Thank you, again:D I was having a little trouble with this chapter, but I managed with the reviewer support. Enjoy!
Chapter 5
Mac sat in his office, looking around tiredly. He'd never once thought something like this could happen. How does something like this happen? He supposed that's what all the family and friends of a victim thought when they received the news. And Mac didn't like being in their shoes. If was very uncomfortable, not knowing. What was worse than not knowing what's happening to a close colleague?
He was surprised that Missing Persons Unit hadn't taken over yet, but he wasn't complaining. As far as Mac was concerned, this case was his. And he wasn't going to give it up.
Pushing his chair back, he walked out his office to find Stella and Aiden. He knew he should have been helping them, but...he had needed to think first. Before he could focus his mind on the evidence, he had to clear his mind on all unnecessary and unwanted thoughts. Like the fact that Danny had tried to ask for help (which must have been hard for the obstinate CSI), but they'd been too busy to listen. That one got Mac right in the chest. Or the fact that his CSI was somewhere wounded (he didn't doubt all the blood at the scene was Danny's) with a man obsessed with getting revenge on something Danny had had no control over.
He was woken from his taboo thoughts (that he hadn't meant to be thinking at all) when Aiden called his name. "What've you got?"
"I couldn't find any fingerprints from the letter or the envelope Stella gave me. But some good news? Even though it was hard, I managed to take a sample of the blood from the letter," Aiden hesitated.
"Aiden? What is it?" He knew what she was going to say. It was too apparent. He still wanted to hear it, because there was a part of him that hoped he was wrong. But his subconscious knew he was all too right.
"It doesn't match any of the blood taken from Danny's apartment. And since we know it isn't Danny's blood on the letter..." she trailed off, knowing there was no need to continue.
"So...the blood on the letter is Lamburg's?"
"I can't say for sure that it's Lamburg's, because I had nothing to compare it to and he may have used somebody else's. But if we were to assume that he's pulling through with his threat, then yes, he did it."
"Let's go find Stella," Mac said. "Maybe she's found something."
"No need, Mac. I'm right here."
Mac turned to find Stella standing behind him and stepped back so the three of them formed a triangle. "Did you find anything?"
"The vase was made here in New York. I was able to find the store it was sold at and it turns out it was handmade, so there isn't another one like it. It was made by a couple who own a small clayware business on the lower east-side."
"Good. You go talk to them. Take a picture of Lamburg and ask them if he's ever bought something there." Stella inclined her head and set off to do as what was asked of her. "Aiden, you and I are going to get hold of Danny's phone records. Maybe he received another call."
Stella stepped into the quaint little shop. Pots, mugs, statues and vases lined the shelves, decorated with birds and flowers of many colours. Even a few wind chimes hung from the ceiling. But she wasn't interested in what was on the shelves. Approaching the counter where a little old lady sat reading a cooking magazine, she knocked on the table to catch her attention. The lady looked up.
"Oh, hello, dear. How may I help you?"
"I'm Stella Bonasera from the New York crime lab, and I was wondering if you could answer a few questions."
"Oh, my! The crime lab? Has someone been murdered?"
Stella inhaled sharply at the thought. "No, no. No one has been murdered. I just need to ask a few questions for an investigation."
"Well, let me get my husband in case I don't remember anything," the lady suggested, and slowly hobbled off into another room. Stella assumed that was the room in which the clay was shaped, fired, and painted. While the lady was gone, the CSI took the time to look at some of the things they had in stock. They were really beautiful...
Her head snapped up as the lady and her husband entered the main room. "This is my husband, Harold. Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. My name's Rose. Harold, this young lady's from the crime lab."
"Crime lab? We haven't done nothin'."
"She just wants to ask us a few questions. Go on, dear."
Stella plastered a fake smile on her face and pulled out the picture. "Do either of you remember seeing this man in here before?"
The elderly couple took the picture, and stared at if for several seconds. "He looks familiar," stated the old woman. "Don't you think, Harold?"
"Yeah, yeah. Remember him. Came in here...what? Two days ago?"
"I think it was yesterday," Rose said, tapping her chin. "He came in and bought one of our vases. Said it was for a friend. It was one of our best, if I do say so myself."
Stella handed them another picture, one of a recreation of the vase. "Was this it?"
"Why, yes. That's it. Why do you have it?"
"It is part of our investigation. Thank you for your time," Stella said, taking the pictures back. She turned on her heels and walked out of the store. Now they knew Jim bought the vase. All they had to prove is that he used it.
"Something doesn't make sense here, Aiden," Mac said, becoming frustrated. "It says he got a call last night at 9:15 last night, the only one aside from ours today."
Aiden's brow knit in confusion. "So?"
"So why would he wait until the next morning to attack? That would have given Danny time to up and leave to somewhere else. And another thing. The neighbours said they called it in ten minutes after the fight, right?" Aiden nodded. "We received the call just after noon, maybe ten minutes after they called it in. But that's impossible. Danny would have been on his way here hours before."
Her eyes widened in comprehension. "Their stories don't match Danny's day-to-day time line."
"We need to talk to the neighbours that called it in again."
"Hey, guys," Stella greeted, taking a seat beside them. "Lamburg did go to that shop, and he was the one who bought the vase."
"Great," Aiden said. "Mac found an inconsistency in the neighbours' stories. Turns out the attack couldn't have happened when they said it did. Danny would have been on his way to work way before."
"Very contradictory," Stella concluded. "Everything is falling so neatly in place. If only it had sooner...So are we going to talk to them or what?"
"Mrs and Mr Clearwater. We're here because you're account of when the struggle occurred could not have taken place when it did," Mac stated evenly, though his blood was unmistakably boiling. Stella and Aiden could not help the cold looks they were giving to the couple before them.
Amy Clearwater played with her hands as she and her husband sat in their home across from the three CSI. She was obviously uneasy, but her husband, Rick, kept his face stoic. "We did not lie, if that's what you're implying."
"It is, and you did," Stella glowered. Why couldn't people just tell them beforehand? Then they wouldn't have to be in such a situation. But nothing was never made easy for them.
"He threatened us," Amy said in a meek voice. She was never good at lying and keeping secrets. In high school, her friends didn't tell her anything private because she was such a gossip. She knew it was wrong to tell people's secrets, but information like this, where someone could die, shouldn't be held back. But Rick didn't think so.
"Don't say anything," her husband hissed.
"But they can help us!"
"He'll-"
"Mr Clearwater," Mac warned. "Unless you want to be charged as an accessory in this, I suggest you let her speak."
Rick quieted himself, and sat glowering at Mac while his wife went on in her hushed tone, "Last night...around 9:20...there was a commotion next door. We came out of our apartment to see if Danny needed help with something. But when we got there...there was a man in his doorway. He had a mask in his hand, which I assumed he'd taken off, not expecting anyone to come out into the hall. There was a...broken vase on the floor...and...and..." she covered her eyes and took deep breaths, "I'm sure you know what we found. We were going to call the police, but the man threatened to kill us, and the entire building if we said anything. He said he'd make a bomb, and set it off outside our door."
Stella took out a photo. "Was this the man the threatened you?"
Amy took the picture, and sniffled. They watched her eyes roam over the face, and she nodded. "That's him. That's the man that did it. What's his name?"
"Jim Lamburg. We thank you for the information. It's a great help."
Stella took the picture back, and the three of them turned to leave. Amy followed them to the door. "You'll find him won't you? I hate to think that something horrible happened, because we were afraid to call you. Danny was always nice to us. We'd invite him to dinner a couple times a month. There was always a 'good morning' or 'good afternoon', 'hey, how are you?'. He didn't deserve this."
"We'll find him. And we'll make sure you and everyone else in the building remains unharmed."
As they stood outside the doorway, the three CSI looked at each other. "That's enough for a warrant to search his apartment," Aiden said.
Stella and Mac nodded in agreement.
It had taken Danny several minutes to stand up, let alone stay upright, but he had managed it. Now all he had to do was find an exit. Which he knew wasn't going to be so simple. Unfortunately, he couldn't find anything to use as a crutch, so he had only three other choices. He could either skip on one foot and risk falling over, or he could walk and put as little weight on his ankle as possible. But he wasn't about to try either of those, so he chose the third option. To follow the wall. Sure, it would take a long time, but it would be safer.
Bracing his hands in front of his body and on the wall, he leant on it and slowly moved forward. It wasn't too difficult as his injured foot was closest to the wall, making it easier to balance. He kept his eyes as focused as they would go and became very wary of open doorways and staircases. After all, Vanessa had been found on the third story.
Which lead to his next problem: getting down stairs. If Jim were doing this like his sister's murder, there would be two flights for Danny to go down. How, he didn't know. But he'd figure it out when he came to it. Or maybe the CSIs would have found where he was by then, and he wouldn't have to figure out how to get down the stairs. That was the most appealing solution, but he wasn't about to get his hopes too far up. At any rate, he wished he found a staircase (or maybe there was a ramp in this place, he really couldn't recall) soon, so he could get of the creepy old building no matter how long it took. He laughed at the thought of Aiden hearing him say that. Creepy. It was like her 'yucky'.
On the topic of Aiden, he wondered what she was thinking at that moment. Probably she should have listened to him. It really wasn't fair for Danny to be thinking like that, though. She had listened, just hadn't believed it was this serious. He could practically hear Stella chastising him, saying, 'You should have waited those couple of minutes. Then you could have told me and you would never be in this mess.' Or perhaps it would be more like, 'I should have let you tell me, I'm sorry. You said it would have only taken a moment, and the evidence would have still been there when I went back to it.' No, no, not that either...probably somewhere in between. Now, Mac, he'd be wondering why Danny hadn't come back later, or waited for the call to be over. Well, he'd find out exactly what they'd say eventually.
Danny inwardly cheered as the hand furthest away from him didn't hit anymore wall, telling him he could go that way. Looking down the hallway, he was glad to find windows were lining it, making it much more easy to see. He pulled himself through the doorway, and once again began following the wall. He couldn't help but smile to himself. What was Jim thinking, leaving Danny alone? Didn't it ever cross his mind he'd escape? And thinking of Jim...where was he?
No time for that now. He really didn't care where Jim was at the moment, as long as he wasn't there. Until Jim came back (and Danny hoped he'd managed to get out by that time), he was safe. Not that he was afraid of another beating. That wasn't it. He was able to handle them when he was ten, then he was definitely able to handle them now. No, if Jim came back, he wouldn't get the chance to escape again. He'd be taken back to the dark room, where he would most likely be murdered, like Vanessa. A tremor went up his spine as that thought that he'd forbidden himself to think entered his conscious mind. Imagining such things is what caused people to give up.
Forcing his mind to the task on hand, Danny moved down the corridor. As he proceeded, he noticed at the end of the hall, it plunged into total darkness. He focused on that point, figuring it led to another area of the building, or stairwell, which lightened his spirits a degree. When he was nearly three feet from it, his hands felt nothing but air beside him. Not prepared for the sudden loss of wall, he grabbed the side of what he now realized to be the entrance to a room he assumed was located beside the dark one. He let go of the side of the doorway he was gripping with one hand and stretched it across until he felt the continuation of the wall. When he did, he firmly clasped it while his other hand shot out so he was clutching both sides of it. Once he had a good hold, he pulled himself across the break in the barrier between the hall and room, hopping on his uninjured ankle as he went along.
From what little light that leaked into the darkness ahead, Danny could indeed tell it was stairs, much to his delight. By now he was grinning like the Cheshire Cat, and confidence radiated from his body. He was almost out. He could make it. The only thing left to do was get down the two flights of stairs before him to the first floor, and leave. Then he could get help. Now, to decide how he was going to descend them. He could just hop down them. That was really the only thing he could think of, but it would be dangerous. Of course, staying in this building would be dangerous, as well. Ergo, he believed the best solution would be to try. All he had to do was pause on each step to keep his balance. But like most things, it was going to be easier said than done.
Breathing deeply, he braced himself for the first jump when he heard footsteps echoing on the stairs. Since it was only one pair of feet, teenagers or whoever else would come into the creepy building could be excluded as none of them were crazy enough to go in by themselves, meaning it could only be one person. His eyes widened and he began to back up into the room on his right. 'No, no, no!' his mind screamed. 'Not now! He can't be back now! I was so close! So close...'
Danny pressed himself against the inside wall of the room, trying to blend in with the shadows and praying he wouldn't seen. All the hopes of escape he had been harbouring were slowly disappearing with every footstep.