Outside the crime lab the press is beginning to get antsy. The morning news had included what little footage they could shoot at the crime scene. They certainly could not repeat that for the evening reports. The press is now out for blood, guts, information, and film footage. Harassing everyone who exited the building isn’t exactly working. However, the Channel 7 News team has a plan to take care of that.
“Bob, I’m not sure if this is a good idea,” Angie Fontain, a reporter for Channel 7 whispers.
“Angie, don’t worry. We’ll be getting a big scoop,” Bob, the cameraman, responds.
“I know and that’s great, but is this legal?”
“Just follow me,” He grabs her hand and pulls her down the hallway.
They had been hiding, waiting for the receptionist to turn around for a moment. Bob has a home video camera hidden in the folds of his coat. The quality won’t be the best, but it certainly would be better than what those hanging outside got.
Angie and Bob hadn’t exactly snuck into the building undetected. Numerous cameramen and reporters had spotted them. They were pretty ticked off about what they had witnessed. It wasn’t that they cared that it wasn’t how they were supposed to get interviews. It was the fact that they weren’t going to get the scoop. The mob of annoyed press sweep past the receptionist area before anyone can stop them.
Sara happens to be walking down the hallway when all this is happening. She was headed to the break room for a cup of coffee. The two glass samples matched. It isn’t conclusive proof that they are from the same place since that type of glass would be used in thousands of cases, but it is a little more than a coincidence. The noise made by a large crowd of people brings Sara out of her thoughts. She spots the large cameras and groans. Luckily for her Grissom's office is right next to where she has stopped and is surprisingly unlocked.
Sara ducks inside and locks the door. She sits down behind Grissom’s desk and pulls out her cell phone to call security. She smiles to herself, They aren’t even going to get a no comment out of me. The poor security guards are really embarrassed that a noisy barrage of press had gotten by them.
Sara, however, is stuck in Grissom’s office for the time being. She sits at the desk, tapping her fingers on the surface. Grissom, I don’t know how you can stand the smell of formaldehyde in here, she chuckles, Oh how very Grissom. Then a note on the otherwise blank day planner catches her attention. Grissom had written enough down for Sara to realize what had happened. The puzzle pieces were clicking together, telling Sara how long he had been fighting this. Grissom never ceased to amaze her. The man of logic had waited to enact the solution to a very serious problem. Sara starts to ponder what she should do with this knowledge.
Angie and Bob have gotten a little further than the rest of the press. Well, at least until they round a corner, running straight into Catherine and Greg.
Catherine doesn’t recognize them and is immediately suspicious, “Can I help you?”
Bob responds by pulling the camera out of his coat.
Catherine quickly puts her hand over the lens. “I don’t know how you two got in here, but now you have a few questions to answer. Greg call security!”
Angie looks annoyed. She mumbles to Bob, “I told you this was a bad idea.”
***
Nick has managed to not only get a print from the plastic bag, but a hit on AFIS as well. The fingerprint matches a John Wells, age 19, who had been picked up on a DUI the previous year. Conveniently, It was under the influence of Ecstasy. Nick and Brass are seated in the interrogation room across the table from their suspect.
“Mr. Wells where were you last night or more like early this morning at about one AM?” Nick asks.
“I was at my friend’s house. We stayed up all night playing his new Playstation game.”
“Well, That’s funny because we found your fingerprint at a crime scene. On a bag of Ecstasy, no less,” Brass states sliding a picture of it across the table to him. He then slides pictures of the crime scene across the table as well.
“Hey man, we popped a few, but we didn’t shoot any real people,” Wells sits back in his seat like he isn’t concerned with the fact that he is being accused of murder. Of course, his personal grooming habits seem to demonstrate that he doesn’t care about much of anything.
“Real people?” Nick inquires.
“Yeah, the game. Lots of guns and violence. Great for those masculine urges.”
“Okay, we’ll bite. What exactly do you do in this game?” Brass asks, hoping this will trip him up.
“Well, It’s a little more than your basic shoot’em up game. We’re not twelve, ya know. It’s set in Vegas, which was what made it so appealing. Getting to run around, causing ruckus in your own town.”
“We get the point.”
“Basic idea, find guns however you can, knock off as many people as you can, and hide the guns however you can before the cops show up and catch you. My friends and I did really well last night. Took out a block and none of us got caught.”
“Sounds sick,” Brass concludes.
“What I don’t get is why get high?”
“It makes it seem more real. Blurs the edges between fantasy and reality.”
“Well, we’ve got more fun for you,” Brass states throwing the warrants down on the table, “We have warrants for your shoes and to check your hands for GSR.”
“Lift up your foot,” Nick looks at the treads. They don’t match the one from the door.
“And no I don’t own any other shoes.”
Brass gives the man a look, “Now let’s see those hands.”
Nick swabs his hands and sprays it. John Wells undeniably has GSR on his hands.
Brass starts to read him his rights.
***
Catherine strides down the hallway. Greg had finished processing her blood sample, but they haven’t been able to find a match yet. CODIS is still searching, but at this point it is probably going to take forever. All they know for sure is that they are searching for a male. She rounds a corner and literally runs into Nick.
“Sorry,” Catherine starts, “I’ve been looking for you. I heard you made an arrest.”
“Yeah, but something doesn’t feel right.”
“What?”
“The man seemed too calm. I’ve never seen anyone act so relaxed in an interrogation room when being accused of forty-eight murders.”
“He’s probably just arrogant. Thinks there’s no way we can pin this on him. Anyways, I’ve sent everyone else home. Go get some rest. We’re not going to solve this on a caffeine high.”
“Yeah, I’ll see you tonight. Say hi to Lindsey for me.”
TBC