Revenge Is Sweet
- Chapter 3: Evidence and Exploration -
DiNozzo and Ziva falter as they enter the room kitted out in NCIS overalls and caps, they breathe deeply before placing the crime scene kits on the floor. McGee stares around the room his eyes resting on the blood, he gulps and fights to stay in control as he lifts the camera and clicks the shutter. He is shaking as he moves to take a second photo, no other crime scene had meant as much as this. He feels a hand on his shoulder and sees Tony beside him, 'good job probie,' he nods and turns to continue his work. That small gesture from his senior made all the difference; he lifts the camera and snaps the crime scene from all angles, making sure nothing is missed.
Gibbs kneels on the floor beside the shawl and sniffs the faint aroma distinguishable from the blood, her smell. He looks over at Ziva and Tony both silently collecting samples from around the room, 'Evidence bag,' he asks quietly, his tone shocks the inhabitants of the room, they were expecting a gruff demand, not a soft, gentle request. Ziva passes him an evidence bag and watches as he lifts it from the floor studying it, he tries to hide the way he smells it as he drops it into the bag. She sees his face as he closes the bag and sees his pain; she averts her gaze and sees the blood on the floor. It had been hidden by the shawl, 'Boss,' she calls hurrying to get a closer look.
Tony, Gibbs and McGee all turned to look at the floor, 'lights!' Tony called to one of the probies and Ziva held up the blue light, they all stare in a stunned silence at the letters fluorescing before them. 'Sean Taylor' stared back at them from the floor, 'what does it mean?' Ziva asks moving the light around to check for further words or symbols. 'It was her mother's name,' Gibbs states also staring at the floor, he spots something beside Ziva. 'Ziva, don't move, he lifts her arm up so the light falls at her feet. He looks at the smears trying to work out what they could mean.
'Oh my,' came the strangled cry from the Scotsman as he stares into the room, he lifts his hand to his hat and removes it in respect. He walks towards the bed and examines the slashes in the dress, 'Duck I need anything that can help us find her body,' Gibbs speaks quietly; Dr Mallard nods gravely and continues his inspection. 'Boss, look, are those sick-people?' Tony looks at the floor and up at Ziva, 'It's stick-people Zee-Vah,' Gibbs looks back down to where Ziva is pointing, he squints down at the marks and growls in annoyance at his poor eyesight. 'Ziva what are they?' Ziva inspects the shapes more closely, 'it looks like a woman and a girl, they have little triangles for skirts, and the smaller one has a hoop around it,' 'a hoop?' 'yeah, a loop, a whirl, a circle!' Ziva finishes triumphantly finding the correct word.
'A circle around the smaller figure, hmmm,' Gibbs frowns as he looks into space, deep in thought. 'Boss, couldn't it just be saying Sean Taylor is Jenny's mother?' Gibbs nods, 'It could, but why her mother, what is so significant about her mother?' Gibbs looks around at Ducky and falters at the expression on his face. 'Jethro!' He calls, almost dancing, a huge grin spreading over his face. The team turn to look at him as he points at the slash marks on the dress, 'look at the way the blood is spattered across the material, the blood stains start on the front of the dress and have soaked through to the back of the dress and onto the bedspread,' Gibbs nods, 'look at the shape of the stains on the three layers,' Tony leans over as Gibbs moves the dress slightly, 'they're the same,' he turns confused to Dr Mallard.
'Look at the slashes, they go through both layers of material and into the bedspread,' Ziva adds, 'What does it mean?' Gibbs stands up his face determined and turns to his team, 'It means the crime scene was staged, she might still be alive.' 'McGee, finish up in here I want all the evidence to Abby in an hour, DiNozzo, Ziva, CCTV footage from 19.00 last night until I arrived. I wanna know who came near this room and when, and I wanna know who the director was with and when they arrived in their room, anyone suspicious I wanna know about it.'
Abby spins around on her chair as she hears the doors to her lab open, 'Gibbs!' she calls throwing her arms around him, 'You look like you need a hug,' she tells him from around his shoulder. 'Abby, what did you find?' She lets go and jumps to attention typing on her computer, 'All the blood is A positive,' 'same as Jen,' Abby nods, 'the words and stick people are made with the same blood, A positive and showing the same antibodies from previous infections, traces of oestrogen and progesterone, and large amounts of neutrophils, they're like the infantry of the blood, protecting barriers and barricades,' she sees Gibbs face, 'they increase after trauma. All the blood samples from the dress and bed show varying antibodies and traces of meds, normal levels of neutrophils,' 'so the blood wasn't all Jen's.'
Abby nods grinning, 'you're good, there could be as many as six or seven individuals blood in there, also,' she grins changing the screen on her computer, 'I matched the smeared prints on the stick people and words, they all match Director Shepard's right index finger,' Gibbs nods and turns to leave, 'there's more Gibbs,' Abby's expression darkens, 'I found seminal fluids and vaginal discharge on the bed spread, DNA matches the discharge to the Director, I've had no hits with the seminal fluid yet, or a fingerprint in blood on the room phone.' 'It wasn't Jens?' 'Most of them are, it seems someone tried to stop her calling and left us more than he planned,'
A fine shaft of light penetrates the grimy windows and casts an eerie glow in the centre of the room; a foot is visible protruding from the shadows. It is shaking and deathly white, the figure is wearing only underwear and a thin dirty shirt thrown over her. Her green eyes dart around the room looking for anything that might tell her where she is or for anything that might help her escape. She shakes with the cold, curling her knees towards her chest, her thigh screaming in agony. She makes no sound and her face is defiant, she bars her teeth beneath her lips as she tries to remove the ropes binding her wrists to the iron pole on the wall. She felt the blood oozing towards her wrists and heard the faint, drip, drip, as it hits the cold floor. As her wrists fall free she brings her arms to her front and examines the wound, she pulls the shirt over her shoulders and looks around at her tiny prison. She closes her eyes and images of the hotel room blur into one, a whirl of colour and sound, screaming and blood. Had he found her message, had he understood it, would he get to her in time?