It had been another long day. Dr. Albert had spent hours with Sophie Ellis, but was no closer to a break through. Grissom had made his team go home soon after Sara and Nick had returned to the lab, arguing that they hadn't slept in a while, and there was nothing they could do at work. They had grumbled, but they had gone, and when they returned around 4:00pm, they all looking infinitely more healthy.
They gathered in the lab again. There would have been more space in the layout room, but Grissom knew his team wanted to be close to where the analysis would come from. Greg had the soil sample from Sophie's clothes in the mass spectroscoper and her DNA was ready to be processed. When Greg had finished setting up the various machines and turned back toward the rest of them, Grissom began to talk.
"Sophie Ellis is under some sort of hypnosis." He saw Sara's eyes flash, but continued without acknowledging her. "Dr. Albert is working with her now."
"Those clothes that we found at Sophie's house." Said Sara "They don't smell like cigarette smoke, more like the house fire at the fourth kidnapping."
"That places Sophie at two of the crime scenes, if the soil matched that is." Warrick pointed out. "Do you think she did it?"
"No." said Catherine quickly, "But I think she might have been involved somehow."
"Against her will?" Greg injected.
"With an altered will." Grissom corrected.
"Is that even scientifically possible?" Sara asked.
"Ask me again when we've solved the case." Grissom said, a hint of a smile on his lips.
The printer produced the first page of results, which were immediately pounced on by Greg.
"Soil sample is a match." He announced, regaining some of his enthusiasm. "Sophie Ellis was at that house."
A page came out from another printer. Nick, by virtue of his proximity, and the fact that Greg would have had to either wade through Warrick and Sara or jump the table, picked up the sheet.
"Eight markers in common. We're looking for her brother."
A cell phone rang. Technically, they were on over time. No new case would come to them. The phone rang again, and Grissom reached slowly into his pocket. It was broad daylight. Was the kidnapper so cocky he would strike during the day? The phone rang for a third time, and Grissom finally answered it. The conversation was short, and he hung up after only a few sentences.
"Greg, would you take the picture Nick and Sara brought in to O'Brien and tell him to take care of publicity? The rest of you, we've got another scene."
* * * * * * *
There was an ambulance parked outside the house, but the EMTs were in plain sight at the back of their vehicle. Clearly, there was no need for medical attention. Brass, flanked by his officers, was waiting for them at the tape, which he held up for them.
"This one's different." He announced, looking tired and vastly unhappy. "The house belongs to Mr. and Mrs. Ostin. They were away for their fifth anniversary and got home just before 3:30 this afternoon. They had left their daughter here with her grandmother. Call went to Days first because they thought it was a murder, but when they saw the girl's room, they called you. Day guy is inside ready to report to you, and the coroner is inside too."
Feeling heavy, they entered the house, passing by the living room where the distraught couple was sitting. At a nod from Grissom, Catherine diverted course to talk with them, and the others walked up the stairs. Paris, from Days waited for them at the top.
"Mr. Grissom, guys, Sara." He nodded. "The 911 call came at 3:35pm, made by the husband. He said that his mother was dead and then all the dispatcher could hear was the wife in the background. If they didn't have caller ID, the paramedics wouldn't have known where to come. As soon as I saw the body, I called Brass to tell him I needed you. EMTs pronounced at 3:55pm and David is waiting for you."
"Thanks Paris." Grissom said, startling Nick, who obviously hadn't expected him to know the day-shifter's name. "You can go back to the lab. We'll take it from here."
Paris went down the stairs, and the team followed Grissom into the girl's room. The window was open, and a breeze was blowing lightly into the room. Sitting slouched in the rocking chair was the figure of the grandmother, her gentle face marred by the gaping bullet hole in her forehead. David turned to face them, and began his report.
"Liver temp suggests that time of death was around noon, but we'll know for sure after the autopsy. Lack of blood suggests that she was shot somewhere else, and then placed her afterwards. I'd say from the appearance of the entrance wound she was shot at very close range, point blank most likely."
"You can take her, have Dr. Robbins wait to do the autopsy until one of us gets there." Grissom said heavily, as the other three moved to examine the room. "Thanks David."
The younger coroner nodded, and called for his team and a gurney. Nick was over by the dresser, and he noticed a bowl full of something on it. He leaned over to smell it.
"Porridge." He announced. "It's cold."
"Good night nobody, Good night mush. And good night to the old lady whispering hush." Warrick recited bitterly. "He's skipping lines Grissom."
"Maybe he has to." Pointed out Sara, "We took his accomplice."
"That might be what the nobody part is about." Grissom speculated. "He's telling us that he doesn't need help."
"Or that when he doesn't have help people die." Nick added.
"Maybe so." Grissom conceded, "let's get this processed and back to the lab. I don't want to keep Dr. Robbins waiting too long."
* * * * * * *
Grissom entered the autopsy bay just as Dr. Robbins was in the final stages of extracting the bullet. Looking slightly guilty, he put the projectile in a petrie dish and handed it to David.
"Sorry Gil." Robbins said, "I couldn't help it."
Grissom nodded understandingly as he pulled on his rubber gloves. The two men began their inspection of the body. David stood waiting, petrie dish in hand, for a full ten seconds, and then made for the door.
"I'll just take this to ballistics." He said, not really expecting an answer. He didn't get one. Rolling his eyes, he headed out the door and down the hallway, where he was intercepted by Sara. "If you're looking for Grissom, don't bother. He's playing with Dr. Robbins and nothing short of a nuclear explosion is going to get them away from that body."
"Once a coroner always a coroner." Sara said smiling tolerantly.
"God help me." David replied, smiling too.
"There are worse fates." Sara pointed out.
"Name one."
Sara didn't answer. David decided it was probably better that way.
* * * * * * *
"Well, it's definitely a nine millimetre." Bobby stated from the depths of his microscope. "But that's about all I can tell you without the gun. These are generic bullets."
"Thanks man." Said Nick who had joined Sara in the ballistics lab.
"Wait a minute." Said Bobby, fiddling with the dials, "There's something on this bullet, some sort of fibre."
"That would make sense." Sara postulated, "Warrick found a bloody towel in the rubbish bin. Maybe he wrapped the gun to muffle the noise."
"It was daytime." Nick reminded her, before turning back to the ballistics tech. "Can you get us a sample?"
"Of course." Said Bobby reaching for a pair of tweezers and a test tube. "Here you go."
Sara took the tube, and she and Nick headed out the door to Warrick in trace.
"If this matches Warrick's towel, where's the rest of the blood in the house?" Nick asked.
"Who knows?" Sara replied. "Maybe she didn't bleed very much, or maybe he's playing with us and took the other towels."
They entered the lab where Warrick was working, and handed him the sample.
"From the bullet." Nick said laconically, "For comparison."
Warrick nodded, and held out a hand for the tube. Grissom entered the lab followed immediately by Catherine. Grissom held the autopsy report in his hand, and was instantly the centre of attention, though Warrick continued to work.
"Anna Ostin, 73 years old, COD was a single gun shot wound to the head, probably shot from point blank range. Bullet entered the frontal lobe, and lodged just in front of the corpus collosum. Death was immediate." Grissom read off the report in an emotionless tone that they all knew was a cover for his remorse, whether he would admit it or not.
"Fibres from the towel match what Bobby found on the gun." Warrick announced, "From the microscope analysis anyway. Do you want a spec?"
"Only if we get desperate." Grissom replied. "The match should be good enough for now."
Grissom's cell phone rang, and everyone got a panicked look on his or her face. Grissom opened his phone.
"Grissom---Hello Dr. Albert." A sigh of relief ran around the room. "She's what?---Of course. We'll be right there." He hung up. "Catherine, Nick, you're with me. Dr. Albert has made some progress with Sophie."
Leaving Sara and Warrick, they exited the lab, hoping at last that they would get a solid lead on their quarry, and put this case to rest.