They had secured the Senator's offices badly. There should have been more space left around the building. Instead, the area lined off by police officers and security guards was claustrophobic, and the media outside were using up all the air. Microphones and had been shoved into Gibbs and Burley's faces as soon as they had stepped from the car, all of them recognising the blank vehicle and overcoats and shouting their names. Burley had ducked through the flashes and jumble of cameras and wires to make it out, obviously experienced in this field. Gibbs looked ahead of him. Burley had already switched to press mode, and seemingly aware he was more experienced in this arena and leading Gibbs behind him, began weaving heavily through the pressing journalists and mixing between charismatic smile and humourless investigator. They had seemed to know Burley well, better than the media should know any ordinary senator's ex-aide.
The two agents finally emerged from the mess and began walking toward the building's elaborate revolving door. "Tell me you didn't say anything to them, Gibbs," Burley said, stepping up inside the building. He'd seen Gibbs in action against the press and he wanted to make sure that off all cases, this wasn't the one affected by it.
"One asked me about a conspiracy and a cheating mother and then - - some story about a drug problem that I didn't really understand. It may have also involved an illegitimate sister."
"You'll get used to it," Burley said, smiling.
"Death shouldn't be entertainment, Stan. I hope I never do."
Burley stepped in to the elevator ahead of Gibbs, who followed authoritatively. Burley leant over and pressed the fifth floor button. The elevator doors stayed open, waiting for those few more passengers that it didn't know weren't coming.
"You miss this place, Stan?"
"Certain things about it," Burley said, looking toward the top of the door, waiting.
"Your boss?"
Neither seemed to be willing to look at the other.
"Only when I worked for you." Burley finally smiled.
Gibbs smiled back.
The elevator doors finally closed.
Without a pause, Burley instantly switched to back to investigator mode as he stepped out on to the fifth floor. "NCIS," he said, walking over to the young receptionist. Burley didn't recognise her, but then again, David tended to change receptionists as often as he changed his bed sheets.
She smiled sweetly, almost too sugary for either of their tastes. "Senator Burke has been expecting you, Agents. He's the first door on the left."
Gibbs and Burley nodded their thanks and began walking down the hall.
The whole place smelled like cigarettes and mothballs, although no one they'd seen so far seemed to be smoking and neither of them had noticed any cupboards or drawers lying around that desperately called out to be cleansed of a moth infestation. It did, however, give the building a certain sense of age, and neither Gibbs nor Burley felt like it was a crowd that they readily fitted into.
As they had stepped out of the cold, silver elevator, they had both instantly noted the transformation from October-painted walls and plasterboard reception desks to crimson patterned carpeting and rich mahogany timber. Olive and maroon leather-bound legal textbooks seemed to bound the walls of every office they walked past, seemingly unused since their purchase as they collected layer upon layer of dust and grime, reflecting the wearying men sitting at their desks in front of them.
For over ten years, Burley had called this building his life. From sharpening pencils to scribing transcripts to typing up proposals for the Senate, he would follow close on the heels of David, or whoever else he happened to be working for at the time, like an overgrown puppy. It would have been frustrating for them if the kid hadn't been as good as he was or hadn't been practically been stumbling over his own feet in his eagerness to impress and climb.
The only times Gibbs had worked with Senators was when they had been ex-marines. Any other stories he'd heard from co-workers had involved long, drawn out investigations, lack of co-operation and striking amounts of arrogance and self-importance. Senators in Washington were known for their climbing abilities, and there was a reason why many had fallen off the ladder as they'd stepped to the next sprung.
With all this information at bay, Gibbs had walked into David Burke's office expecting to see a silver-haired, double-breasted suit and tie, already walking toward them with a hand outstretched waiting to be accepted. Instead, the man sat there stiffly, looking civilian and mussed in his crinkled suit and worked-down tie, a glass of scotch clenched between his fingers.
He did however, stand slowly with a pained smile to welcome Stan as he entered the room. He walked out from behind his desk, drew Burley's hand in to a shake and threw his other arm around Stan's shoulders, pulling him into somewhat of an embrace.
"Hey, boss," Burley said.
"It's good to see you again, Stan," Burke said, removing his arm from around the agent's shoulders. "I only wish it were under better circumstances." Burke had almost been youthful before today; sudden lines and a cherry pink smear had been added to the corners of his eyes.
"I'm so sorry, David," Burley said.
"It's good to know that you'll be assisting on the case," Burke said. He sighed heavily, the breath coming out a little unsteadily. He rested his rear against the edge of his thick timber desk and extended his hand to the two seats in front of him, offering them to the agents.
"I guess you should be thanking him for convincing me to join the Service," Burley replied, taking a seat. Gibbs followed.
"Yes," Burke smiled. "Harry always did think that you were in the wrong line-of-work. I honestly hope he was right."
Burley smiled softly.
"We're very sorry for your loss, Senator," Gibbs said.
"I don't think I have the time for you to be considerate, Agents," Burke said, dropping his glass to the table. "Ask me what you need to. I've done my bit for the press and I'd like to get home to my wife as soon as possible."
Burley looked toward Gibbs who nodded his ‘go ahead'.
"Please," Burke said. "I'll tell you anything I can to help you find my son's killer."
"We're not sure if it was a murder, Senator," Gibbs said. He could feel Burley's glare bearing straight into the side of his head. He ignored it.
"What are you suggesting my son's death was then, Agent Gibbs?" Burke suddenly sat a little straighter.
"Your son was fatally wounded from a gunshot. The bullet found belonged to Harrison's own service weapon."
Burke's eyes clouded over and his body was swiftly raised from the desk. "Are you suggesting that my son committed suicide?" He looked to Burley to confirm or deny his question. Burley looked sympathetically toward him. Gibbs stayed silent.
"I can tell you now that my son's death was not a suicide, Gibbs. I want to know who the hell killed him!" Burke's words suddenly choked in his throat. He exhaled and pressed the heel of his hand to his face, fingers wiping ineffectually against his eyes.
Agreement was the only route Gibbs figured he could take: Burke could not be comforted and would not respond to any syrupy attempts at conciliation. He could never have gotten closer by apologizing; it meant nothing that he was sorry for Burke's loss. It would have to be enough that he and his old colleague, his friend, were there. He couldn't offer solace that was better than agreement.
"Okay, Senator, what about you? Do you know anyone who might've wanted to use your son to get to you?"
Burke's smile was perfect, graceless. "The list is over a hundred pages long."
It was probably true, but still, something tugged at him.
"Is there anyone that stands out in particular? Political opponents, protestors?" Burley asked.
"Not really." He sighed. "None stupid enough to risk that kind of a blow to their name if caught. And none willing to commit a murder to do so."
"What about Osiris?" Gibbs asked. "Your son was the heir to the company. Any opponents or colleagues that would've wanted him out of the picture?"
Burke sat back down on the edge of his desk. "As much as the media make out that we are, not everyone at the top of the commercial world is a tyrant, Agent Gibbs. Any opponents I have are also with me on a Friday night at the local bar. The only person I've pissed off lately has been . . . But that's not even worth discussing . . ."
"What's not?"
"In a few days we were due to sign a merger with Taylor Square Productions. It was about to put the Saturn Network out of the picture in terms of advertising. Harry was a signatory to the deal. It's obviously not going ahead now because of . . . this . . . but Roy wasn't the kind to take to - - "
"Roy . . . " Gibbs prodded.
"Roy Stein. CEO of Saturn. But, Agent Gibbs, it's a route that I can honestly say isn't worth pursuing . . . "
"If it leads me to your son's killer, Senator, I think I'll be the judge of that."
- - - -
Tony woke up staring at the tiny clock on his phone, which told him that it was five-fifty in the afternoon and that Kate had let him sleep for ten minutes more than he should have. He shifted and almost fell from his chair as he straightened. The banging and cluttering around from across the room had to be Kate, and he knew that she was doing it deliberately to wake him up. Still, the precious few minutes of sleep had put him in a good humour, even if they hadn't taken away his exhaustion, so he was willing enough to not throw any paperclips at her. Just yet.
He rearranged his shirt, smoothing down wrinkles, and wiped a smudge of tomato sauce of his sleeve, where it had apparently come to rest next to his second burger of the day. He looked up, hoping that Kate would be a little rumpled herself, and knowing that she wouldn't be. She was shuffling papers and files around her desk with a phone pressed to her ear.
"Get anything yet?" he asked her.
"I might have if there were two agents trying," she replied, not taking her eyes off a file in her hand.
Tony grinned through heavy eyelids. "Nothing in the parent's wills? No voting registration files?"
Kate dropped a tax return from ninety-nine down on to the desk. "Nothing."
"Okay, so we've done - - "
"I've done - - "
Tony glared at her. " - - universities, social security numbers . . . "
"Employment records, inheritance information, hospital records, everything. It's like they've both legally changed their names without any paperwork to show it. I guess a word in from the senator might have helped them disappear."
Dinozzo sighed and pressed a hand to his face, cutting his profile into two jagged pieces. "You know, back in Baltimore we were always told to record any aliases or name changes. And the way their mother talked about them, you'd think that they'd at least have robbed a few Easy Marts, been picked up for dope a few times. Maybe we should check out some police reports."
Kate looked up. "You know, that's not bad idea, DiNozzo. You can have moments of brilliance when you want to."
Tony grinned boyishly. "Moments?"
"Well, you couldn't strain your brain all the time could you?" She smiled wickedly. "Something might break."
"I think a few things already have," Gibbs said, walking back into the bullpen. Burley followed closely in tow. "Now tell me you've not spent three hours worried about the sturdiness of DiNozzo's brain."
Tony leapt from his seat. "Well, we haven't got anything yet, boss. I just thought that we should try checking some police reports for aliases and . . . "
Gibbs stopped walking and turned back to glare at him.
" . . . and I should've thought to do that three hours ago," Tony said, returning sheepishly to his desk.
"Burley," Gibbs continued. "I want you to check out this Stein guy. Everything about the Saturn Network on my desk within the hour. DiNozzo, Todd, you find Dean and Emma and interview them tonight."
Gibbs grabbed a file from his desk and began walking toward the elevator.
Tony took a seat behind his desk and pulled out a stack of files. "It'll take forever to go through these. We'll be interviewing them at four in the morning."
"Maybe if you'd had your moment of brilliance a little earlier we wouldn't be," Kate replied.
"Maybe if you'd had any moments of brilliance - - "
"Well it was a bit hard to concentrate with the snoring coming from across the room - - "
"I do not snore - - "
"Oh, please."
" - - that loudly . . . "
"Guys," Burley said. "I think I've got something for you - - "
The two agents continued to bicker over the top of him.
"The Director could've heard you, Tony - - "
Burley threw a robbery from eighty-nine at Tony's head before any words came out of his mouth. Tony looked over to him, poison flashing through his eyes.
"I said I found something, Tony," Burley said. "Cocaine bust in two thousand and five. Called himself Dean Westwood."
Tony was already standing and reaching for the drawer with his I.D. and weapon. "Address?"
Kate pulled the file up on her own computer screen. "Told the cops he was living with a girlfriend at the time . . . "
"Where'd they pick him up?" Tony asked.
"A park downtown. Why?" Kate asked.
"He'll change his girlfriend more often than he changes his pickup joint," Tony said, throwing his jacket over his shoulder.
Kate collected her own gun. "What? You think we should go to the park?"
"DiNozzo's right, Kate," Burley said. Tony smiled at her. "It's a Saturday evening. He'll be going out tonight. LSD, Eccies. Might get lucky."
Kate holstered her weapon and smiled wickedly at Tony. "Too bad you won't be tonight, DiNozzo."
"Never know," he smiled. "Women find men who visit the park a turn on, Katie."
Kate snarled and pulled on her jacket.
"I'm driving - - "
"I'm driving - - "
Their voices came out over the top of each other before they both bolted for the set of keys sitting on Gibbs' desk.
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