Grave Matters

The gentleness of Grissom's tone calmed her, and she considered the question finally. 'We would notice a disturbance in the ground. We are very particular about our landscaping. We're proud of the service we perform.'

'As well you should be,' Grissom said with a nod and a smile.

'But what about,' Brass asked, 'before the body is buried?'

Shaking her head, Glenda said, 'The caskets are locked, for one thing; and for another, there are people at the graveside for the service….'

'Always?'

'Usually. Then after that, the vault is sealed and the vault with the coffin is lowered, then covered. The only people who would have any opportunity at all, for what you're suggesting, are Bob and Joe, and they're both good men.'

'Can you give us their full names?'

'Roberto Dean and Joseph Fenway,' she said, 'but you're wrong about them.'

Grissom smiled again. 'We don't have any opinion about them, Mrs. Nelson.'

Brass was jotting the names in his notebook when Bob showed up on a rider lawn mower. They thanked Mrs. Nelson again, and she nodded rather coldly, and they went out to greet their old friend Bob, who already knew what they needed from Mrs. Nelson's walkie-talkie summons.

In the Taurus, Grissom and Brass followed the rider mower around to section B, row 3, plot 117-and found the open grave from which they had removed the vault this morning.

'Bob,' Brass said out the car window, 'you're sure this is plot 117? Section B, row 3?'

Bob, sitting on his mower, made a face, and not a terribly intelligent one. 'Think I'm likely to make a mistake like that?'

'Of course not,' Grissom said. 'But do you have a map, or chart…?'

Bob had both-a map of the entire cemetery and a chart of section B. He withdrew them from a back pocket of his dirty jeans and unfolded them and came over like a carhop to share them with the detective and the CSI.

'Bob,' Grissom said, studying the folded sheets, 'this is the right grave, right?'

Bob nodded, and there was pride in his voice when he said, ' 'Round here, guy's gotta be careful what hole he sticks it in.'

'Words of wisdom.'

Waving at Bob from the Taurus, they drove back to the office and found Glenda fidgeting behind her desk and not terribly happy to see them return.

'Are you satisfied now?' she asked. 'It was the right grave, wasn't it?'

Brass shook his head. 'Right grave-wrong body.'

Glenda's voice got very small. 'This is terrible…this is awful…. Our reputation…'

His charming smile nowhere in sight, Grissom said, 'Don't you think the loved ones of the deceased deserve better than your concern for your reputation?'

Glenda swallowed and stared at nothing. 'You're right…. I should be ashamed.' Then she raised bright, alarmed eyes, gesturing to herself. 'Certainly you people don't think we had anything-'

Brass hesitated, and Grissom stepped in. 'We don't think one of your employees did this.'

Relief softened her features.

'But,' Grissom added, 'that doesn't mean they didn't. We just have no evidence to support that notion…so we'll be looking other places.'

Cutting in, Brass said, 'Like for starters, the funeral home that officiated over Rita Bennett's service.'

'Which one was that?' Glenda asked.

Brass's voice stayed remarkably even and sarcasm free. 'We were kind of hoping you could tell us.'

'Certainly.' The file was still on Glenda's desk and she thumbed through it, then said, 'Mr. Black's establishment.' She found half a smile somewhere. 'I should've known-they're the biggest mortuary in Las Vegas. They do most of the funerals involving clients with money. And this Rita Bennett? If it's not too disrespectful for me to say so?…She was loaded.'

'We know,' Brass said.

'Does that make this more suspicious?' Glenda asked, eyebrows knitted.

'You know,' Grissom said, 'I think finding the wrong body in a coffin is suspicious enough.'

She was pondering that as they went out.

Nick had bagged two more of the short black hairs, as well as a thin white fiber, and tested the maroon drops (just to make sure they were blood), before Sara finally ambled back into the garage.

'What does our friend AFIS have to say?'

Sara shook her head. 'Not chatty yet-Jacqui loaded the prints into Missing Persons, too.'

'Anything?'

'Not so far…but it was just getting started.'

Nick sighed and gestured toward the girl in the casket. 'Well…time for the coming out party?'

'Why not.'

Sara pulled over a gurney and locked down the wheels. As she did, Nick put his latex-gloved hands under the body's shoulders and lifted her up and out; there was some resistance before the head finally tore loose from the pillow, leaving behind a glob of dried blood and some hair.

Looking at the back of the woman's head, Nick could see the reason for the blood: a small black hole, no bigger around than a ballpoint pen.

'Entrance wound,' he said.

Sara snatched up the camera and snapped four photos of the tiny aperture. 'No exit?'

'Doesn't look like it.'

She raised an eyebrow. 'Small caliber, huh?'

Nick nodded. 'Twenty-two, maybe.'

'Or a twenty-five?…No sign of defense wounds.'

Nick twitched a grimace. 'She didn't see it coming.'

'Maybe that's not such a bad thing…. The killer-we agree there's a killer now, right?'

'We agree there's a killer now. Right.'

'The killer? He or she went to a whole lot of trouble to get rid of the body. This wasn't some random act.'

'Not hardly.' Nick trained tight eyes on Sara. 'If the killer didn't know her, if it was just a thrill kill or something…why not just leave her where she dropped?'

Sara set down the camera. 'Point well-taken-the killer must have known her.'

'That makes sense, but Grissom'll want more.'

'He's not the only one.'

'Yeah?'

Sara nodded at the dead girl. 'She wants it, too.'

The two of them lifted the girl out of the coffin and carefully laid her on the gurney. To Nick, even though he held the heavier end, the young woman felt feather light. It was said that when a person dies, their body weight drops by twenty-one grams; but this vic seemed to have lost much more than that.

Releasing the brake on the gurney, Sara prepared to take the body over to Doc Robbins for the autopsy. 'Coming, Nick?' she asked.

'Not just yet. Now that it's empty, I want to go over this coffin….'

'Good thought. You want me to come back, and help?'

'No, that's okay. I got it-not really room enough for two of us, nosing around in there anyway. You see what the autopsy has to tell us, and I'll catch up with you.'

She said, 'Sure thing,' then pushed the gurney across the garage and through the doors into the corridor.

Alone with the coffin and vault now, Nick went to work. He started with the casket: They had been very careful about touching it while they worked, and so the first thing to do was to fingerprint the box; their own prints