dug through
files, expense reports, and pursed his lips. Catherine had just left his office in a hurry after yet another conversation where they'd gotten their wires crossed. The same date, how could he have forgotten..... again? He rubbed at his chin, scratching around his beard. He'd already made the decision; it was a fairly easy one after all. His thoughts were interrupted when his Big Mouth Billy Bass began singing.
The supervisor peered though his reading spectacles. He acknowledged the entrance with a nod and invited the person to enter his office. Nick Stokes walked in, not a single amount of hesitancy in his demeanor. Gil raised an eyebrow in admiration; the other criminalist always seemed to be slightly uncomfortable when his presence had been requested in the past. Nick strolled in, cool as a cucumber, and took a seat without asking. Gil chuckled on the inside. The young criminalist seemed so relaxed, Nick the Man in Black. Grissom wondered if he should lightly suggest that the other man try wearing something other than a black T-shirt and jeans.
His amusement quickly dissipated when he thumbed through the file
folder in front of him. His CSI was certainly up to the challenge. But it wasn't doubt that tickled at his brain- he just hated to hand over this much responsibility on one plate. This was a three course meal, indeed.
Nick sat patiently in his chair as the older man slid the files over to him.
"Dead boy found in the alley of Tenth and Saint Andrews. I want you to run it."
The younger criminalist picked up the assignment, the location and notes neatly printed on the page. Nick nodded as he gave it a cursory exam. "I'm on it." He looked over at his boss. "Any reason I just didn't pick this off the board or something?"
Gil shrugged almost innocently. "I'm leaving in an hour for that
conference... it's mandatory."
Nick leaned back in his chair, still not quite convinced this was the reason for being summoned. "Something special about this case? Body hasn't been identified."
Grissom tapped his fingers on his desk absently. "Catherine has to go with me. It's a prerequisite if she ever wants to get the next shift supervisory position." Gil looked over at Nick, keeping his expression casual. "I'm leaving you in charge of the shift for the next several days while we're both out of town. You'll be lead on this case, as well as overseeing all other regular lab duties."
Nick Stokes beamed with pride as his smile reached from ear to ear. "Yeah?"
His boss allowed a very tiny grin, but it disappeared rather quickly.
"You're lucky it's a slow night. When Sara's done with the Willborne case, she can lend a hand. Till then, you got Warrick and Greg."
The wheel in Nick's head was already shifting gears, and his face grew
serious. "Greg's never worked on a murdered child case before."
The supervisor studied the man in front of him. He simply adjusted his
weight in the chair.
"You want me to mentor him on this?" Nick asked, even though he knew the answer.
"I think you can juggle it all. He'll need a steady guide on a case like this."
The younger criminalist sat straighter in his chair even if he didn't
realize it. "The first one's pretty tough. I'll make sure he learns, and handles it alright."
Grissom slowly stood up from his chair. "I know." The supervisor knew Nick had the empathic skills to help a green criminalist on cases like this. The first dead child case was always the hardest. There were many firsts in this field, all of them were never very pleasant. But it was the job.
Nick got out of his chair. "Looks like I need to get busy, then. I'll let the rest of the team know." Nick was all business as he carefully started planning all the things he would need to set in motion.
The younger man turned to leave, but stopped right outside the door.
"Thanks, Grissom."
The supervisor gave a slight nod. "None needed."
Nick left his office and Gil started to pack away things in his briefcase for his trip. Four days was a very long time to leave someone who was inexperienced in running the unit. Perhaps he should have sought help from another team, but Gil knew he made the right choice. He only hoped that whatever unexpected things that occurred would be a learning experience for Nick.
There were always surprises. They were what made the position so grueling sometimes.
************************
Warrick Brown was polishing off the last bit of his coffee, and glanced at his watch. Grissom was slightly overdue, which was so unlike his boss. He hadn't noticed any bustle about the lab, no hot cases could be tying everyone up. Warrick's police scanner was on the fritz, so he felt like he was in the dark. He was about to search out some change for the snack machine when he heard hurried footsteps enter the breakroom.
"What's up, Nick?" he greeted his partner.
"Not much."
Warrick cocked his head to one side. Nick Stokes was practically vibrating with intense energy. There was a brightness to his eyes, an almost-bounce in his step as he walked over to him. That silly grin of his always gave him away.
Warrick smiled, playing the coy one. "I take it we got another dull night ahead of us?"
Nick's smile disappeared. A mask of seriousness slipped on, and Warrick knew that his partner was all riled up by something. The case in the file folder was not going to be a good one.
"We've got an unidentified child in an alleyway. I'm supposed to grab you and Greg to handle it."
The taller CSI took a deep breath and prepared his mind for the death
of another young victim. "I'll drive. Greggo can get in the back seat."
Nick tucked the files under his arm and signaled for his partner to follow him. Both criminalists went down the hall and headed for the parking lot. Bobby Dawson came bounding down the hall, breathless.
He cut into their path. "Good, glad I stopped you before you headed to
that scene."
Nick looked at the other man. He placed his hand along the hallway wall and leaned on it. "What'cha need?"
"That slug from the Anderson case came from an antique colt .45, a very rare gun. Must date back to before World War II."
Warrick was intrigued but impatient with this distraction. He glanced over at Nick, who was focused on the weapons expert. Warrick cleared his throat in an attempt to hurry the other CSI, but Nick didn't pay any attention to him. Bobby was still rattling on about the need to find another gun for analysis. Warrick noted wearily that this wasn't really their problem to contend with.
Nick fixed the ballistics expert with an exasperated look. "All right, I get it. You need another Colt...ahhh....." Nick stopped trying to recall the exact model. "You need another gun," he amended.
"Yeah, the gun's worth like close to five grand. I need your signature for authorization to borrow one from the Vegas Weapons' society to run a comparison." The frantic man shoved a form in Nick's hands.
The criminalist looked at it perplexed, but exuded calmness. "Yeah, ah ... sure." Nick scribbled his name to the form and handed it back, arching an eyebrow. "We borrow stuff from them all the time....right?"
Bobby snatched up the slip. "Oh, yeah sure. I mean there's nothing to worry except maybe some insurance issues. But, yeah no problems that should arise." Then the tech was off like a shot down the hallway.
Warrick now stared at his partner, his face furrowed in confusion. "Nick. Why did you just sign off on that?"
The Texan tried to hide his pleasure of leading his partner on for a while. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. I'm shift supervisor, while Griss and Cath are gone. So, that's bossman to you, Rick."
Nick winked at his bewildered coworker. Warrick snorted loudly. "Oh, hell no."
Nick just smiled. "Come on, let's grab Greggo and get to the scene."
The two rounded a corner when Jacqui grabbed Nick's shoulder and led him into her lab. Warrick watched in amusement as she rattled off another round of complications from some case. Nick seemed like he got a handle on the situation before being allowed to leave.
The partners were stopped two more times before they finally found Greg
Sanders. The trio slipped out of the building before Nick could be hounded again with another set of problems.
Warrick slipped his keys into the ignition and looked over at the other man, who was on his cell phone trying to track down Sara Sidle to update her about something that Trace had found on her case.
'Nick Stokes is about to learn the wonders of middle management.' Warrick hid a secret smile as he drove over to the scene.
***********************
Nick turned around in his seat to speak face to face with Greg Sanders. The newest CSI had passed his first proficiency test only a month
previously. He was still learning the ropes for field work, and needed to be as mentally prepared as possible for what to expect.
Greg looked up at his colleague studying him with a wistful expression. Greg adjusted his tie, something he wasn't quite comfortable with. He wore one of his newly purchased suits, a jacket that was too big, and solid colored button up shirt that felt a bit too normal for his taste.
"So, how old is the victim?" he asked in a hushed tone.
Nick kept his body twisted somewhat uncomfortably, to keep the younger man in his line of sight. "We don't know his age." Nick clicked his teeth together. "First thing you need to do is to keep yourself detached. Don't concentrate on his face, or imagine what he might have been like, alive."
Greg stared ahead as his colleague's voice drifted into softer tones.
"It's just a smaller body, another victim who needs us to concentrate on the assignment."
Greg nodded, his voice not quite working. He'd been on cases involving dead children when he was in the lab. He'd been on the other side of things, technical breakdowns of blood, chemicals, and DNA. However, he'd never been closely involved with the body, to the smells and sights of young innocence lost. Greg fiddled with his hands.
Nick twisted his neck to one side, loosening stiff muscles. "Take deep,
steady breaths. If you need some fresh air, just step away and refocus your thoughts."
"All right." No snappy comments. Greg could almost hear the inner thoughts of his coworkers. Pure mental preparation. Distraction and concentration. He hoped he could assimilate that same kind of deep focus, without the horror of the crime overshadowing his duty.
Warrick pulled onto a side street. The bouncing red and blue lights of
patrol cars flashed in different time intervals from each other. The trio pulled out their kits, and walked stoically towards the yellow tape that flapped in the chilly air.
Jim Brass, his face as unreadable as granite, simply waited for them to
approach. He glanced behind his back, his eyes cold and still, a pure
reflection of the climate of the evening. "Victim was found in the alley by a store owner. Annie Wilke, age 65, found him when she was taking out the trash. She dialed 911 immediately."
Nick saw David crouched over a small, lifeless form several feet away. "No, eyewitnesses? No one saw a thing?"
The Captain shook his head in the negative. "No reports of a disturbance. This scene... it's... it's strange."
Warrick rubbed the fingers of his left hand together. "What about it?"
Jim shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. "Take a look for yourself."
Nick and Warrick approached the body first, each placing their kits to the side so they could take in the area. David stepped away, his face drawn tight and expressionless in the low lighting.
"My preliminary COD is exsanguination. His throat's been cut. I'd say he's been dead less than an hour." David kept his head down, his words floated out quietly in the air.
Nick crouched down, slipping on his gloves. The smacking sound of latex from two other sets of hands echoed behind him. A young boy lay on his side, his eyes open, the dull blue iris glazed over. The blood from a large wound across his throat stained the beige blanket beneath him. The crimson pool spread past the fabric and into the street.
The child's hair lay in his own blood, his mouth partially open as if
suddenly surprised. His right arm was straight out in front of him, his left curled protectively around a small purple stuffed donkey. Even the precious toy had not been spared from being soiled.
The smell of copper perpetuated the air, meaning that the crime was fresh. The blood seemed moist around the pajama top, but the child's legs were still dry. Warrick's feet crunched along the loose asphalt as he walked behind the body, his eyes searching for any disturbances or clues.
Greg remained still; he never took his eyes off the child's face, whose
complexion continued to ashen right in front of him.
"Body's clear for you guys." David explained, breaking the silence.
Nick stayed on his haunches, his eyes darting around the shadows. "All
right. Warrick, see if you can find any trace of how he got here. Tire
tracks, shoe prints, anything to indicate who was here."
Warrick glanced around, noting the debris that littered outside the narrow area behind the store lots. His lips twitched. "Lot of trash around here, but I'll see what I can do."
Nick turned and looked over his shoulder. "Greg, I want you to take photos of the body. Document from several angles. Then we'll move him, see if there's anything we can find."
"What about identifying him?" Greg asked tentatively.
Nick motioned his head in the direction of the small DB. "He's in his PJ's. I doubt he has any school identification on him. We'll have to wait till we can take his prints and run them past the school systems'. Then we'll scour any missing person's reports from the last twenty-four hours."
The younger man shuddered while keeping his breathing even. He looked over at his coworker, who nodded for him to continue. The camera shutter's clicking was the only sound in the silent alley.
Nick shined his flashlight around the blanket and the surrounding ground searching for trace. Each man worked in silence for a long while.
"What are your instincts telling you about the position of the body?" Nick questioned. He wanted to get Greg used to asking things, trying to
investigate every avenue while the body was still present.
Greg moved around in a circle, taking in the dark blue cotton, clothes. The blanket was spread out carefully. "He was killed here. There's a large amount of blood."
"Castoff?" Nick asked.
Greg looked at the wall, and noted the splatter of blood drops. He took
several photos. Then he knelt down to inspect the wound closer. "Is it okay to move him now?"
Nick tentatively placed his gloved hand on the boys' face, and closed the eyelids. His fingers lingered on the child's cheek, the skin was still warm. Nick removed his hand. "Yeah," he said softly.
David came over with a stretcher, ready to transport the boy back to the lab for an autopsy. The Assistant Coroner carefully placed his hands under the body, and lifted the child carefully, the little boy's arms falling to his sides. Nick shined his flashlight around the now empty blanket, not noticing anything besides the blood pool.
Nick stood up, and Greg slowly made his way next to his coworker. The other criminalist pointed down. "Someone took great care on spreading the blanket around, every inch of it is flat."
"The-the stuffed animal. The killer had to bring it with him," the young criminalist observed.
"The little boy might have not gone anywhere without it. Go ahead and bag it. Might be some initials somewhere on it." Nick moved aside as Greg gathered the toy up.
He inspected the tag and noticed two letters scribbled on it. "JT" He said out loud.
Nick looked at the ex-tech. "It's a start. Let's finish up our collection."
The three criminalists worked in literal silence and gathered what little solid evidence they could find. It was as if the poor child had appeared from nowhere and was dumped without a single thing left behind from the murderer. Nick would occasionally ask Greg several things to get the younger CSI's mind focused on the case. They gathered up the blanket, and canvassed the surrounding area, then moved around in an expanding circumference in their search.
Warrick wandered over towards the temporary supervisor. "I didn't find
anything other than trash from one of the cans. I did find a partial set of large prints and I doubt they match the older lady who discovered the body."
Nick processed the information. "Where were they?"
"Several feet from the fence that leads to the side of the store. Gate was unlocked, and it leads to another side street. Easy access in and out. Print was near the fence door. There's a lot of crushed up rock over there, puddles around. Someone stepped in water, then in some of the rock. Made a partial impression in the dust."
Nick wandered over towards the fence and then poked his head around. He
noticed the small side street that was cast in shadows. There were no street lights around. He walked down till he reached the main street, and studied the surrounding buildings. Warrick came up behind him, his eyes matching his partner's in a search of the area.
"I came down here when I was looking for tire tracks. Didn't see any
buildings that might hide any kind of surveillance cameras. No banks, gas stations, or traffic units around."
Nick imagined a dark car absently cruising around the main strip, then
pulling into the alley way. Some shadowy figure walked down, went past the gate and killed the little boy. No one the wiser, no eyes to witness the crime.
Nick shook his head. "Our suspect must know this area. How else did he know that it was hidden back here?" Nick looked at the other criminalist.
Warrick agreed. "Familiarity with this location. Maybe our killer works or lives near by. Might want to get someone banging on doors in the morning. See if anyone has noticed anyone suspicious in the area lately, sneaking around out back."
Nick stripped off his gloves, bagged them and put them in the pocket of his vest. The CSI stretched and bent at the waist. "Let's head back to the lab. Greg and I'll process the blanket and the toy. See if you can get something off those shoe prints."
Warrick looked doubtful. "It's a shot in the dark, man."
Nick shrugged and looked over at Greg who now stood next to him.
The younger man was obviously shaken by the scene. "I guess we'll get the autopsy in a few hours?"
"Depends on how backed up the Doc is." Warrick responded.
"I'll have Brass check those missing children's reports. When the body
arrives, let's get his prints and start running them against all the local school systems that participate in the community ID program." Nick gathered up his kit and started towards the SUV.
Greg remained behind alongside Warrick. "How do you guys.....I mean, how do you get used to this?"
Warrick turned to look at him, his face passive. "You don't. You deal with it, keep your wits about ya. Then you channel everything into the case."
Greg looked down at his feet and then back up. "You and Nick just seem so collected."
"It's called detachment, Greg. Something you'll learn."
Nick was far enough ahead of his coworkers that he got to the trunk of the vehicle. He put his kit away, and stole a moment to gather his racing thoughts. He tried pushing aside the images of those hollow, glassy eyes. There was a sense of absolute horror reflected in those dead orbs. Nick bit his lip and pushed aside the anger roaring throughout him.
He took a few seep calming breaths, his hands tightening into fists. Then he opened the passenger door as the rest of his coworkers put away their own collections and supplies. Nick slid into his seat and stole a glance in the passenger mirror as his colleagues got into the vehicle. His own brown eyes were darker; they glistened with a hot, fierce intensity.
Nick squeezed the armrest tightly, but then relaxed his body somewhat.
"Good job out there, Greg." His voice was calm and steady without any
indication of his easily hidden feelings.
"Thanks."
The car drive back to the lab was done in relative silence.
Chapter 2
Chapter 2
**********************************************************
Nick had barely been back at the Lab when Mia had tracked him down, as he dropped off film from the scene. He told Greg to start his analysis of the stuffed toy, while Warrick took the shoe prints to work on, without a word. The two partners really didn't need any spoken communication. After working side by side for over six years, they knew each other's routines and dividing up the case was second nature.
It was obvious that Mia was fuming over something, so the temporary shift leader took her a side. "Something on your mind?" he asked.
"Oh, you can say that." The fiery lab tech huffed and tapped her pristine finger nails on the glass of one of the windows of the cubicle.
Nick lifted his eyebrows, waiting for her to get her emotions under control. He really wanted to get back to his current case, but Mia was one of "his" employees.
"It's Hodges." She seethed.
Nick lifted his head in expectation.
"I can put up with his comments since I just ignore him. His lab side manner is competent, but I swear, Nick. That man needs to give me some space. I try to keep an organized, tidy area- MY area," she emphasized.
Nick nodded, trying to follow her train of thought.
"He's contaminating everything with all of his projects. Samples, paper
work, chemicals everywhere. The man's even encroaching on my shelves and my work counter." Mia tapped her foot constantly as she fumed to Nick.
Nick held out his hands. He really didn't have time for this. "Mia... Mia," he said trying to get her to quiet enough to listen. "I'll talk to Hodges. Tell him to respect your space."
Nick knew how compulsive the female tech could be. Just by agreeing to hold the snarky man accountable for whatever she deemed offensive would allow him to cut the conversation short.
"It's more about respect, Nick." Mia fixed him with her brilliant eyes.
"He's insatiable sometimes. What am I saying? All the time. I really think he does it to push my buttons."
"Then don't let him," Nick stated. "Don't give him that power over you.
Ignore the guy, we all do."
It was obvious that she wasn't pleased with his solution. Nick placed his hand on her shoulder trying to lull her. "I'll make sure he gets the message, all right?"
Mia seemed to think about it. "Fine. Just talk to him. Tonight."
Nick grinned. "I will."
The tech, walked away briskly without another word, and Nick shook his head. Personal problems. He had work to do and he had to play referee. He'd consult the playground bully in a little while. The CSI searched out Greg Sanders. The ex-tech should have had time to start processing the stuffed donkey.
*****************************
Nick found the younger CSI focused over a microscope. The small stuffed
animal lay on a tray; several samples of fibers were tagged and neatly
organized. Nick studied the little toy for a moment; his eyes focused on how much of a small child's affections were bestowed on such an item. Maybe the animal had been a favorite, something the boy couldn't go to bed without. Or perhaps it was a gift from his parents, a couple now frantic and worried about the safety of a son.
Nick's jaw tightened. He was going to have to destroy someone's life
tonight, watch it shatter into a million pieces. Sometimes he felt like the Grim Reaper, carrying the message of death onto others.
"Come up with anything on the toy?"
Greg peered up, and placed his hands along the edge of the counter. "It's definably old. It wasn't bought recently. The hair is worn away in spots, the color slightly faded."
"Means the suspect didn't buy the toy to calm down the boy," Nick reasoned.
Greg nodded. "I swabbed a dozen areas, and found a small hair sample. It's blonde so it might be the kid's. I'll wait to get a comparison from Doc Robbins, when he's done."
Greg scrunched his face while he contemplated his next question. "Why do you think the killer brought the toy to a dump site?" Greg tried not to look sheepish.
Nick picked up on the hesitation. "It's all right to ask the 'why?' questions, Greg. But I don't know. When we find the parents maybe they can help us figure out if there was any significance. There was care taken in how the boy was presented." Nick gritted his teeth. "However, let's focus on the 'how', all right?"
The ex-tech nodded silently.
Nick turned to exit the room, when Sara Side almost bumped into him.
"Hey, Nick." There was no hostility in her tone. If she didn't accept the fact that Nick was in charge without any competitive issues, then she wasn't showing it.
"I just came back from the morgue with my case. Doc wanted me to give you the clothes from your DB." Sara handed the other criminalist the plastic baggie that contained the small pajamas.
Nick took the items from her hands. "How's your case coming along? I thought you and O'Reilly had a suspect in custody?"
Sara's body stiffened, transforming into a defensive posture. Nick didn't want to appear as if he was breathing down her neck and changed his question. "I mean, you were down at the morgue." He raised an eyebrow in question.
Sara relaxed, slightly. "We had Botts in for questioning, but the poison we found in his secretary's food, and the chemicals he had access to his lab, don't jibe. I went down to talk to Robbins to see if there was perhaps a combination we might be missing."
Nick listened while he squeezed the evidence bag in his hands. He tried to ignore a small voice in his head, telling him that something wasn't right. "Good. Just keep me informed on any changes. Botts is a chemist, he might have used a compound that broke down into components that can't be identified as a normal poison."
Sara was agreeing with him. "Already on it. See you later," she waved as she went back down the corridor of the lab.
Nick held himself rigidly, as his fingers clasped the smooth plastic, the clothes rubbing on the inside. He caught Greg staring at him from the corner of his eye and Nick turned and headed for a work area that wasn't already occupied.
He found a small examination room, and donned one of the light blue lab
coats. He strolled over to a box of latex gloves, slapped a pair on and then proceeded to take the pajama top and bottoms out of the plastic. He read the evidence label, listing out the articles collected before the autopsy took place. Doc Robbins' handwriting was clear and legible. One shirt top with dinosaurs on the front and a solid pair of footed blue bottoms. Nick laid each item on the table. He adjusted one of the lamps, by pulling the bright bulb closer.
Nick knew that addling more brightness to the clothes wasn't going to make the situation any more correct. He fingered the PJ's, his mind wrestling with the fact that the little boy's underwear was missing. Nick rolled his shoulders as the bile burned the back of his throat. His brain was sending all sorts of danger signals, but right now he needed to see if he could find any trace off these nightclothes.
Jim Brass was hitting the computers for any missing child reports, so he would concentrate on something that was in front of him. Nick began the process of searching for any trace of the killer. He started with the ALS to search for any fluids, and then made swabs in hopes of finding any epithelials. Then he would begin the task of lifting any fibers.
Nick spent the next hour with the clothes. All the while the nagging in his head was starting to get louder, and harder to ignore.
*********************
Nick was taking notes from his lack of findings from the pajamas. He
had already put the clothes in a cardboard box that housed all the
evidence in the case so far. The container was virtually empty; never a good sign in an investigation, but the night was still young. He flipped through the pages when Warrick knocked to signal his presence and entered.
Nick adjusted his weight on the stool and looked up at him. "Get anywhere with the shoe prints?"
Warrick threw down some photos and forms, then shrugged his shoulders.
"Prints were a size 11 Adidas. Very popular brand. It's the third best
selling walking shoe for the company. Other than that, I got nothin'."
Warrick stood over the other CSI and stole a look at his notes. "What about you? Anything?"
Nick grunted. "Not much. No trace of anything on the clothes. I'm still
waiting for Greg's analysis of the toy. He found a hair on it, but my gut tells me it'll belong to the kid."
Nick put the pictures of the clothes and laid it out for his coworker to view. "I'm guessing the John Doe is about 8." Nick looked up at the other man. "His underwear is missing."
Warrick followed his partner's train of thought. "He might not wear any. Kids take that stuff off all the time, but yeah. The implications aren't very good."
"Yeah. I've got someone running his prints with the school system. But so far, nothing." Nick didn't feel any closer to finding out the child's name.
"He might not attend any of the schools that are involved in that program. It's not mandatory in all districts." Warrick offered, feeling like the local administrations didn't do enough to help keep track of their own school children.
Nick got up and stretched his back. He looked at his watch. "I think Doc should be done with the preliminary autopsy by now. Our kid was the next on his table." Nick regretted the casualness of his voice.
"I'm going to take Greg with me. He needs to experience the whole case from beginning to end."
Warrick gathered his findings. "I'm meeting Brass over at the station; give him a hand on those missing kids' reports. I'll take your photos with me. See if we can track down a lead."
Both men set off in different directions, each with the same common goal.
*****************************
Nick stood outside the morgue, watching Greg Sanders walk slowly down the hall. The young man played with the buttons of his lab coat, as he
approached the other criminalist.
Greg folded his arms across his chest, and stared at the door. "We, ah,
waiting for something?"
Nick cleared his throat. "I just thought you might one to take a few seconds to prepare yourself."
Greg tried to look indifferent. "I've handled autopsies before. No problem." He said, his voice as normal as possible. His eyes spoke differently, there was uncertainly there.
Nick put his hand on the other man's shoulder. "This will be different and you wouldn't be human if it wasn't. Ask questions, pay attention. But most of all, let me know if you are handling it alright."
Greg looked pensive, but nodded. Nick knew that the youngest of the team was really trying, but he was still a rookie. As much as Greg needed to learn, he needed to take these steps seriously and be straightforward with him.
Nick pushed open the heavy, metallic door, and stepped into a room that
filled his nostrils with smells of chemicals, blood, and the decay of death. He wandered into the chilly, dark room, his feet taking him towards the middle of it. A light hung down over a lifeless little body.
Doc Robbins seemed like he was in his own world, staring down at the boy. The image of the kid's face was projected onto a computer screen next to the doctor's left. A sheet covered the child all the way to his waist. The sickly white flesh tone made Nick's skin crawl.
Both men gave the older man in the room a few moments and then Nick made his way over. His footfalls alerted the coroner that he was no longer alone.
"Nick." The older man focused his attention on the other CSI. "Greg."
Nick knew there was no room for small talk. He looked down at the John Doe; the boy barely took up half the table.
"Do you have any preliminary findings?" Nick asked, his voice soft and low.
The coroner pointed at the large cut that went from right below his jaw
line, all the way across the boy's throat. "COD from exsanguination, single large blade across the jugular. Death was within minutes."
Greg studied the slit in the kid's throat. He tried to keep his now queasy stomach at bay from the violence and cold-bloodedness of such an evil act. Other than that terrible mark, the boy's face was void of any signs of bruises, or other cuts. The simple expression of innocence. He tried to keep his feet still and keep from moving around too much.
The coroner continued with his summary. "Rigor and liver temp indicates the boy has been dead less than four hours. David put time of death under an hour from when you arrived at the scene."
Nick nodded. "Any designative marks?"
Greg darted his eyes from his coworker to the doctor. The coroner, fixed both men was an even stare. "No. I searched for any signs of physical trauma. No bruising on his arms or legs. Nothing on his chest." Dr. Robbins adjusted his glasses, the pause alerting both CSIs of bad news.
"My initial exam went forward and I discovered bruising around his groin area." The coroner maintained a detached voice.
Nick stiffened; he held his breath to try to resist the urge to lose his cool. He had to remain professional at all times. "Anything else?"
Doc Robbins nodded. "Signs of sodomy, tearing around the anus, and a lot of deep bruising. I'll perform a SART examine in a little while."
Nick looked over at Greg, who stared straight in front of him, the young man's body tense. Nick waited to see if the other CSI would ask any questions of his own, but the other man remained mute. Nick turned to face the older man. "How fresh is the trauma?" His accent was heavy as he tried to keep his voice calm.
"Less than twenty-four hours. I'll be searching for signs of repeated
abuse."
Nick took in the added information and turned to his colleague. "Compare the hair off the toy with a sample of the boy's. I want to know if it belongs to him, or perhaps our suspect."
Greg blew out a breath and headed out of the morgue. Nick could tell from how quickly the younger man dashed towards the door that he could not get out there fast enough. Nick glanced back at the coroner.
Doc Robbins looked at the young criminalist before him. "Do you want to
process the body?"
When the doctor was greeted by silence, he looked down at the little boy. "Don't worry, I'll handle it."
"Let me know when you get the rape kit results back." Solemnly the CSI
exited the lab and stood in the hallway.
This particular corridor was the quietest part of the building; very little traffic came though this area. Nick leaned against the wall, the smooth stone a solid reinforcement for his back. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, allowing himself to mourn another dead kid. He was glad Doc Robbins had offered to do the evidence collection. Nick really didn't want to search for defensive wounds, or do any hair and fiber collection from the boy's fingernails and body.
He collected himself and walked with a flourish back to the lab. He wasn't going to let the trail get cold for this child. He would find out who he was, and what monster was behind the tragedy.
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Tbc....
