Grave Matters

'That's unusual?'

'Real unusual! So Mark pulls up with the hearse, then him and me load the coffin. Just as we're wondering where the hell Mr. Black is, he comes out and jumps in the limo. To me, he looked sweaty, and…well, this is an opinion. Is that all right to express?'

'Sure, son.'

'Well, he looked like something was really bothering him. Freaked out, kinda.'

Brass leaned in. 'Any idea what was the matter?'

Doyle shook his head. 'No, sir. Not a clue.'

'You okay, Jimmy?' Brass gestured to the soda can. 'Help yourself, if you're thirsty.'

Shaking his head again, Doyle said, 'Never touch that junk-too much sugar.'

On his side of the mirror, Grissom frowned. But then, to his amazement and pleasure, the CSI saw Doyle pick up the soda can and move it next to the tape recorder, closer to Brass. 'But you can have it if you want, Captain Brass-won't bother me.'

Brass smiled again. 'Thanks, Jimmy. Maybe later.'

The interview continued, but the explosive aspects had all passed; everything else was mundane material about Doyle's work at Desert Haven. Soon the talk was over, and James Doyle was allowed to leave.

Grissom slipped into the interview room and carefully took charge of the soda can and transported it down to the lab for fingerprinting.

If the boy was telling the truth, the CSI could easily see how Dustin Black could have committed the crime.

Kathy Dean-shot to death the night before-is packed away in a matching coffin. The mortician knows his business, after all, and keeps his inventory, so only he will know that the two coffins are both gone.

Black sends Jimmy Doyle back into the chapel, for the conveniently missing flowers, and Mark Grunick out to fetch the hearse. This allows the mortician a minute, maybe even two, to make the well-planned switch. Storage rooms of various sorts are off the corridors of Desert Haven, each one under lock and key-locks and keys controlled by Black.

The mortician Black unlocks a door, rolls out a waiting cart with Kathy in the matching casket. He leaves that in the hall, and pushes Rita's casket somewhere, and hides it for later disposal, at his leisure….

No one would've found anything unusual about seeing the mortician rolling a casket cart along. Business as usual. But a nagging question remained-if Black's prints weren't on the murder weapon, then…whose were? And what about the hairs in Kathy's coffin that were not hers?

Grissom had dropped the soda can off and was heading back to his office when a voice from a doorway called out to him.

Archie Johnson-the slender Asian video tech-waved to him from a lab door, a self-satisfied grin playing on his lips.

'Got a second to look at something, Doctor Grissom?'

'As long as it's not another episode of Happy Tree Friends, Archie.'

Archie grinned. 'Almost as good…'

Grissom followed the young tech into the video lab where a black-and-white image was frozen on a monitor. Grissom moved closer and realized he was viewing the inside of a convenience store, from a security camera aimed at the door. Most of the front windows could be seen, the front counter and register as well. The picture quality was far superior to what Grissom might have expected from a convenience store security cam.

'How much have you made this image dance, Archie?'

'It's been to ballet class, all right,' Archie said. 'But nothing that'll preclude admissibility in court.'

'This image is that important?'

'You tell me…. The convenience store has decent equipment, but the tapes are crap and they've been erased and recorded over and over.'

'What am I looking at, Archie?'

'This is the Pahrump stop-and-shop where Sara picked up the tapes, and where she thought Kathy Dean might have rendezvoused with her lover.'

The phrase 'Pahrump paramour' came unbidden into Grissom's mind.

'Anyway,' the tech said, 'I've been looking at these tapes, beginnings and the ends, that is.'

Grissom nodded. 'Places where it was possible they might not've been taped over.'

'Right. Still, it was a slim chance…but I think maybe I found something.'

'Sometimes haystacks do give up needles.'

Archie nodded. 'This may be one of 'em…. I know this was three months ago, and it's only about five seconds of tape that might not even be the right day…but it could be.'

'Show me,' Grissom said, concentrating on the screen.

Archie hit PLAY and Grissom saw a male come in, and walk off camera; then the frame cut briefly to an obese woman in a flowered dress at the register, and then to an empty store-later recordings.

Archie was frowning at the screen. 'Did you see it?'

Grissom shook his head. 'See what?'

'I'll cue it up and freeze it this time.'

Archie did. The tape ran about a second and froze. Grissom saw the entryway of the store, a man in T-shirt and jeans walking in, his face down, a ball cap covering his hair.

'What am I supposed to see?' Grissom asked. 'If it's the guy, I'm not getting much….'

'No,' Archie said patiently. 'Look in the window.'

Grissom adjusted and followed the tech's instruction. At first he saw nothing; but when he stopped trying, the image revealed itself….

There, in the window, was a reflection of someone slightly out of camera range: a young woman with auburn hair and a Las Vegas Stars T-shirt…

…Kathy Dean.

So clearly could he see her that he could make out the dangling cords of the iPod earbuds.

'I see her, Archie-does she come on camera?'

'Barely-I think they both know the camera's there, and they're careful to avoid it. I don't know why. It's not like they're robbing the place….'

'Still, they're not taking any chances,' Grissom said. 'The girl is paranoid about her over-protective parents…and whoever's under that ball cap may well know he's about to commit murder.'

Archie grunted. 'Date night in Vegas.'

'Nice catch, Archie. Play it all the way through, will you?'

The lab tech did.

Eyes on the window, Grissom watched Kathy and her baseball cap date embrace, then turn and go.

Frustrated, Grissom asked, 'We never see his face at all?'

'There's one second worth a close look,' Archie said. He cued up the tape, ran it to the point just before the guy pushed open the door to leave, his arm around Kathy, both of them with their backs to the camera. 'Check out the glass door.'

At first Grissom couldn't make out anything but shadows. Then Archie did a frame-by-frame advance, walking Grissom through, and suddenly the face appeared in the window.

Even though the hat covered the man's hair and the guy did his best to keep his face lowered, for a second frozen in time, Grissom could see the face clearly.

This, at last, was the evidence he needed.

'How did I do, Grissom?'

'Archie-A-plus-plus.'

The lab tech grinned just as Grissom's cell phone trilled.

'Grissom.'

'It's me,' Sara said. 'Talked to Janie Glover. She says FB means Funeral Boy. You'll never guess who that is!'