Chapter Text
Disclaimer: I don't own Las Vegas, the concept of the SCI-TV-series or any
of the characters or actors. I don't make money from this and I don't have
any, so don't sue me.
a homicide, a secret life and a friend.... What happens when Warrick finds that he knows the victim? Will the revelations help to solve the case or only mess up Warrick's life?
"Gris, Cath. Over there." Lt. Jackson waved the CSIs to the actual scene.
While Gil exchanged a few words with the officer, Cath simply nodded. The
scene was eerie, like most of them: halogen lamps lighting up the night with
their harsh white beams, blinding. Audience kept in check by thin yellow
tape and somewhere the victim. There must be some silent agreement, Cath
thought, because all the time people kept a small are free, they all tried
to stay away from the victim of a homicide. Not so much out of respect, but
as if the curse of death would jump onto them if they got too close.
"Who found him?" Gil asked.
"Bunch'a teens. Over there." Two pairs of eyes swept into the indicated
direction, taking in the stances of the youngsters standing there.
"No need to keep them here. Note their addresses, we might have some
questions for them later." Gil said while he put on his latex gloves and
stepped forward to reach that empty circle of which the corpse was the
center.
Blond hair streaked with blood, a torn shirt, now dirty, wet with blood, the
legs in a pair of low-crotch jeans twisted unnaturally. The victim laid
face-down.
After all photos were taken, they started to examine the coprse itself.
"Oh my! That's a kid!" Cath exclaimed. The boy's face, although twisted with
fear and pain, still it had an angelic, innocent expression.
Gil observed the various bruises and ruptures, then stared motionless at the
surrounding ground.
"He was stoned to death, I think." the supervisor picked up a large stone
with some blood on it and put it into one of his many evidence-bags.
"No ID with him. Do we have a name already?" Cath asked no-one specific.
"Naw. We'll check the missing cases." answered on of the cops.
"This is a frontier, right?" Gil asked the officer.
"Yep. Latinos and blacks clash here pretty often." came the answer.
"So. They harass a student, throw stones and sticks at him, chase him down
the shoulder. Eventually one hits a critical area on the head or the boy
falls, cracks his head and dies. Plausible?" Gil cocked one eyebrow as he
looked at Catherine.
"Not impossible.
Still on their way back to the lab, Gil was called: they had the probable
name of the boy: Marcus Wilmington. They would get to his foster-parents as
soon as the photos were processed.