NCIS/TS Fic: The Cost of Divorce 8/?
Previous Chapters:
Chapter One. / Chapter Two. / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Chapter Seven.
Chapter Eight
Blair and Jim would far rather have remained in the comparative safety of the elevator, preemptively gathering as much intel as possible about the people at NCIS that they had yet to meet, namely Miss Abby Sciuto. Gibbs' summons had effectively put an end to that option. So, looking a lot like two little boys called before the principal, both men stepped out of the elevator and into the NCIS bullpen. Walking towards the partitioned area that was obviously Gibbs' kingdom, both men were somewhat taken aback by the sight that greeted them: five-foot ten and approximately 130 pounds of classic Goth, tattooed and pig-tailed.
"Gibbs, you have been busy!" Abby, apparently immune to Gibbs' glare, commented to nobody in particular as she looked appreciatively up, down and back up again, at Jim Ellison. "Hiya, handsome," Abby's gravelly voice came across as smoky and just on the right side of wrong.
Blair blinked, twice. That sort of voice should be listed as a dangerous substance and he was eternally grateful that the girl wasn't a red-head. Jim might be his but even superman had his kryptonite, and for Jim Ellison, it was red-heads. Add that voice to a red-headed package and the blast radius would be measured in miles. Noting the look of fond tolerance on Gibbs' face, Blair sub-vocalized a warning to his partner; Jim, no touchee… noooo touchee, savvy?.
Jim sent a look back at Blair that clearly said I get it, Table-leg.
Blair replied with a further eye roll that clearly communicated, to Jim at least, not anymore.
Tony and Doctor Mallard, both watched the silent communication with a degree of awe. You had to be very close to someone to have entire conversations in a look.
Gibbs, ignoring all the unspoken by-play, went for expedience, "Abby, meet Detective Jim Ellison and Dr. Blair Sandburg."
"You're kidding! He's Blair Sandburg?" Abby squealed as she launched herself at the smaller of the Cascade detectives, causing Blair to backpedal fast to avoid being bowled over by the forensic scientist. She grabbed Blair's shoulders firmly and demanded, "Are you still claiming to be a fraud?"
"Fraud?" Gibbs eyes widened, that wasn't the reaction he was expecting.
Blair looked incredibly uncomfortable.
Doctor Mallard looked thoughtful, as though the comment of fraud had actually explained a few things.
Ellison looked furious, even going so far as to step towards Abby, with intent, even.
"Hey, what's with calling someone you've only just met a fraud," Tony smiled charmingly as he interposed himself into the tableau to defuse the situation before things went past pear-shaped at the speed of plaid. That being said Tony was intensely interested in finding out what the fraud comment meant, himself. After all, an acknowledged fraud working in policing, let alone consulting for the FBI, there had to be a story there and the Sentinel thing was probably at the root of it all. "You look like an escapee from Rocky Horror, Miss Sciuto, and yet I don't see Dr. Sandburg making comments."
"Hey. . ."
A sharp whistle cut across whatever comment Abby was about to make. Everyone looked at Gibbs, which was exactly the response he wanted. "I've got a dead naval Lieutenant who's just getting deader," Gibbs snarled into the shocked silence. "Abs, you got anything, yet?"
"You know I haven't," Abby whined. "You always know when I've got results, Gibbs, you always know before I know."
"Then what are you doing up here, Abs?"
"I wanted to meet. . .,"Abby darted a quick look at Blair and Jim, "I'd better get back and fire up Major Mass Spec."
"You do that, Abs," Gibbs smiled at her softening the implied rebuke. "I'll bring Sandburg and Ellison down later." Much later; and only after he'd had a chance to explore the fraud comment in more depth.
"Sweet," the Goth girl spun on the spot before she high-tailed it back to her domain.
"Thanks," Blair whispered to Gibbs.
"Don't be," Gibbs turned to face Blair and Jim with a rather smug expression on his face. Hoping to get Sandburg slightly off balance Gibbs quipped, "I'll let Abby question you both, later."
"Shit."
"You say something, Ellison?"
"Nope, just waiting for you to tell us where to put our things," Jim replied calmly as he placed a hand on Sandburg's shoulder.
Blair stood silently beside his partner while he though up and discarded a multitude of plans to avoid discussing the fraud comment. Being the smart man that he was, though, meant that Blair was certain that Gibbs would want to discuss Abby's revelation, the only question was when.
Gibbs, noticing the silent support being leant to Sandburg by Ellison, indicated the set of obviously unoccupied desks that made up three of the four quarters of Gibbs' domain. Once everyone was settled, Gibbs planned on addressing the fraud comment before it came back and bit him on his investigative butt.
Tony, reading the underlying tension rather accurately, attempted to divert everyone's attention elsewhere. To that end, he took one look at the layout of the desks and firmly planted his butt on the desk that diametrically opposed the desk that was obviously Gibbs'. "I think I'll be happy here." Tony allowed a small grin to play across his face, "Out of range, as it were." The upside to the head that followed indicated that maybe Tony should have kept his mouth shut while the going had been good. The fact that Gibbs had gotten across pen, and behind him, so quietly should have been enough to warn the Baltimore detective but before the governor on his mouth kicked in Tony asked, "So, are you like the Red October of NCIS?"
"Red October?" Gibbs was worried he'd rattled the kid more than he thought.
"You know, the Hunt for Red October, starred Alec Baldwin and Sean Connery. Killer submarine with a new caterpillar drive," Tony started to explain before slipping into a truly horrendous imitation of Sean Connery's brogue, "It reminds me of the heady days of Sputnik and Yuri Gagarin when the world trembled at the sound of our rockets. Now they will tremble again - at the sound of our silence. The order is: engage the silent drive."
"DiNozzo…"
"Shutting up now, Boss."
"Good," Gibbs commented before he turned to face Sandburg and Ellison, both of whom were doing a fairly good impression of the old sniper trick of not being there. Unfortunately, for Sandburg and Ellison, Gibbs was an old sniper and thus saw through the ruse.
"Conference room, now!" Gibbs barked as he strode out of the bullpen confident that Sandburg and Ellison would follow; DiNozzo's attempt at diversion having failed spectacularly.
If Gibbs had issued that command to anyone else other than Sandburg and Ellison, his confidence that he would be followed without question would not have been misplaced. The problem was that Sandburg and Ellison, after all the BS and power plays they'd been through, weren't about to be bullied by anyone, not even the US President, so Gibbs' order was summarily ignored.
Ducky, reading the situation with a lot more accuracy than Gibbs, moved to follow the NCIS agent as soon as Gibbs had started to turn. Damage control first and foremost on the ME's mind; Gibbs was good, but Sandburg was better at investigating serial offences, and Ellison would be almost unmatched in the field. Keeping them onside was going to require a slight modification of Gibbs' usual methods.
Tony didn't follow Gibbs, though he could have, given the joint nature of the investigation. He should have but his instincts said if he did then he'd never get the full story about Sandburg and Ellison. Worse, Tony also suspected that the two might well turn and leave if he didn't remain, effectively agreeing that Gibbs had stepped over the line with his abrupt summons. In all honesty Tony would admit that he'd have already been walking if he were Sandburg so he stayed lending silent support to the not so silent Cascadian.
"No way, no how, Jim," Blair was already getting into his partner's face, "I've been through the Q&A routine too may times already."
Ellison, fully in agreement with Sandburg, was stuck trying to placate the Sandburg while keeping a weather ear on Gibbs, Mallard and DiNozzo. Gibbs and DiNozzo, at least had had the Sentinel 101 talk but without any reference to academic suicide; on the other hand Mallard, who had had none of the explanations about Sentinel 101 but apparently knew of the academic suicide. The four men, together with their fragmented knowledge, was the stuff of Sentinel nightmares. "Calm down, Chief, maybe Gibbs wants an update on your theories."
"If you believe that, Jim, I've got some beach side property in Atlantis I could interest you in. He heard the word fraud and wants an explanation, now. Doesn't matter that I'm Dr Blair Sandburg, author of the leading text on interagency co-operation; doesn't matter that I have the FBI begging me to jump ship permanently; doesn't matter that I can heal the hurts of HIS heart, nope, Gibbs' hears the word fraud and it is back to Interrogation, now, and don't tell me he said Conference Room, he meant Interrogation.
"Yeah, well it doesn't say that many great things about me, either, Sandburg," Ellison pushed back; after all, it was an insult to him as well. Still, when Jim got Gibbs alone there was going to be hell to pay. Until then, however, Jim had to get Sandburg back on track and this was one of the times where he was eternally grateful that the power-balance between the two of them was pretty equal. Sentinel to Guide, Jim pushed and pushed hard past the angry, and hurt, man, Blair Sandburg until the Guide was forced to respond.
"Dammit, Jim," Blair grumbled as he came down off of his high dudgeon, "when is that ever going to go away?"
"About the same time we hear a politician speak the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth during an election campaign."
"Gee, thanks."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Jethro," Dr. Mallard hurried to catch up to the NCIS prime investigator, "Jethro, that might have been a mistake."
"What?" Gibbs, who had just made it to the Conference room, turned sharply to face the ME. When Gibbs noticed the complete lack of anyone else following behind the ME the scowl on his face only deepened.
Ducky, used to the mercurial temper of one Leroy Jethro Gibbs, ignored the scowl. "I said that might have been a mistake, Jethro. Our young Abigail locked onto one insignificant fact from Dr. Sandburg's history and you seem to have blown it all out of proportion," the ME scolded his superior.
"Blown it out of proportion?" Gibbs wasn't about to back down, "If the man's a fraud, and, as it looks like you knew about it and didn't warn me, I want to know what is he doing working for the Cascade PD, let alone the FBI. I'll not have some fraud jeopardizing this case and preventing a Marine's family from getting justice!"
There were times, Ducky would admit, that Gibbs' unswerving drive for justice was a blessing but sometimes, just sometimes, Gibbs' this meant that he occasionally sped past some minor, but often crucial details. This looked like being one of those times. "I don't know what Dr. Sandburg and/or Detective Ellison might have told you, but I suspect they might have mentioned something about tribal guardians and their companions," Ducky fished with the finesse of a skilled interrogator; something he'd learned through watching Gibbs over the years combined with a natural flair for reading people.
"Jethro, do you honestly think the FBI would have Dr. Sandburg teaching if he wasn't the real deal?" Ducky tried gentle reasoning; the problem there was using the FBI as an example. As a whole, the organization did a brilliant job, but for some reason the agents often sent to co-operate with NCIS tended to rub Gibbs the wrong way, leading to Gibbs having a less than stellar opinion of the FBI as a whole.
"Yes," at least Gibbs was succinct in his reply.
"How about the ATF, then?" Ducky pulled out the big guns; for some reason Gibbs had a better view of the ATF than the FBI. Needless to say Ducky decided not to mention the fact that Dr. Sandburg also had contacts in the CIA.
"Awe, hell," Gibbs sighed.
"That about sums it up nicely, Jethro. I think it is safe to say that our young Abigail fixated on the fact that Blair Sandburg apparently admitted to academic fraud in relation to a document purported to be his final thesis; this document was later described as a work of fiction, described a super-human type of person who could see, taste, touch, hear and smell things beyond the ken of normal mortals. Blair Sandburg referred to these people as Sentinels." Ducky watched Gibbs closely as he filled in the investigator on the facts that he had ascertained while waiting for Gibbs and company to return to NCIS. Long association allowed the ME to spot the minute tell that verified that Gibbs knew something about which Ducky now spoke.
"But he admitted fraud, correct?" Gibbs was now stuck wondering how far down his own throat he had just shoved his foot.
"Apparently as a lure to draw media attention away from a protection detail for a union boss named Jack Bartley who had been targeted for assassination. Bartley was apparently trying to unite the longshoremen, which was making him extremely unpopular with the shipping companies," Ducky continued to explain the case details that were available to the general public, if they bothered to look past the admission of fraud. "A hired killer, one Klaus Zeller, had apparently been able to escape once due to the interference of the press corps," a fact Ducky happily emphasized as Gibbs had little time for, and even less tolerance, of the media when it interfered in his cases.
Well past his knee-caps, apparently was the answer to how far he'd shoved his foot in it. "And yet Abby still believes him to be a fraud," Gibbs finally countered.
"Yes, well our Abby is a little naive in the ways of the world," Ducky spoke plainly, "and her absolute belief in the truth of science sometimes gets in the way of seeing consequences that sometimes might follow. After all, the Chief of Police is one record as having awarded Blair Sandburg, then only a police observer, the keys to the city as a thank you for the young man's willingness to sacrifice his personal credibility in a way that led directly to the incarceration of a known hit man and the eventual successful prosecution of several corrupt members of various shipping companies."
"But," Gibbs attempted to explain that Sandburg apparently hadn't lied but was cut short as the ME continued to speak over Gibbs' comments.
"Now, of course, if Blair Sandburg had identified a type of person who could listen to a conversation from a mile away without the need for complex surveillance equipment, just imagine what various agencies might do to employ such an individual."
Gibbs could. In fact Gibbs already had considered just what Ellison could do and the black-ops part of his history had salivated at the thought. Suddenly Gibbs found that he was regretting his pre-emptive summons to the interrogation room as he was going to be forced to break one of his own cardinal rules; he owed Sandburg an apology. It looked like Blair Sandburg was a man of considerable honor even going so far as to commit professional suicide to protect his own for that is what Sandburg had done, Gibbs was certain. It didn't matter if there had been a retraction or the awarding of medals, even Gibbs knew just how cut-throat academics could be -- Stan Burley having explained that fact once in considerable detail when they'd been investigating the murder of an ROTC student by his professor in Military Studies.
Of course, Gibbs now had another problem on his hand, dealing with Abby and the high dudgeon she'd be in believing that the Gods of Science had been insulted. The main sticking point was Gibbs was going to need Sandburg and Ellison's permission to read Abby in so he could also explain why she should forget she'd ever read anything about Guides and Sentinels. "Does Abby know any of the rest of the story?"
"I don't think she was particularly interested in reading about the retractions or, as she put it, the excuses. As I said, a little single-minded when viewing her God, Scientific Method."
"Great, just great." Gibbs started to frown as a tension headache began to make itself known.
"Tylenol, Jethro, or would you prefer a glass of bourbon?" Ducky asked with a smile as he watched the elusive expressions that fleeting showed on Gibbs' normally impassive face finally settling into one of pained concern.
"Bourbon."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Abs," Gibbs yelled over the almost deafening sounds that Abby called music.
"Gibbs, I don't have anything yet," Abby yelled back, "do I?" Abby frowned at her mass spectrometer, which was strangely silent given that Gibbs had just walked in. Normally, at least when Abby was examining items for a case, Gibbs inevitably walked in just as the case-busting results came through; it was almost supernatural.
"No, Abbs, in this case you don't have anything. I just need to have a word with you about Dr. Sandburg and Detective Ellison."
"Oh, so Ellison is a Sentinel," Abby started to dance around her laboratory before she stopped in front of Gibbs with a look of confused disappointment on her face. "Why did he lie?"
"Lie, Abbs?" Gibbs feigned ignorance of the supposed fraudulent submission by one Blair Sandburg, PhD candidate.
"You didn't know?" Abby started to babble, "of course you didn't know. You never watch television, except for the occasional football match. Oh dear…"
"Abbs," Gibbs applied the glare of death.
"Blair Sandburg admitted to academic fraud. How can he have ever gotten his doctorate? I mean, you don't go around publishing fairy tales as serious research then say you lied about it. Will his working with you on this case cause problems?"
"Abby, he didn't lie," Gibbs growled.
"What! He told the truth," Abby looked even more shocked at the idea that someone would say that the truth was a lie.
"Abby, Dr. Sandburg was awarded his degree as a result of his book The Not So Thin Blue Line. His work of fiction was released as a work of fact."
"Oh," Abby looked crestfallen; she hadn't connected Blair Sandburg, fraud, with Dr. Blair Sandburg, the author and profiler. "So I've just called one of the FBI's best profiler's a fraud."
"Yes, Abbs, you have." Gibbs smiled as he leant forward and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. "You might need to apologize."
"Hey, I thought you had a rule against apologizing."
"No, it's a rule about never saying sorry," Gibbs retaliated. "In this case, we are both going to ask for forgiveness, which is always easier to do than ask permission."
"We, Gibbs?"
"I may have reacted a somewhat aggressively when you called Dr. Sandburg a fraud. I stopped listening to my gut for a moment."
"Gibbs," Abby went to hug her boss.
"On another front I'll be sending Ellison down to have a look over the evidence we collected between the crime scene and the cemetery. Don't open any of the bags until he's down here and then let him look over it first," Gibbs commanded, thinking that if Ellison was a walking, talking crime laboratory, he may as well use him as one.
"Gibbs?" This time Abby was looking askance at him.
"Let's just say that I don't think Sandburg ever lied and leave it at that for the moment, Abbs."
"Oh. Oh, oh, "Abby was suddenly dancing across the laboratory to her computer station; her fingers flying as she tried to pull up copies of Sandburg's publications.
"Your Bourbon, Gibbs," Ducky commented as he walked into the forensics lab, a glass of bourbon in one hand and a sealed evidence bag in the other. "Ah, I see you've spoken with Abby."
"What you got there, Duck?" Gibbs inclined his head to indicate the contents of the bag.
"Theodore William's clothes, I thought Detective Ellison might be able to detect something off them." Ducky's comments verifying that he believed that Sandburg's fictional work had some basis in truth.
"Can't hurt to try. Abbs, I'm going to send Detective Ellison down now rather than later. Please try not to scare the poor man."
"Me?" Abbs looked affronted at the very suggestion.
"Yes, you, and turn the racket down. Ellison's got sensitive ears." Gibbs retreated with a slight smile on his face, giving Abby a tiny wave as he strode off.
"Gibbbbbbbbbbs…" Abby yelled at the retreating back.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"All right, Dr. Sandburg. . ." Gibbs walked back into the bullpen, "I apologize for my abrupt departure, but I want this scumbag behind bars." Gibbs wasn't about to actually say sorry but he hoped that Blair Sandburg would accept the excuse as a valid reason for his behavior. "I should have asked you to join me in the conference room."
Blair stared long, and hard at Gibbs until the NCIS agent was actually forced to look away; one point to Blair. "Blair, Agent Gibbs, please."
"Blair," Gibbs acquiesced to the unspoken command; after all, he was on the back foot at the moment. "I've secured the conference room near forensics so we can lay out all the material we have so far."
"The evidence we brought back?" Blair asked, as he wanted Jim to look over it all, particularly the materials between the primary crime scene and the gun drop, as soon as possible.
"I've already warned Abby that I will be sending Ellison down. Ducky's also bagged the clothing that Williams had been wearing, said something about Ellison might be able to sniff out something important."
"You want to head down to forensics, Jim?' Blair asked his partner after Jim deposited his 'go' bag on one of the unclaimed desks.
"Not really," Jim sassed back, "but the sooner I get a look at everything, the sooner we can work out what's useful and what's not."
"No zoning, Jim. I mean it."
Jim, ignoring the audience, grabbed Blair and dragged him close before diving in for a long, deep, kiss.
"Hey, get a room," Gibbs and DiNozzo snarked in unison.
"Just getting my Blair level's up," Jim whispered to Blair as he pulled away. "Now, where's forensics?" Jim asked Gibbs, smirking all the while.
Gibbs glared at Ellison before he turned to the two other men, "You two follow me as well. I'll take you to the conference room, where I expect you to stay, while I then escort Ellison here down to forensics."
"Hey, I know the drill, man, so chill," Blair snapped at Gibbs. "We weren't the ones marching off and leaving unguarded visitors in the middle of a Federal Building," Blair was still thoroughly pissed with Gibbs and wasn't about to miss a chance to let the older man know he'd fucked up. The look of shock that Gibbs sent Blair's way made Blair smile, so many people, even those pre-warned, tended to expect him to be nothing more than a laid-back hippy.
Gibbs turned without replying, though this time the NCIS agent didn't march off so much as walk away, inviting the others to follow him,
"You got a death-wish there, Blair," Tony asked as he fell in beside Blair.
"Nope, just had too much experience with alpha-males," Blair smiled as he shot a wry look at Ellison. "I've found it's better to occasionally remind them I'm more than a pretty face."
"You never were just a pretty face, Chief."
"You say the nicest things, Jim," Blair smiled before he adopted a serious expression, "however, that doesn't mean you get Wonderburger for tea."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"All right, you think you can do better than my forensic tech?" Gibbs was asking as the two men walked into Abby's lab, "because I got to tell you, Abbs is hell on wheels."
"Oh Gibbs, you do say the nicest things." Abby commented before she turned and walked towards the men. Looking rather pointedly at Gibbs' empty hands though she started to frown. "Hey! Where's my Caf-Pow?"
"Haven't earned it yet, Abs."
"Spoilsport."
"My sympathies," Jim said to Gibbs as he looked at the forensic tech.
"Why?" Gibbs had no idea where that non-sequitur came from.
"She pouts almost as prettily as Sandburg," Jim nodded at Abby who was pouting, very prettily.
"Two of them?"
"Yep."
"Ellison, we are doomed."
"Hey," Abby interrupted the mutual condolence session. "You going to show me what you can do, hot stuff?" The challenge clear in her voice, after all, she was being told to let an outsider, and not even a forensic outsider, take first crack at the evidence.
"Don't let Sandburg hear you say that," Jim cautioned, "he gets a bit tetchy when challenged."
"I'm not challenging him," Abby assured Jim.
"Actually, you are. I'm good at investigative work and these senses are pretty useful," Jim acknowledged the open secret, "but Blair's the one who worked out how to use them to their fullest extent; so, questioning my ability is questioning his." The other skill sets that Jim possessed weren't mentioned, Gibbs knew some of it because of their past association but they were germane to the current investigation, yet.
"Fine," Abby wasn't the slightest bit mollified, nor was she really convinced even after Ducky had had a quiet word with her when Gibbs had gone back upstairs to collect the Cascade Detective. "Show me what you can do."
Jim looked at the array of bags on the table; the ones containing evidence from the Lovegrove Street address he ignored for the moment, wanting a chance to look over what else Blair, and company, had found. "Let's start with the gun, shall we?"
Jim stood by while he watched Abby record all the pertinent details about the currently bagged gun. Jim silently mused that it didn't matter what level of law enforcement, county, state or federal, the maintenance of chain of custody was vital to successful prosecution of any case; the down side was the often high overhead in recording all required details.
It was fully ten minutes before Abby unsealed the bag holding the model 21 Winchester side-by-side barreled shotgun. "Here you go, hotshot," Abby smiled as she handed the gun over to Jim.
Jim, well aware of how to properly handle evidence, had already donned a pair of gloves though these were gloves he'd brought down with him. Generic latex gloves often led to nasty rashes on his over-sensitive skin. Jim could make out a set of partial prints on the stock of the gun but he'd bet even money they belonged to Ted Williams; as he'd seen the man holding the gun those prints were of little or no evidential value. It was what appeared to be melted plastic fused to the barrel about a third of the way up from the stock and barrel tip, that looked the most promising aspect of the item in terms of overall forensic value. "Shit," Jim ended up swearing as he focused in close on the melted mass.
"Why?" Abby, a pair of magnifying glasses perched on her nose, asked.
"Our perp's not stupid, that's for sure." Jim grabbed a pair of tweezers and carefully peeled the plastic off the gun barrel. "See, you can just make out the fact that there are two layers here. I'd say the perp is wearing two sets of gloves."
Even with the magnifying glasses on, Abby could only just see what Ellison apparently could easily discern; she's have needed to look at the gun under the large microscope to have seen that detail and even then, she had to admit, she might not have realized as quickly.
"No chance of getting even a trace DNA pattern off that," Abby commented as she had a closer look at how much material they had to work with. van Oorschot and Jones had published the ground-breaking work in 1997 that proved you could get PCR DNA results from items that had been touched or held by someone, opening forensic DNA testing up to crimes where blood or semen hadn't been left behind; but even so the prosecution still needed sufficient material to test; admittedly not much but…
"Not if you want enough for a defense attorney to have material to re-test," Jim had seen enough fallout when crucial evidence wasn't available for independent re-testing; hell, law enforcement still talked about the mess that was the Dingo and the Baby in Australia, add in the recent fun with the OJ trials and no law enforcement officer worth his salt was going to pursue testing that could not be validated.
"So our murderer is aware of van Oorschot and Jones' work?" Abby mused.
"Hard to tell, he might just be extremely careful," Jim played devil's advocate which was fun for a change; normally Jim had to deal with Sandburg in that role to his theorizing. "Still, if the perp's been wearing two sets of gloves all the time, the chances of getting prints, finger or DNA, from stuff he's touched are minimal."
"So, does that tell us anything?"
"Sandburg thinks, already, that the perp's involved in law enforcement or the military or similar. Either way our perp's prints are likely to be in a database somewhere and the perp knows that; kind of narrows the field a bit."
"Sweet," Abby would have preferred to have been able to ring Gibbs and give him name, rank and serial number of the perp along with the size of his underwear but at least they had a small something to go on. "Anything else you can get from the gun, Jim?"
"Not that's going to help." Jim was already casting his eyes over the other bags of evidence neatly laid out on the laboratory's central bench. Two bags stood out; the bag of clothes that Ducky had brought up from Autopsy and the small bag that contained a few tufts of wool. "Hand me those will you, please?"
Abby watched, fascinated, as Jim carefully opened up the smaller bag, stuck his nose in and breathed deeply. "Huh?"
"First case I ever worked with Sandburg," Jim replied with a smile as he answered Abby's unspoken question, "involved tracking down a serial bomber. Some blue fibers, kind of like these, were left behind at one of the crime scenes."
"So?" The amount of material in the evidence bag was so small that Abby had been questioning the value of collecting it in the first place. At a best guess, unless the dye was some really exotic brand, all Abby had expected to be able to determine was whether or not it the fibers were natural or synthetic.
"The bomber, in that case, had been wearing a particular scent, specially mixed. After following Sandburg into every, and I mean every, perfume and specialist essential oils supplier in Cascade, I managed to work out the components and we were able identify the bomber from that. Sandburg keeps gong on, and on," Jim even went so far as to theatrically roll his eyes, "and on about how smell is one of our most powerful, yet under-rated senses."
"He's correct you know," Abby felt obliged to defend the absent scientist. "While body odor is affected by things like diet, health and various cultural mores, there is a genetic component as well."
Jim had to smile at that; never a truer set of words spoken. Take away the deodorants, cigar smell, and various perfumes and Jim could tell you that Daryl Banks was Simon and Joan's son just by smell. Hell, Blair smelled like a bit like Naomi and …
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
TBC…