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Post by themusicalpoet on Jul 18, 2005 0:55:42 GMT 1
UNREASONABLE LOGIC
Gil Grissom sat at his desk, his eyes pouring over a large bulky book entitled “The Decomposition of Entomology: Insects and Forensics”. His face was dimly lit by the sparse lighting in his office giving it an eerie blue undertone. Around him on his desk were several cases; some unsolved, and some waiting to be signed off as complete. His walls were lined with shelves, jars, images of crime scenes, insects, various biological specimens, art, and other things that held his interest. Simply by entering his office, it was easy to see that Gil Grissom was no ordinary CSI and certainly no ordinary man.
He was wearing headphones, playing the music much louder than usual to compensate for the gradual loss of his hearing. He could not hear CSI Catherine Willows enter over Puccini’s La Boheme and the soprano voice of the sad and graceful Mimi pounding against his eardrums.
Catherine leaned her elbows on Grissom’s desk. She smiled half-heartedly and asked, “Is the fat lady singing?” Grissom did not look up at her but continued sifting through the hefty book beneath his hands. Catherine made a face. “Hey, Grissom?”
“There is no fat lady in La Boheme, Catherine, and it’s not over.” Grissom reluctantly removed his headphones and looked up at her, cocking an eyebrow. Unsure of what to say, Catherine sat down at the seat in front of his desk and handed him a file.
“We’re stuck on a case. A thirty-two year old woman was found dead in her weekend home on a beautiful ridge in the mountains. She’d been there for several days before she was discovered. Her house was kept at a consistent temperature, she had plenty of food, no health problems, no drug use. We examined her body but we were unable to find any reasonable cause of death.”
Grissom looked thoughtful for a moment. “Did they find any evidence of strangulation, choking, unfamiliar substances in the digestive tract? You know I once heard of a case where a victim choked on a material that dissolved in her stomach acid once it fell through her oesophagus.”
Catherine looked doubtful and shook her head. “No, Doc Robbins did a thorough autopsy on the victim and he came up empty-handed. She was in good health, and had no enemies according to her husband.”
“Where was he?” Grissom inquired.
“He said he was away on some business for a week when he came back to this. This case is going nowhere, Gris.” She sighed.
“What about the unreasonable.”
“I beg your pardon?” Catherine said.
“The unreasonable. You said you couldn’t find any reasonable cause of death.” Grissom tilted his head, his eyes concealing the wisdom that he refrained from giving away all at once.
Catherine laughed. “Right.” She turned to leave but stopped herself. She looked back at him. “Why opera?”
Grissom, who had returned to his book, looked up once again, his eyebrows arched high on his forehead. “Because it bugs me.”
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Post by themusicalpoet on Jul 18, 2005 0:59:19 GMT 1
A POET BY NATURE
Catherine Willows, Warrick Brown, and Sara Sidle found themselves on the long trip up into the mountains surrounding Las Vegas. They pulled into a rocky driveway off of which many large, beautiful homes were scattered. The area was completely deserted as Brass had sealed it off as part of the crime scene. I hate to ruin peoples’ weekend, he’d said, to which Warrick had replied, That’s the price of ruining somebody's life.
“I’ll check the house again,” Catherine said authoritatively. “Warrick, could you check the other houses in the area and see if you can find any evidence that might help us? Sara—”
“I’ll check the premises around the house."
“Good.”
The CSI’s went about their separate jobs, each one heading in different directions. It was strangely quiet for a mid-afternoon. There were no birds singing, no animals nearby, and no cars passing on the driveway beyond the closed-in area. Catherine retraced her steps inside, hopelessly trying to find an explanation for the woman’s death. Warrick too searched to no avail, walking tirelessly under the afternoon sun.
Sara, however, had found indents in the grass indicating footprints. She followed them precariously as she always did in the anticipation of finding another body. She didn’t find another body, but something did catch her eye amidst the green stocks. Kneeling down in the prickly foliage as she removed her shades, she found a gold bracelet with a section of inscribed band. She put on some gloves and held it in her palm. The shiny gold glistened in the sunlight. The inscription read:
O For Ever More Shadow Velter
Sara stared at the bracelet, perplexed by is codical meaning. She looked up from her find and saw that she was standing on the edge of the ridge overlooking Las Vegas. It was a breathtaking sight to see the lively city in its entirety. It occurred to her that it must look phenomenal at nighttime. At that moment, her cell phone rang in her pocket. She jumped, the serenity of her surroundings abruptly disturbed.
“Yeah?” she answered.
“Nature’s first green is gold, her hardest hue to hold,” rang the baritone voice on the other end. “Hey, Grissom,” Sara replied warily. “What’s that from?” “It’s a poem, Sara. It’s by Robert Frost, a great twentieth-century American poet. He wrote a lot about natural beauty and the things he saw around him. It turns out that our vic, Eve Romero, was an active environmentalist.”
“How does that help the case?” Sara inquired.
“Las Vegas is no place for an environmentalist, Sara. It turns out that she was on a yearlong group assignment to help raise environmental awareness in the city. She and her husband bought the house, and the other houses in the area were purchased, or rented rather, by the other members of the same group.”
“So,” Sara paused to think, “Eve’s neighbours all knew each other, and they all knew her. Were there any disagreements between any of the group members?”
“I don’t know yet. Brass has brought a few of them in for interrogation. How are things on your end.”
Sara let out a long sigh. “Dunno, Gris, Catherine seems pretty stressed out about this. Normally there’s a when, a how, a who, and a why, but right now it seems we’re fumbling with just a how.”
“Talk to me back at the lab,” Grissom said, and the connection ended.
She pocketed her cell phone, threw on her shades and continued to admire the vista. Warrick and Catherine wandered over just as soon as she could gather her thoughts. She turned around, surprised once again by a disruption in the tranquility.
“Find anything, you guys?” Sara asked as she folded her arms across her chest.
Warrick shifted his weight onto his right foot. “Well, it turns out that these people are all part of an environmentalist group called RES: Real Environmentalist Supporters. They’re identified by small, tree-shaped stickers on their front doors. Looks like they’re the real deal.” He looked over at Catherine whose gaze was fixed on the object in Sara’s hands.
“What’d you find?” she asked.
Sara had almost forgotten. She held out her gloved hand to her two fellow CSI’s. “It’s inscribed. I think it could be an anagram or a code.”
Catherine observed the inscribed writing on the gold band. “Well, the letters in the top line can be rearranged to spell Eve Romero. As for the rest of it, well…” She looked over at Warrick who shrugged his shoulders.
Sara bagged the bracelet. “I’ll get this to Archie.”
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Post by themusicalpoet on Jul 18, 2005 1:33:38 GMT 1
THE RIFTS BETWEEN
Hours later, Catherine, Warrick, and Sara arrived at the lab. Warrick resolved to work on an ongoing case while Sara and Catherine stopped to see Archie. They walked purposely down the hallway and passed Brass who was on his way to Grissom’s office.
They arrived in Archie’s lab and handed him the bagged bracelet. They explained what they knew of the situation to him, reiterating where they found it and describing its environmentalist context.
“I’ll let you know when I have something,” Archie replied and immediately began to crack the code.
Catherine went out into the hallway and leaned her head against the wall. Frustration creased her face, a torrent of confusion riddling her mind. Sara walked over to her, concern on her face.
“You all right, Cath?” she asked. Catherine nodded slowly but her eyes revealed her true feelings. She turned to walk away before the tears came to her eyes. “You know, it’s OK if we can’t get this right now. We’re doing our best.” When Catherine didn’t turn around, she added, “You may want to take a day off.”
Catherine turned on her heel and came striding towards Sara, tears in her eyes. “Something’s missing here, Sara. The evidence doesn’t lie but we don’t even have any evidence to work with. I’m not about to take time off when a dead girl lies on a slab in the morgue with no clear explanation as to how she got there. We’ve got to keep working the case.”
“This isn’t about the case though, is it?” Sara said. “There’s something else going on here. Do you want to talk about it?”
Catherine opened her mouth to speak but was at a loss for words. She ran her fingers through her hair and closed her eyes for much longer than a blink. “I’m going for dinner,” she said with finality and walked past Sara who stood helplessly looking after her.
Grissom stood hovering over a microscope in a well-lit part of the lab. His long, white coat hung loosely about him and his glasses slid down his nose from time to time. He stirred slightly when he felt Sara’s presence in the door behind him.
“Hey,” she said, trying to add a light sound to her voice. She walked towards Grissom with her hands in his pocket. “What’s under the ‘scope?”
“Take a look,” he said, backing away and letting her through.
She peered through the lenses. “Two hairs,” she notes. “The one of the left looks like human hair. This one on the right isn’t, though. Is it a dog's?”
“It is. Looks like Nick and Warrick are going to have try and find another way through their maze of cases.” Grissom stands back, silently observing Sara’s face as she stares through the microscope. “I heard about the bracelet. I thought you might want to know that Brass has some pretty interesting results with his interrogation.” Sara looked at him, waiting for him to finish. Grissom walked out of the room and towards his office. “Looks like most of the group noticed heated arguments between Eve and her sister, Ava. Both part of the same organization, but one would never know they were from the same family.”
Sara considered the information momentarily. “The husband should have known about this. Why didn’t he mention it during his questioning?”
Grissom sat down behind his desk and peered over the rim of his glasses at her. “Maybe he did know.”
“He’s hiding something,” Sara concluded. “Two sisters, Eve and Ava, arguing… possibly over a love interest. The husband?” She searched Grissom’s eyes for feedback.
“Her early leaf’s a flower, but only so an hour.”
“Is that Frost again?” Sara asked.
Grissom nodded. “Frost wrote about the seasons and their changes. Something that once was may not stay that way forever; even things that are truly wonderful.”
“Something came between those girls,” Sara spoke more quickly now. “I’m going to find out what.” She raced out of Grissom’s office on a sure-footed path to speak with Brass.
“You’re beautiful when you figure it out on your own,” Grissom said quietly as he watched her leave. Her shook his head and busied himself with the piles of papers on his desk.
The sun was setting on another lost day.
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Post by themusicalpoet on Jul 18, 2005 4:38:06 GMT 1
LIES ALL LIES
“Have you seen this bracelet before, Bruce?” Jim Brass said as he threw down the evidence bag on the table in the interrogation room. Bruce Romero shifted in his seat, his expression pained and uncomfortable. Sara stood quietly in the shadows by the wall, her arms crossed over her chest.
“I have, sir, yes,” replied Bruce. “I gave it to my wife before we came to Vegas. Where did you find it?”
“Well, that’s the funny thing, Bruce,” Brass said coolly as he leaned on the table. “We found it in the grass by your house, far away from any sort of jewelry box where something like this should be kept. Have you any idea how it got there?”
“I’m not sure,” Bruce said as he gave a forced expression of confusion. Sara came out from the shadows and keenly looked the husband of Eve Romero in the eyes.
“We printed the bracelet and found both your wife and Ava’s prints on the band,” she said matter-of-factly. “Were you aware that there were any problems between them?”
“No, I can assure you I wasn’t. I mean, Ava and Eve weren’t the closest of sisters, but I’ve never known them to fight openly about their issues.” Bruce looked down at his hands which fidgeted on the table. He seemed nervous to Sara. And nerves can get in the way of grieving, she thought to herself.
“Which house was Ava staying in?” Brass asked as he sorted through some papers.
Bruce replied, “She wasn’t exactly staying in a house. She’s been staying at a hotel for the last couple of days.”
"Which one?" Sara asked.
"Uh..." Bruce shifted his gaze from Sara to Brass, and then from Brass to Sara. "The Dwarves Hotel."
“Really?” Brass said. “According to our information, Ava’s been in Las Vegas since RES came to the city, and that’s been a few months. Where was she staying before that?”
Bruce looked very uncomfortable now. “She was staying with Eve and me.”
“Why did she leave?”
“Personal reasons. She never told me.”
Sara, who had been sitting quietly as she listened, stood up and moved closer to Bruce whose brown eyes watered with sweaty tears. “You know, Bruce, I’m not sure I believe you when you say you didn’t know about Eve and her sister. Your wife’s jewelry was mostly silver and now say you got her the gold bracelet? I think you and Ava are closer than you let on.”
“The bracelet was inscribed!” Bruce shouted. “ ‘O Forever More’ is an anagram for ‘For Eve Romero’!”
“What is ‘Shadow Velter’?” Sara shouted back.
“Look,” said Bruce as he pushed back his chair. “I don’t want to continue this conversation without a lawyer.”
“Fine,” said Brass.
As they went to leave the room, Sara turned to the suspect and said, “We’ll find out what you’re keeping from us, Bruce. You can be sure of that.”
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Post by themusicalpoet on Jul 18, 2005 4:40:41 GMT 1
ANAGRAMMATICALLY CORRECT
Catherine Willows felt much better when she’d returned from a long dinner break. She still had a headache, but she managed to effectively block out the pain with her determination to resolve the case. Walking through the halls of the lab, she passed Nick and Warrick who were heading to trace to make progress on their ongoing case. They acknowledged her briefly as she passed. She rounded a corner and made her way to Archie’s lab, hoping that he had managed to decode the anagram.
As she walked, she turned the words over in her head. ‘O Forever More’ can be turned into For Eve Romero, she thought, confirming that each letter had been used. It made sense if Bruce had intended the gold bracelet to be for her, as Brass as informed her on his cellphone during her break. But what did “Shadow Velter” mean? It sounded like a code name, as if it had some other meaning. If it did, it might explain why Eve and Ava had both been handling it before it was been lost.
In the office, Archie looked up from his work. “You’re just in time, Catherine. I’ve come up with two logical anagrams: “Save the World” and “Dwarves Hotel”.
She considered the two rearrangements of the phrase. “ ‘Save the World’ is good advice for an environmentalist, especially from one to another,” Catherine thought aloud.
“Didn’t Brass report that Eve’s sister was staying at the Dwarves Hotel?” Archie asked.
“Yeah,” Catherine said. “I know.” She paused for a moment, her eyes roaming aimlessly; the telltale sign of thought processing. “Thanks, Archie. You’ve been a big help,” Catherine said, and left the room to go find Sara.
“Hey, Gris,” Sara Sidle said as she came from the interrogation room into Grissom’s office. He was reclined in his chair, his head tilted upward as he tapped his pen against his chin. His eyes were squinting and focused, as if they were seeing something surreal other than the things that lined his wall. Sara simply stood in the doorway and leaned up against the frame. It was strange to her that he didn’t respond, but figured it no more than him being typically lost in his thoughts. After a moment, he inhaled deeply and turned towards the door.
“Oh, hi Sara. How are things?” Sara looked confused for a moment, seemed to consider something in her head, and then sat down before Grissom’s desk.
“We’re doing well on the case, I think. Bruce Romero hasn’t admitted to anything yet, but we found inconsistencies with his stories and the evidence.”
“What do you think?” Grissom asked, his lips pouted into a smile.
“I think that he knew there were issues between Eve and Ava, and I don’t think he was out of town last week.”
“Where’s the evidence?”
“Brass is asking members of RES if they knew about Bruce Romero’s business trip, and they’re bringing in Ava Laerton, Eve’s sister, for questioning. If they can attest for Bruce Romero’s whereabouts, we’ll have a stronger hold on this case.”
“That’s good work, Sara.” Grissom said with a smile. “You’re diligent and hard-working. I admire that about you.” Sara was surprised by Grissom’s comments. Things between them had been unusual, but now he was showing signs of bridging the gap in their relationship. Unsure of what to say, she smiled. They held each other’s gazes for a few moments until Catherine walked in and they were jolted from their hypnotized states.
“Sara,” Catherine said, slightly out of breath.
She turned to her, her mouth opening as if to say one thing, and then she said another. “Hi." She sounded almost cold. Catherine looked sheepish for a second, and Grissom watched awkwardly.
“Well, I’ve got more news on the case. Remember how Bruce Romero said that Ava had been staying at the Dwarves Hotel? Well, the letters in ‘Shadow Velter’ can be rearranged to spell ‘Dwarves Hotel’.”
“And,” Grissom added, “ ‘Save the World’.” The two women turned to Grissom in astonishment. He grinned and shrugged. “It’s fairly obvious.”
“Yeah,” Catherine said before turning back to Sara. “Anyways, I think we should check out the Dwarves Hotel and see if they have any information. Maybe you and Warrick could—”
“Actually, I was hoping I could stay for Ava Laerton’s interrogation.”
“I’d rather you went to the hotel.”
“I was there for Bruce Romero’s interrogation," Sara protested. "I think it best that we stay consistent—”
“But it’s my case,” Catherine said with finality. Sara went to speak but thought better of it.
“Fine," Sara said quietly. Catherine turned away, apparently going to update Warrick on the goings on.
Sara started, “Grissom, I—”
“I know,” he said.
“I’m worried about her.” They stared at one another for a moment before she left the office and headed towards the lab's exit. She swung the dooropen and let it slam shut behind her.
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Post by themusicalpoet on Jul 18, 2005 4:42:00 GMT 1
DISTRACTED PROGRESS
At around eleven o’clock, Sara Sidle and Warrick Brown pulled into the parking lot at the Dwarves Hotel. Several shady looking people stood casually conversing out front while smoking cigarettes and cigars. As the CSI’s got out of their cars, the people paid them no notice and carried on in their near incapacitated states. The hotel was small and bright and seemingly in dire need of renovations. Inside, the floor tiles were chipped, the walls yellow with grime, and the air thick with unseemliness.
“Charming place,” Sara commented on their way in.
Warrick hummed a sound of agreement. “Reminds me of that date rape case we did a few months ago. Hopefully this manager has his pants on.”
They approached the front desk and asked a young, blonde-haired man to get the manager of the hotel. As they waited, Warrick held out a photo of Ava Laerton out to him.
“Have you seen this woman in here before?” he asked sternly, his green eyes watching the man's expression intensely.
The clerk studied the photo and confirmed that he had seen her several times in the past week. “She was here with a man,” he said meekly. “They were always hanging off one another, disturbing other hotel visitors and such. Nearly had to have ‘em kicked out.”
“Was this him?” Sara asked, holding up a photograph of Bruce Romero.
He nodded. “That’s the guy.”
A man appeared suddenly behind the clerk, his brow furrowed with ennuis.“How can I help you people?”he asked, clearly wishing to avoid any delay.
“We’re going to need your room records for Ava Laerton,” Sara said to him.
“You need what?” he asked incredulously. “You can’t have that. That information’s confidential. We have a customer policy.”
Warrick raised his eyebrows in annoyance. “You can give them to us now, or we’ll come back later with awarrant. Either way we’ll get them.”
“All right,” the manager agreed reluctantly. He leaned in close to them, his greasy skin shining under the florescent lighting. “But this doesn’t get out. Business is hard enough as it is out here without you people causing a raucous.”
The CSI’s exchanged glances. “We’ll be out of here soon enough if you cooperate,” Sara said. The manager muttered something and turned to log onto the hotel's computer database.
It's only a matter of time, Sara thought. This place is gross, thought Warrick.
After a short period of time, Warrick and Sara were out in the parking lot with their required documents. The nighttime air was thick and humid and Sara wished she could be back at the lab doing the interrogation. Or maybe hovering in Grissom’s doorway waiting for him to look up at herin his usual startled way. “What are you thinkin’ about, Sara?” Warrick asked as they strided towards their car. He had noticed her distant expression and her sad, brown eyes.
“Things,” Sara replied with a sigh. “This case has me in knots. We have our who now, but still no how or why.AndI think it’s really getting to Catherine. She's been different lately. I'm worried.”
“I’ve been worried about her too,” Warrick said with a heavy heart.
Sara eyed him as they walked on. He’d noticed it too so at least she wasn’t alone with her concern. “I don’t think it’s the just the case though," she reasoned. "Catherine isn't like that. She seems… I dunno.”
Warrick continued staring straight ahead. “We all have our days. She’ll work through whatever it is that’s bothering her. Right now, we’re walking the paths of the dead.”
He put his arm around her in a friendly way, but other things weighed on her mind too much to even feel the friendly touch. It was a feeling she’d long forgotten and she had no doubt lost her ability to recognize it when it was there.
They got into the car, the hotel lights flashing behind them as they drove out onto the road and sped off into the darkness.
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Post by themusicalpoet on Jul 22, 2005 8:09:54 GMT 1
ROTTEN APPLES
Ava Laerton sat in the steely light of the interrogation room. Her faded brown hair hung in uneven strands over her eyes. She wore a primrose-coloured tank top and a short, black corduroy skirt. Her arms were folded on top one another on the table. She took a moment to pick at her chipped nail polish and looked up as Jim Brass and Catherine Willows entered the room
“Why I am here?” she posed with a smirk. Brass and Catherine stood unmoving on the other side of the table.
“Do you know what happened to your sister?” Brass asked. She shrugged and began picking at her nails again. “You do understand that someone is dead here, right?” he said with an air of severity.
Her eyes flashed and she looked right at his face. “Look, she kicked me out of her place last week. As far as I’m concerned, whatever happened to her happened for the best. I had nothing to do with it.”
“How do you feel about it?” asked Brass.
“The same way she would feel if it was me in the morgue.”
“But you played no part in it?”
“No,” she said in a rebellious tone. “I didn’t.”
Catherine spoke. “Why did she give you the boot?”
Ava faltered. “Personal reasons.”
“What reasons?” Brass asked sternly.
She glared at them. “Sisters sometimes fight. We’re no different.”
This girl’s hiding something, Catherine thought to herself. She took part in this. She knows what happened. “Do the words ‘O Forever More, Shadow Velter’ mean anything to you?” she asked. Ava shook her head slowly, but her eyes revealed a hidden thought. “Do you recognize this?” Catherine asked as she handed Ava the bag with the golden bracelet in it?”
“No,” she said quietly.
“Really,” Catherine said, amused with disbelief, “because we found your fingerprints on it. We know you’ve seen with and held this bracelet and thus that inscription should have meant something to you.” Ava bit her lip.
“Who did it belong to?” asked Catherine.
“OK, it was Eve’s.” she said with a sigh as she pushed her very straight hair behind her ear. “It was a gift to her from her husband Bruce.”
“Why didn’t you tell us that earlier?” Brass asked.
“I… I…” she stammered.
“You were having an affair with Bruce Romero,” Catherine said.
Ava pouted angrily. “Yeah, so I was. And that’s why she kicked me out. Blah, blah, blah. So what, am I under arrest for that?”
“No,” Brass said. “But you may be for the murder of your sister.”
“I didn’t murder my sister. I’ve been at a hotel. I wasn’t even up in the mountains this past week.”
“Ah, yes,” Brass said. “The Dwarves Hotel, right? Did you know that ‘Shadow Velter’ is the perfect anagram for ‘Dwarves Hotel’? I bet you already knew that though, didn’t you? The question is, which one of you or Bruce thought it up?”
Ava fidgeted slightly with the strap of her tank top. “Like I said, Bruce bought it for Eve. It’s only coincidence that–”
“Uh uh” said Catherine. “There were no coincidences here. You were having an ongoing affair with Bruce Romero. The bracelet was key, and there’s no coincidence as to why or how turned up outside your sister’s house in the grass. It played a key role in your life with Bruce. You bought it.”
“I did not,” Ava protested.
“I think you did,” Catherine continued. “You did because you made a mistake. Eve didn’t like gold; she liked silver. For some reason, you gave it to Bruce and hoped that he would find the anagram of your hotel’s name, maybe to avoid having your sister see you two together.”
“You can’t prove that,” Eve said.
“We can,” Brass said. “With the warrant we’re going to get to search your hotel room.”
“I didn’t kill her.”
“Then you won’t mind us looking around your place, then, will you?” Catherine said.
Suddenly, Warrick knocked on the door of the room and called over to Catherine. “I some information on the case. You’ll want to know this.”
Catherine stood up to leave as Ava asked, “Can I go now?”
“You’re going to go with this gentleman here,” Brass said, motioning to the officer standing behind her. She looked startled as if she’d forgotten he had been there the entire time. He took her to the door and led her down the hallway, Brass following close behind them.
“What’s up?” Catherine asked Warrick once they were alone.”
“The records Sara and I collected from the hotel manager confirm that both Bruce Romero and Ava Laerton had spent time there together. The manager also lent us some surveillance tapes of Ava's hotel room's hallway. The video shows who was in her room and when they were in there.”
“OK. So, what’d you find?”
“Well, here’s the thing. Doc Robbins left a message for me saying that he managed to determine a near exact time of death for Eve Romero. Although he still cannot confidently say what killed her, they found the core of a half-eaten apple in her pocket and did some tests on it.”
“How did they miss that?” Catherine said, concerned about the reliability of her coroners.
“No clue. The point is, based on the state of the apple, she stopped eating it between ten o’clock AM and eleven o’clock AM.”
“She never got the chance to finish it,” Catherine said sadly. “So, you were talking about the hotel videos.”
“Well,” said Warrick. “The videos confirm that Ava Laerton entered her room alone the night before the murder at around one o’clock AM and she never left it until twelve o’clock PM the next day. She’s innocent.”
Damn, thought Catherine. “But Bruce Romero wasn’t with her?”
“No. And I double-checked with the clerk at the hotel. He didn’t see him that day or the previous one.”
“Well,” said Catherine. “Looks like we’ll be needing to talk to one Bruce Romero againvery soon.”
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Post by themusicalpoet on Jul 22, 2005 8:10:20 GMT 1
RULING OUT ROMERO
Sara Sidle hung up the phone the phone in Grissom’s office just as Warrick and Catherine were passing by. She looked over at them awkwardly when they questioned her presence with confused expressions.
“What are you doing in here, Sara?” Catherine asked as she stepped over the threshold.
“Uh,” began Sara, “I was trying to find Grissom. His door was open and his phone rang. I thought it might be about the case so I answered.”
“I guess whoever was calling now thinks your Grissom’s new unofficial secretary,” joked Warrick. Sara glared at him and then half-smiled.
“Well?” said Catherine. Sara looked at her blankly. “What was the call about?”
“I was glad I picked it up. It might as well have been for me. I contacted the lead spokesperson of RES and it turns out that they were having a conference downtown the day of Eve Romero’s death. The conference started at nine o’clock and all members were expected to be there.”
“So, obviously Eve Romero wasn’t there,” stated Warrick. “Did they take an attendance list?”
“I had asked the spokesperson if he could give me a list of the names of the people who weren’t present at the conference,” answered Sara. “He called Grissom with the names and I took them down. Eve Romero was one of them, along with Zieke Flanaghan who was apparently hospitalized after being injured on a nature hike. I asked about Bruce Romero but it turns out he was there just before ten o’clock AM. Everyone who was there spent the night at a hotel in the city.”
“The Dwarves Hotel?” Warrick asked.
“No,” said Sara. “Applesgate Inn. It’s much more to their taste, I think.” Warrick nodded. Catherine looked flustered.
“Hey, Cath, what’s up?” Warrick asked.
She looked at them miserably. “The poor woman was being cheated on, she was fighting for cause that’s very difficult to support, and now she’s dead. We need to know why. We must have missed something.”
Sara furrowed her brow sympathetically. “Catherine, we’ve done the best we can. If you didn’t find anything in the house, and we didn’t find anything around it, and the neighbours weren’t around, then there’s nothing more we can say.”
“Why did she die, Sara?” Catherine asked. “And why don’t we know. It’s our job to know. It’s my job to know.” Her eyes welled. Warrick and Sara looked on helplessly.
“Cath, you might need some time off,” said Warrick.
“That’s the last thing I need,” she retorted and left the two CSI’s standing confused in the hallway. She wasn’t sure where she was going until she was in her car with the engine running.
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Post by themusicalpoet on Jul 22, 2005 8:10:52 GMT 1
LATE NIGHT WITH GIL GRISSOM
Gilbert Grissom could rarely ever be found at home, but Catherine knew he would be there tonight. He had told her that he wanted a night off. It struck her as odd at first, but she often forgot that Grissom was human like the rest of the team. She pulled up to his place and got out of her car. It was a nice place; not too big or too small. It was the kind of place she would want to live if she ever found herself alone. She suddenly wondered if Grissom ever felt lonely.
She knocked on his door and there was no answer. She knocked much harder the second time and he came to the door, his expression revealing both surprise and concern. He was wearing dark pants and a grey t-shirt. It was strange to see him out of his work clothes, but once again she remembered that he was human too.
“Hi, Catherine. Everything all right?” Grissom asked.
“Uh, sure,” she said unconvincingly. “Can I come in?” He stepped back and extended his arm towards the inside of his house. They walked together into his sitting room where Catherine sat down on some cushy upholstery.
“Can I get you something?” Grissom asked feeling slightly exposed in his dress-down attire.
Catherine sucked on her lower lip. “Nah, I’m fine. I just want to talk.”
Grissom’s mouth twitched and he sat on the armchair across from Catherine. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Well,” Catherine said, “first of all you left your office door open.”
He sighed and leaned back into his chair as he reached for the phone on the table beside him. He dialled a number and held the receiver to his ear. Catherine could hear the voice answer on the other end from where she was sitting on the other side of the room. “Hi, Warrick,” Grissom said. “Would you mind closing my office door for me?” He waited. Catherine thought she heard Warrick’s voice say, “I already did.” Grissom half-smiled. “Thanks.” He hung up the phone and looked at Catherine. “Anything else on your mind, or did you come all this way just to tell me my door was open?”
“We haven’t solved the Eve Romero case. We’ve ruled out our two major suspects, plus everyone else in the area. There’s no determinable cause of death and as far as we know, there was no one but Eve at the house when she died.”
“Bruce Romero and Ava Laerton were having an affair, right? Did you confirm that?” Grissom asked.
“We did,” said Catherine. “Ava bought the bracelet to give to Bruce who was supposed to give it to Eve. The bracelet was coded and ‘Shadow Velter’ told Bruce where Ava was staying. Beyond that, I can’t link them or anyone or anything back to the death of Eve.”
Grissom looked equally as frustrated as Catherine. He understood the anxiety that came with not being able to solve a case. “At this point, though,” he said, “there’s not much else we can do. You did your job. You processed the evidence and it told you all it had to say.” A tear slid down Catherine’s face and Grissom watched it drip onto her lap. “This can’t be about the case, Catherine. There’s more going on inside you than just the after effects of a cold case.”
She looked at him with reddened eyes. “I did my job, but did I do a good job? I’ve worked so hard to get to where I am but sometimes I question my own technique. Am I really working up to where I should be if I want to be promoted?”
Grissom could not think anything to say. Everyone questions him or herself, he thought. They usually end up revising and changing for the better.
“There’s more,” Catherine continued. “Lindsay hasn’t been talking to me for a while. She’s been isolated for a long time now and she says it’s because I’m never around to see her. I want to give her everything, but I need that promotion to do that, and I know the promotion will just keep me away from her even more. And if I’m suddenly not solving cases, I can kiss the promotion goodbye altogether. I’m stuck here, Gris. She hates me having this job, or so she tells me. I wonder if she’d be happier if I went back to being a dancer.” Catherine’s voice revealed a hint of bitter sarcasm. “I just don’t know how to manage everything at once.”
Grissom leaned forward on his elbows and watched as Catherine buried her face in her arms. “Where’s Lindsay tonight?” Grissom asked as he got up and walked over to her.
“She’s at a friend’s house,” she replied between sobs. He put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Oh, Grissom, I don’t know what I’m doing here,” she said and continued sobbing quietly. He tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows arched sympathetically.
He went out of the room and returned after a few minutes with a mug of hot tea. Catherine had stopped crying and had fallen asleep on his couch, her head resting on the arm. Her face was warm and damp, her hands balled up into fists so that her tendons appeared clearly defined on the surface of her skin. Grissom left the mug on the table beside the couch and scribbled something on a piece of paper which he left alongside the mug. He went across the room to grab a blanket and hedraped it overCatherine’s sleeping figure. He then went to a nearby light-switch, switched it off, and immersed his house in darkness as he himself stumbled into bed.
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Post by themusicalpoet on Jul 22, 2005 8:11:29 GMT 1
THE MORNING AFTER
Catherine woke up with a slight headache. She rubbed her sore eyes and looked around the room feeling slightly disoriented. You’re at Grissom’s house, a voice in the back of her mind reminded her. “Oh, right,” she said aloud in a groggy morning voice. She found the cold tea on the table beside her and smiled. Then she found the note that was beside it.
She unfolded the paper and read it to herself.
Catherine,
I thought you should know that I think you are both a great CSI and a great mother to Lindsay. Things will work themselves out before too long. In the meantime, I think you should take some time off. Spend some of it with your daughter. You deserve to have a life outside of work.
I’ll be at the lab if you need me.
Gil
Catherine smiled at the letter in her hands. She took the mug of tea and warmed it up in Grissom’s kitchen. After she finished it, she found a piece of paper and scribbled a large "thank you" on it. She left it where she knew he would find it, and then left the house.
She felt better. She felt good. She wasn’t going to work today.
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Post by themusicalpoet on Jul 22, 2005 8:13:48 GMT 1
MUTUAL TENSION
Grissom had taken the night off to get some sleep. He often had to remind himself that even he was human. He went into the lab early the next morning to finish up the work he had left from the evening before. He was glad to see his office door closed when he walked down the hallway. He went inside and settled behind his desk, his mind preparing itself for its daily mental workout.
After his break, on his way back from the lunch room, Grissom caught Sara peering into his office. She heard him approaching and turned around.
“You, uh, left your office door open again…” she said.
Grissom smiled in his subtle way. “Hi, Sara. What’s up?”
“Well, I was actually trying to find you yesterday, and then I ran into Catherine. She seemed very—”
“I know,” Grissom interrupted. “She talked to me.”
Sara looked confused, almost hurt. “She did? I didn’t even think you were here last night. I mean, I looked and then—”
“Sara, I’ve got a lot of work to do,” Grissom said honestly. “Was there something you wanted?” Sara’s mouth moved as if she was going to say something. She caught herself and then looked away, her expression showing dismay. She could only shrug. Grissom looked past her into his office. “I guess you’ll talk to me later then.” He walked in and closed the door.
Sara stood beside the doorway of the office where Grissom couldn’t see her. She leaned up against the wall, her head pounding with a million thoughts. Who killed Eve Romero? What evidence did we miss? How can I get promoted? What was wrong with Catherine? Why could Catherine find him and not me? Why does he sometimes treat me like crap? Then she heard voices echoing in her mind. Since when were you interested in beauty; since I met you, follow the evidence, when was the last time you took a vacation, I couldn’t do it, someone young and beautiful, a new life with her, pin me down, nothing gold can stay. Then it occurred to her.
She went off down the hall, millions of invisible thoughts flowing silently after her.
Grissom sat at his desk, completely unaware of Sara’s presence on the other side of his office wall. He knew she had wanted to say something and that it disappointed her when he cut her off, but he was busy. It could have waited, Gil. But he was afraid of what she had to say. I couldn’t do it. He stood by his words. It hurts to stay silent. He hated hurting her. To ease his mind, he opened up “The Decomposition of Entomology” and let out a heavy sigh. His eyes scanned the pages as his woes faded into the back of his mind; into the recesses where his consciousness rarely dared to venture.
Later in the evening, Warrick found Sara working at her computer. Her fingers worked furiously as she typed, stopping every so often as her eyes scanned the screen. He walked into the room, leaned one arm on the table and put his foot up on the chair beside hers. She didn’t look up. “Have you seen Catherine?” he asked. “We’ve got to call the case.”
She finished typing a sentence and then looked up at him. “Uh, no actually, but I spoke to Grissom. He said he took care of things.”
“Yeah, but where is she? The case file is still on her desk.”
“Catherine’s at home, Warrick,” Grissom’s voice suddenly said from behind them. He was walking past the doorway and had heard them conversing. “I’ll finish up the case, don’t worry about it.” They all stared at one another awkwardly. Warrick felt the tension between Grissom and Sara as if it transmitted between them and through him via an invisible, electric current.
“I, uh, think I’ll go help Nick on that hit and run,” Warrick said as he left the room. Grissom and Sara stood staring at one another.
Grissom started to speak. “Sara, I—”
“We need to go back to Eve Romero’s house,” Sara said suddenly. "It’s pretty windy up in the moutains, right? I think I might know where some evidence could be hiding." Grissom's mouth twitched. Sara smiled."Do you like mountain climbing?”
Grissom cocked an eyebrow. “Sure do.”
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Post by themusicalpoet on Jul 22, 2005 8:14:20 GMT 1
WHERE THE EVIDENCE LIES
Grissom and Sara’s drive up to Eve Romero’s mountain home was pleasant and formal. The CSI’s discussed business as usual, including filling one another in on updates about the Romero case. Grissom explained how Bruce Romero had felt remorse for his actions, or so he’d said in interrogation, and had asked Eve to forgive him on the day of her death. When she didn’t go with him to the conference, he decided to go alone, completely unaware of what was happening at home. Sara spoke of how Ava Laerton was at the hotel at the time of death. The concluded that everyone else in the area was gone, nobody else in the city knew Eve Romero, and there was no plausible cause of death.
After they’d recapped, Sara fell asleep in the passenger’s seat as Grissom drove. He turned the radio on quietly so that he could still hear her soft breathing. To breathe is to be human, Grissom thought as he strained to listen, and to be with someone who is human reminds one’s self that they too are human, and that to love is to be human. Sara shifted in her seat and he turned his head towards her, his eyes shifting back and forth between her and the road. When one focuses too much on the dead, he mused, one forgets how alive are the living what it means to live.
They arrived at the crime scene around eight o’clock. Sara woke, grabbed her kit, and began to walk towards the edge of the cliff upon with the house was situated. Grissom stumbled behind her, his own kit clutched firmly in his arm. The sun was low in the sky and they squinted at the glowing horizon.
Sara peered over the edge of the cliff and scanned the rocks and dirt for what she was looking for. After a few seconds, she called out to Grissom, “Hey! I think we should check down here.” Grissom watched as she put on a harness attached a rope to it. He did the same.
They set up the proper equipment, and soon they were hanging over the edge of the cliff, swinging with a perverse sense of freedom. Sara smiled at Grissom, the orange sun reflecting off of her sunglasses. They got to work, picking through dirt and garbage, trying to find something to tie up the loose ends of the case.
After fifteen minutes, Sara came across a crumpled piece of paper with thick, black writing on it. “Hey, Gris,” she yelled, “I’ve got something.” She read the paper aloud.
Bruce,
Give this gift to Eve and say it’s from you. I left a hidden message in the inscription that will help you find me. I hope to see you soon.
Love, Ava
P.S. Sorry his is so vague, but I don’t want Eve to know about us. She is sort of sensitive.
“One would be,” Grissom said after Sara had finished reciting the note.
Sara considered it for a moment. “So, ‘Shadow Velter’ must have been a new term that Bruce used on his wife; ever since she received the bracelet.”
“Which had to be no more than a week ago, after Ava was kicked out of her house,” Grissom concluded.
“Exactly,” Sara said.
Grissom looked behind him into the West where the sun was sitting right above the horizon, the sky around it turned several hues of orange and pink. “Say, Sara, do you like sunsets?”
Sara grinned. “Who doesn’t?”
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Post by themusicalpoet on Jul 22, 2005 8:15:10 GMT 1
CALLING IT
Against the magnificent, fiery backdrop of the sun setting over Las Vegas, Sara and Grissom’s bodies were merely black silhouettes. They were standing on a cliff further along from where they had searched for evidence, sitting in the Romero’s vast and beautiful garden. The flowers were in bloom and the scent was invigourating.
They were leaning on an intricately patterned wrought-iron fence that allowed for the best possible view. Sara’s eyes took in all that she could see. Grissom, however, could not take his eyes off Sara; the way her hair fluttered in the breeze, the way her soft skin radiated in the crimson light, the way the sun made her deep, brown eyes glow and glisten. He was so taken by the sight that he nearly had to remind himself to breathe.
Sara looked at him suddenly. “Are you OK, Grissom?” she asked.
He blinked hard and shook his head. He nodded to her slowly. “Yeah, I am.”
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Sara said as she turned back to face the dying sun. “I can see why she wanted to fight to preserve such beauty.”
“Actually,” Grissom pointed out, “the colours you sometimes see in a sunset are partially due to the pollution in the air. We cover up that fact by simply seeing what it is on the surface.” Sara swallowed hard and looked disappointed. Grissom thought that maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. “So,” he said, “do you want to call it?”
Sara thought for a moment, and then began to envision what happened the day of Eve Romero’s death.
Just over a week ago, Eve Romero confronted her husband and her sister Ava Laerton whom she caught them cheating. Eve, in her rage, could not hope to forgive Ava so she kicked her out of her house.
“You weren’t even a part of RES, Ava. You were just here to see my husband. I want you out of my house!”
“Where will I go?”
“I don’t know, I don’t care.”
At some point during the next two days, Ava Romero left a gift-wrapped box on Bruce Romero’s porch. He found and read the note and decided to give his wife the present without knowing what was inside. When his wife opened the box, she expressed great surprise.
“This is a gold bracelet. You’ve never bought me gold, Bruce. I can’t keep this.”
“Look, honey, it’s inscribed. It’s an anagram for “For Eve Romero, Save the World”. That’s what we’re doing. That’s why we’re here. Forgive me.”
“What is ‘Shadow Velter’.”
Bruce Romero made up a story about “Velters” who apparently protected the world from harm. Eve had a hard time grasping the story, but eventually forgave her husband.
“That’s sweet, Bruce.”
“Gold is more than silver. It thought this would bring our marriage to the next level. You mean so much to me.”
For the next few days, Eve was unsuspecting of what was going on her behind her back until she stumbled across the note that Bruce had poorly hidden the night before the conference. She went to bed early knowing where her husband was.
The next morning, she woke up alone and began to cry. She went outside with the bracelet and the note. From the side of her house, she tossed the two items as far as she could. The bracelet tumbled into the grass and the note fell at her feet, paper not being as aerodynamic as she’ d have liked. As she turned and went inside, the note was carried over the edge of the cliff in the wind. The door slammed behind her.
She waited to see if Bruce would come home before the conference or if he had left her completely. As she waited and dried her eyes, she grabbed an apple and took a few bites. Before she had a chance to finish it, the door of her house swung open. Bruce Romero, feeling guilty for what he had done to his wife, called to her. Eve shoved the apple into her pocket as she stumbled into the living room, fresh tears falling down her face.
“I know what you’ve been doing behind my back!”
“Eve, I’m so sorry! Please, please forgive me! The conference! I’ll make it up to you at the conference! Please come! We have to hurry!”
Eve Romero didn’t move. She stood there, not saying a word and not making a move. Her chest heaved with her quick, angry breathing and her glaring eyes bore right into Bruce’s.
“Get out of my house.”
“But—”
“I said get out of my house!”
Eve Romero was screaming and hysterical. Bruce Romero, having to make a decision, chose to go to the conference, secretly hoping the Eve would forgive him and that she would show up later. However, he would not ever see or hear Eve alive again. Stricken with grief, even fell onto her nearby couch and sobbed long and hard into the cushions. Moments later, she breathed her last breath.
Grissom considered what Sara had said. “So, you think Eve Romero died from emotional stress resulting from her husband’s adulterous behaviour?”
“I can’t think of any other explanation,” said Sara.
“The unreasonable…” Grissom said to himself.
“Pardon me?”
“Oh, nothing. I was just thinking.”
“Me too,” Sara said with a sigh. “I know there’s no hard evidence that suggests Eve Romero died of sadness, but if that’s how it happened… I mean, what a horrible way to go.”
“So leaf subsides to leaf,” Grissom said softly as he watched the falling sun. “So Eden sank to grief.”
Sara continued, “So dawn goes down today.” They looked at one another. “Nothing gold can stay.”
Grissom was impressed. “Where did you hear that?”
“I looked it up,” Sara said with a sly smile. Grissom mirrored her expression. “So,” she said, “Eve is our Eden who ‘sank to grief’.”
“You could think of it that way,” he suggested. “This garden is beautiful, like the Garden of Eden as described in biblical terms. I bet it has seen its share of treachery in its time.”
“So Eden sank to grief,” Sara said to herself, turning the words over in her head.”
“Exactly,” said Grissom. “And do you remember why Eve was punished in the Garden of Eden?”
“No. What?”
“She ate of the forbidden fruit.”
“An apple,” Sara said feeling a sense of revelation. “Eve rejected her husband and the gold bracelet that he gave her.”
“Nothing gold can stay,” recited Grissom.
“Exactly,” Sara said, and the smouldering, golden sun disappeared behind the mountains on the other side of the valley leaving the two CSI’s in darkness.
Grissom reached out and took Sara’s hand. She looked at him questioningly. “Let’s go back now,” he said. “It’s a long drive back to the lab.”
“Hey, Gris?” Sara said as the walked. “Do you think it’s possible that Eve died from grief because her husband left?”
He turned to her, her hand still in his. “I know that I would die if you ever left.” Sara was tired of Grissom’s games, but she managed a half-smiled. From a man who rarely offered any personal input, what he’d said meant a lot to her.
“I’ll stay if you do,” she said, and they walked together back to the car, the golden sun long gone behind the mountains.
FIN
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bluebean
RPG Character: Dr. Sheldon Consare, M.E.
Posts: 442
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Post by bluebean on Sept 4, 2005 21:02:40 GMT 1
Wow. I really like the way that you write. You kept it interesting through out the whole thing. I love the emotions in the characters, especially Cath. Plus, you thought up an interesting case. Great job with this.
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Fabian
Former RPG Moderator
RPG character: Luke Versteeg
Posts: 1,085
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Post by Fabian on Sept 5, 2005 0:10:28 GMT 1
I haven't read everything yet, but I like the way you write as well. It's like I can really imagine their faces, they way they talk, etc. good job.
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