CSI:LV Fic - Mistakes - Ch.4/?
Title: Mistakes - Chapter Four
Author: druinsanity
Fandom: CSI: Las Vegas
Characters/Pairing: Gil, Catherine, Team
Rating: R for Casefile details
Disclaimer: I don't own them. It's just for fun.
Summary: Casefile
Previous Chapters: Prologue| Ch.1| Ch.2| Ch.3
The room was quiet for the most part as Gil sifted through the evidence collected at the latest crime scene. Catherine was in the computer lab tediously looking through web sites and data bases for a match to the feather in the event that it shifted from a random piece of evidence to a key piece of evidence. On the other hand and in another room, Gil was waiting for several test results from the lab. To pass his own time he was studying the blood patterns on the bedding, the photos from the scene, anything that would be a primary connector to the previous two cases.
His neck and shoulders ached from hunching over the large evidence table to study the pieces lay out before them. Standing upright, he removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. The problem with any unsolved case was that if it was unsolved, the puzzle was missing a piece or several pieces. Something wasn’t there or didn’t fit and that was when cases became cold.
But this wasn’t a normal case. It was another serial. For that fact alone they couldn’t afford to let this case go. Right now, the rapist/murderer was out there selecting another victim. Sleeping at night was difficult with such a weight hanging over his head. Perhaps it was more difficult because they knew the intricate details of the atrocities performed on these women. But deep down, Gil like to think that he just still had that small amount of emotion over his profession left in him. Most of the time it was so easy for him to turn everything off. And while getting emotional about a case was somewhat of an annoyance, it also was a blessing. It reminded him that he hadn’t completely cut himself off.
A light tap at the door caused him to stir from his analysis, both physical and mental. Leaning against the frame, he found Catherine. “Did you find a match?”
“I’ve been standing here for two minutes and knocked several times.” She stepped into the evidence room and leaned over to eye the pieces scattered out over the table. “I found a match.”
Gil waited, watching Catherine continue to analyze the photographs on the table. “And?” He finally prompted.
“Oh, and it’s an owl feather.” She laid the paperwork in front of Gil. “A regular old barn owl.”
For a few moments, Gil replaced his glasses and lifted the new pages to look over. “This doesn’t narrow our search at all. The barn owl is one of the most wide-spread of land birds in population. They’re everywhere.” He looked over the top of his glasses at Catherine. “Granted, they’re found in open woodland areas more than in the city or the desert.”
“So say we discount the feather and move on.” Catherine attempted to steer the investigation in another direction. “It’s a fluke.”
“Catherine, this is the only discrepancy in consistency of our killer. He’s meticulous about everything up until the stabbing.” Gil explained, one finger indicating the photos laid out. “These stab wounds though… he’s doing it in a blind rage. See the cast off on the head board and the walls?”
“Yeah, I see that.”
Sifting through photographs, he came up with some close up shots of the wounds on the victim. “Even these stab wounds are harried and uneven. Everything about this man is clean and precise up until this point.”
Catherine nodded at Gil. “Alright, I’m not saying that he isn’t. But a feather?”
“An out of place feather. Not just any feather.” Gil explained. “It’s an out of context feather… something that shouldn’t be there, but is. Understanding why it’s there could lead us to our killer.”
“A feather is a feather. And you had me researching a feather while the killer is still at large and probably already has his next victim.” The aggravated tenor of Catherine’s voice was unintentional, but also obvious.
Gil looked to her, watching her quietly for several minutes. They could either focus on the feather or find another road to travel with the rest of the evidence. After a deep breath, Gil nodded and set the paperwork on the feather and the feather itself aside around a twist deep in his stomach. “Alright. Let’s look at the…” He shook his head as his gaze flitted across the table. “Catherine, this isn’t physical. We’ve already discussed this. There are no common attributes among these women.”
Catherine nodded with the relief that she felt in every inch of her. It was always difficult to steer Gil away from a train of thought. At least he was now attempting to look at the case from another angle. She pulled on a lab coat and a pair of latex gloves to match Gil’s attire. “Skimpy clothes. Covered in blood now. That’s a commonality.”
“No Catherine, the clothes being… skimpy has nothing to do with this. They don’t match in commonality, color, style…” Gil shook his head. “It doesn’t fit. None of it does.”
“Alright. You’re right. Every case is erratic in everything but style.” She let out a slow exhale of breath, knowing that Gil was right. “So where does that leave us? Don’t tell me that we have nothing.”
Gil pursed his lips partially in thought but more in effort to stifle the words that she didn’t want to hear. “No. We never have nothing. We simply don’t have all the pieces to the puzzle yet.”
“So what do we have?”
“We know that this isn’t an emotional act for him. Most serials try to replace something from their past with their victims. They…” Gil paused switching trains of thought mid-sentence as he attempted to give Catherine something that wasn’t… nothing. “There are five classic motives for serial killers. This motive can only be the visionary. Our killer isn’t gaining anything from these women, not anything tangible at least.”
Catherine followed, nodding. “I’ve read about these; power and control, missionary, gain motivated…” Her lips twisted as she thought for a long moment.
“Hedonistic and visionary.” Gil finished for her. “We need to narrow the motive down. That would possibly help us narrow down which of this evidence to put into the context of knowing our murderer.”
A slow smile spread on Catherine’s lips as she finally caught on to what Gil was saying. He was giving them both a path to take aside from staring at the useless. “We’re making a profile.”
“Good idea, Catherine.” He gave her a small, closed-mouthed grin with the make-believe that the idea had been hers. Slowly, he began to box up the evidence again.
“Well, you know that I have all the good ones.” Catherine volleyed the tease in return as she helped to put away the evidence for now. “If you didn’t have me you’d be lost. Admit it.”
Gil nodded at Catherine, bringing up his solitary piece of evidence that he had just set aside once more. “Lost with one feather.”
“Five possible motives are more pieces to work with than one misplaced feather.” Catherine said. “It makes more sense in the chaos, you know?”
Lifting two boxes, Gil started to the evidence room. “Chaos is a friend of mine.”
A laugh bubbled over from Catherine, carrying boxes behind Gil. “Am I going crazy or did you just quote Bob Dylan?” She laughed again as the only reply she received from Gil was a shrug.
Author: druinsanity
Fandom: CSI: Las Vegas
Characters/Pairing: Gil, Catherine, Team
Rating: R for Casefile details
Disclaimer: I don't own them. It's just for fun.
Summary: Casefile
Previous Chapters: Prologue| Ch.1| Ch.2| Ch.3
The room was quiet for the most part as Gil sifted through the evidence collected at the latest crime scene. Catherine was in the computer lab tediously looking through web sites and data bases for a match to the feather in the event that it shifted from a random piece of evidence to a key piece of evidence. On the other hand and in another room, Gil was waiting for several test results from the lab. To pass his own time he was studying the blood patterns on the bedding, the photos from the scene, anything that would be a primary connector to the previous two cases.
His neck and shoulders ached from hunching over the large evidence table to study the pieces lay out before them. Standing upright, he removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. The problem with any unsolved case was that if it was unsolved, the puzzle was missing a piece or several pieces. Something wasn’t there or didn’t fit and that was when cases became cold.
But this wasn’t a normal case. It was another serial. For that fact alone they couldn’t afford to let this case go. Right now, the rapist/murderer was out there selecting another victim. Sleeping at night was difficult with such a weight hanging over his head. Perhaps it was more difficult because they knew the intricate details of the atrocities performed on these women. But deep down, Gil like to think that he just still had that small amount of emotion over his profession left in him. Most of the time it was so easy for him to turn everything off. And while getting emotional about a case was somewhat of an annoyance, it also was a blessing. It reminded him that he hadn’t completely cut himself off.
A light tap at the door caused him to stir from his analysis, both physical and mental. Leaning against the frame, he found Catherine. “Did you find a match?”
“I’ve been standing here for two minutes and knocked several times.” She stepped into the evidence room and leaned over to eye the pieces scattered out over the table. “I found a match.”
Gil waited, watching Catherine continue to analyze the photographs on the table. “And?” He finally prompted.
“Oh, and it’s an owl feather.” She laid the paperwork in front of Gil. “A regular old barn owl.”
For a few moments, Gil replaced his glasses and lifted the new pages to look over. “This doesn’t narrow our search at all. The barn owl is one of the most wide-spread of land birds in population. They’re everywhere.” He looked over the top of his glasses at Catherine. “Granted, they’re found in open woodland areas more than in the city or the desert.”
“So say we discount the feather and move on.” Catherine attempted to steer the investigation in another direction. “It’s a fluke.”
“Catherine, this is the only discrepancy in consistency of our killer. He’s meticulous about everything up until the stabbing.” Gil explained, one finger indicating the photos laid out. “These stab wounds though… he’s doing it in a blind rage. See the cast off on the head board and the walls?”
“Yeah, I see that.”
Sifting through photographs, he came up with some close up shots of the wounds on the victim. “Even these stab wounds are harried and uneven. Everything about this man is clean and precise up until this point.”
Catherine nodded at Gil. “Alright, I’m not saying that he isn’t. But a feather?”
“An out of place feather. Not just any feather.” Gil explained. “It’s an out of context feather… something that shouldn’t be there, but is. Understanding why it’s there could lead us to our killer.”
“A feather is a feather. And you had me researching a feather while the killer is still at large and probably already has his next victim.” The aggravated tenor of Catherine’s voice was unintentional, but also obvious.
Gil looked to her, watching her quietly for several minutes. They could either focus on the feather or find another road to travel with the rest of the evidence. After a deep breath, Gil nodded and set the paperwork on the feather and the feather itself aside around a twist deep in his stomach. “Alright. Let’s look at the…” He shook his head as his gaze flitted across the table. “Catherine, this isn’t physical. We’ve already discussed this. There are no common attributes among these women.”
Catherine nodded with the relief that she felt in every inch of her. It was always difficult to steer Gil away from a train of thought. At least he was now attempting to look at the case from another angle. She pulled on a lab coat and a pair of latex gloves to match Gil’s attire. “Skimpy clothes. Covered in blood now. That’s a commonality.”
“No Catherine, the clothes being… skimpy has nothing to do with this. They don’t match in commonality, color, style…” Gil shook his head. “It doesn’t fit. None of it does.”
“Alright. You’re right. Every case is erratic in everything but style.” She let out a slow exhale of breath, knowing that Gil was right. “So where does that leave us? Don’t tell me that we have nothing.”
Gil pursed his lips partially in thought but more in effort to stifle the words that she didn’t want to hear. “No. We never have nothing. We simply don’t have all the pieces to the puzzle yet.”
“So what do we have?”
“We know that this isn’t an emotional act for him. Most serials try to replace something from their past with their victims. They…” Gil paused switching trains of thought mid-sentence as he attempted to give Catherine something that wasn’t… nothing. “There are five classic motives for serial killers. This motive can only be the visionary. Our killer isn’t gaining anything from these women, not anything tangible at least.”
Catherine followed, nodding. “I’ve read about these; power and control, missionary, gain motivated…” Her lips twisted as she thought for a long moment.
“Hedonistic and visionary.” Gil finished for her. “We need to narrow the motive down. That would possibly help us narrow down which of this evidence to put into the context of knowing our murderer.”
A slow smile spread on Catherine’s lips as she finally caught on to what Gil was saying. He was giving them both a path to take aside from staring at the useless. “We’re making a profile.”
“Good idea, Catherine.” He gave her a small, closed-mouthed grin with the make-believe that the idea had been hers. Slowly, he began to box up the evidence again.
“Well, you know that I have all the good ones.” Catherine volleyed the tease in return as she helped to put away the evidence for now. “If you didn’t have me you’d be lost. Admit it.”
Gil nodded at Catherine, bringing up his solitary piece of evidence that he had just set aside once more. “Lost with one feather.”
“Five possible motives are more pieces to work with than one misplaced feather.” Catherine said. “It makes more sense in the chaos, you know?”
Lifting two boxes, Gil started to the evidence room. “Chaos is a friend of mine.”
A laugh bubbled over from Catherine, carrying boxes behind Gil. “Am I going crazy or did you just quote Bob Dylan?” She laughed again as the only reply she received from Gil was a shrug.