Body of Evidence

Instead, puffing up, the aide said, 'That's exactly why he should stay on the case, and spearhead the investigation! The sheriff can demonstrate that he's the one man in Las Vegas who can keep the city safe.'

To his credit, Mobley was having none of it; he was, in fact, shaking his head and patting the air, trying to slow down his overly aggressive aide.

'Why, you can't buy this kind of publicity!' Anthony crowed.

Speaking for the first time since Mobley entered, Grissom said, 'And you wouldn't want to.'

All eyes turned toward the criminalist, as he rose and stepped from around the desk; he edged past the mayor and stood at Brass's side.

'With all due respect, Mr. Anthony,' Grissom said, 'your advice to your candidate couldn't be more inappropriate.'

The political hack seemed to notice for the first time Grissom's presence in his own office. 'I… know…you,' he rumbled. 'You've caused us trouble before!'

Grissom's smile was tiny, if large with condescension. 'There are two reasons why your plan won't work.'

'Which are?'

'Number one: your client, the sheriff.' Grissom nodded toward Mobley, who also seemed only to have recently noticed the CSI's presence. 'He has something to gain by this woman's death-the embarrassment and perhaps downfall of his opponent in the mayoral race-so there's no way he can work the case.'

Anthony said, 'I said we haven't announced yet, and anyway, we can find a work-around….'

Grissom's eyes met Mobley's; Mobley's met Grissom's.

'Be quiet, Ed,' the sheriff said, resigned, clearly accepting what Grissom had already said and probably knowing what was coming next.

'And two,' the CSI supervisor said, 'because the sheriff has something to gain, that also makes him a suspect.'

Anthony started to puff up again, but Mobley held up a hand, like a traffic cop. 'The man's right, Ed.'

'A suspect!' the aide snorted. Then he blustered: 'The sheriff can't be a suspect…. You can't be a suspect, Sheriff….'

Mobley faced his campaign manager. 'Ed, here are your options: either shut the hell up, or go wait in the car.'

Stunned, Anthony took a step backward.

The sheriff's attention turned completely to Grissom. 'Gil, you and Jim will have complete autonomy in this investigation. Every asset of the LVMPD is at your disposal.' He turned to Brass. 'I can put that in writing, if you consider it advisable.'

A syllable that might have been 'no' escaped from Anthony.

Brass said, 'Since that's not our standard procedure, I don't believe it's necessary. But if you anticipate elements within the department who might want to work against you…well, then maybe you should repeat what you just said to us, in your public statement.'

Eyes narrowed, Mobley nodded. 'I like that.'

Bored with politics, Grissom said, 'We need to talk DNA.'

'You've got DNA already?' Mobley asked, surprised.

'Not yet.' Grissom held out a swab. 'But wouldn't you like to be eliminated as a suspect as soon as possible?'

Mobley opened his mouth, perhaps to comply, but Grissom seized the moment and took the swab.

The CSI bestowed the sheriff a small smile. 'Thank you, Brian.'

Anthony, apparently not able to contain himself further, stepped forward. 'This really is disgraceful, Dr. Grissom. Your behavior-'

Grissom used another swab on the open mouth of the startled aide.

Pleasantly, the CSI said, 'You're a suspect, too, Mr. Anthony. You also stand to gain from this woman's death. And I'm sure you're eager to be cleared, as soon as possible.'

Speechless for a change, Anthony stood there, staring in dismayed wonder at the criminalist.

Mobley's attitude, however, remained professional. His face moving from Brass to Grissom and back, he said, 'We've had our differences, gentlemen. But I appreciate what you're trying to do. All I ask is that you catch whoever did this thing.'

Dealing with the swabs, Grissom beamed and said, 'We're processing evidence as we speak.'

Diplomatically, Brass said, 'Sheriff, we already have some leads-we're on top of it.'

Mobley seemed to stare into nothing for several moments; he sighed, tasted his tongue, then asked, quietly, 'Did either of you know the Lewis girl? Ever meet her?'

Brass shook his head; Grissom, too. Anthony lurked on the periphery, hanging back now-since the swabbing, he seemed a little afraid.

Meanwhile, Mobley joined the sad choreography of shaking heads. 'Hell of a nice kid. Bright. Going places. I really liked her, even if she was working for Harrison.'

Anthony, his voice different, said, 'For a while there, we were dealing with Candace…Ms. Lewis…more often, more directly, than the mayor.'

Mobley shifted on his feet; his tone shifted, too. 'Jim…Gil…Even though my candidacy hasn't been announced, I'm not gonna lie to you-I want to be mayor. With the exception of my family, my career is the most important thing in my life, and this is the biggest career move I've ever contemplated…. But I do not relish becoming mayor thanks to the misfortune of another. Not Candace Lewis, not Darryl Harrison. I want this badly… but not like this. Never like this.'

Grissom had to admire the dignity of that.

Brass seemed a little embarrassed by Mobley's earnestness. He said, 'I've only met the mayor once or twice, Brian-what can you tell me about him?'

The sheriff thought about that for a moment. Then a little smile blossomed and he even summoned a rueful laugh. 'Maybe I'm not the one you should be asking.'

'But I am asking,' Brass insisted.

Grissom watched the interplay with interest: he didn't know if Brass was fishing for something, or was maybe taking the opportunity to make Mobley squirm.

Finally, after a long sigh, Mobley said, 'I will tell you this: Darryl Harrison's a good man. We have different political views, but have I nothing to say about him, negatively, on a personal level.' He shrugged. 'I just don't happen to think he's the right man to lead Las Vegas for the next four years.'

'Then he's honest?' Brass asked.

'Far as I know,' Mobley replied, with a nod.

'No skeletons in the closet?'

The sheriff grunted a mirthless laugh. 'Why don't you just ask it, Jim-was he sleeping with her?'

Brass's smile was there, then gone. Grissom wondered if he'd really seen it or just thought he had.

'Well-was he?' the detective asked.

'I don't know. And I don't have to tell you, we didn't conduct the investigation into the disappearance. That was the FBI. And if the federal boys found any evidence of Harrison and the girl having an affair, they didn't share it with me.'

'The tabloids say they were.'

'How seriously do you take that?'

A beat, and then Brass asked, 'No plans to hint at it in the campaign?'

'I can't say we didn't discuss it,' Mobley said. 'Frankly, it was Ed here who was pushing for it, and you can ask him yourself-I told him there was no way I wanted to go there.'

They all glanced at Anthony, who confirmed his boss's story with a nod. But then, he would, wouldn't he? Grissom thought.

Brass said, 'I'm aware your official press position's been that you won't discuss it.'

Mobley nodded insistently. 'That's right. Exactly right.'