CHAPTER 11
AN: I BS'd the part about the bullet casing, and other forensic stuff in this chapter.
Tim sat down at his computer and began typing away. He also got on the phone and requested hardcopies. Ziva made her way down to the lab.
Abby was sucking hard on a Caf-Pow when Ziva walked in. It sounded like she had hit the bottom and was still trying for more. Abby slammed the cup down hard on the table. “This is as frustrating as hell, Ziva. I have been looking at this for...forever. I can’t see anything more. I don’t know what I’ve missed.”
“That is why I am here.” Ziva announced. “You need fresh ears.”
“Actually, Ziva, the term is fresh EYES.” Abby said, giving Ziva a huge hug. “And yes I do.”
Ziva hugged her back.
“Any more on Tony?” Abby asked stepping back and turning back to the evidence table.
Ziva shook her head going around to the other side of the table. “Not since Gibbs returned.”
Ziva’s phone rang and she snatched it up on the second ring. “David.”
“Yes.” Ziva said, her expression darkening.
“I see. Yes, Gibbs. I will.”
Abby was beside herself listening to Ziva’s end of the conversation. “What Ziva? What? Is it about Tony?”
Ziva walked around the table and hugged her. “He had an episode where…where his heart stopped.” Ziva paused, willing herself not to cry. “But they got it restarted quickly and he is stable now.”
Ziva could hear Abby crying. Neither woman said anything for a moment.
“I can’t lose him, Ziva, not like this.” Abby moved away from Ziva wiping the tears from her eyes. “And what does that mean 'stable'? I hate that word. I watch all those medical shows. They say the person is stable and 10 minutes later he’s dead.”
“Abby.” Ziva said, trying to calm Abby down. “The faster we review this evidence and find out who did this. The quicker you can get to the hospital to be with Tony.”
Abby nodded. She and Ziva got to work.
Abby put the picture up on the screen of the two bullet casings the striations did indeed match from Ziva’s perspective and limited knowledge of the subject. “These came from the same type weapon.” Abby said. “That was easy enough to figure out, no problem there. There is too much weathering on the casing left at the scene to determine if it is from the same gun. The piece of flannel shirt is useless. It is ordinary fabric. No special manufacturer. There is no DNA material of any kind on it.”
“Any shooter worth his salt is going to cop-out his brass, as Gibbs says. But they might not be careful in the storage of their ammo. ”
Abby was pacing at this point. “Police his brass. But yeah, you’re right. He would. One thing they stress to these guys, Gibbs said, is how to take care of their weaponry, their guns AND their ammo.”
Ziva nodded and turned to the pictures on the computer screen. “So, is there some way to tell when they were fired?”
“Very good, Ziva. Very Good.” Abby said, smiling. “I have been so worried about Tony I didn’t run that test. We had just assumed they were fired recently. And actually Ziva, the answer to your question is no. There is a test for gunpowder residue. But it is easily altered by ‘the elements.’ That makes it notoriously unreliable.” Abby said, fully animated now, walking around the lab and talking with her hands, also. “There is a test that measures the amount of weathering, how long it has been exposed to the elements. But that, also, is not a reliable test.”
“How do you mean?” Ziva asked.
“For the gunpowder, rain can wash away a part of the sample giving the test a false reading. As for the weathering, I could leave a casing out in a field for a week. I could take it out of the elements and put it away somewhere, not clean it and relocate it to another field and leave it there for another week. It will show what might happen in a couple weeks time. But the circumstances and the time line would be way off.”
Ziva nodded. “And since we suspect this crime scene has fabricated evidence.” Ziva paused. “The casings are useless.”
“The casings are useless.” Abby repeated.
TBC
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