Back to the case
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Summary: Faith doesn’t join the Mayor.
AN: Thoughts are between slashes (//Thought.//)
AN: Unheard part of conversation (“**********”)
Nessa Holt hated to be going out of town at this time but had been planning this vacation for three months and the money she’d already spent was non-refundable. That’s why she was at the airport instead of being involved with whatever Ed was dealing with. She knew it was big because it didn’t just include security personnel. It looked like every employee of the casino and hotel would get pulled in.
She wouldn’t have even known that anything was going on if she hadn’t had to stop by the casino to retrieve a pair of earrings that she’d accidentally left in her employee locker. However, she hadn’t been able to stick around long enough to get any particulars as she had to hurry on to the airport to be able to make her flight.
That’s why she was sitting at the gate waiting for the just arrived plane to disgorge its passengers so that those waiting with her could board it. To while away the time, she was reading a mystery novel and it was just getting to an interesting part when she heard a strangely familiar voice from amongst the debarking passengers streaming by.
While the fact that the voice had an English accent would be enough for the ex-pat to find it familiar, the real reason it was familiar was that she’d heard it before. Back when she still lived with her father. It was the voice of the man who broke into their house and beat her father up for trying to scam some rich bloke belonging to some Gentlemen’s Club of some sort. After the beating, the man had warned her father to stay away from The Council or next time it wouldn’t be just him to pay the consequences.
Nessa did her best to pretend she was still reading the book and not draw attention to herself. She was fairly certain that even if the guy looked in her direction he wouldn’t recognize her as she’d grown some since then and was definitely dressed and styled her hair differently. However, she didn’t want to take any chances. Even if his just getting off a plane might suggest he wasn’t armed, she was aware just how dangerous the man could be with any object he might get his hands on.
Luckily, despite his roving scan of the area, it appeared he and his companions, it looked to her like he was with two other men by the way they were grouped together, were too engrossed in getting to baggage claim to pay too much attention to the other passengers milling around them.
Once she was sure they were out of sight, Nessa calmly got up and moved over to a nearby pay phone and quickly dialed.
When the phone was picked up on the other end, she said, “Ed. It’s Nessa. I’m at the airport and just saw Weatherby get off a plane with two other men.”
“No, I don’t think he saw me and even if he did, I’ve changed so much that he would have just glanced over me. From the way he and his friends were acting though, I don’t believe this is strictly a pleasure trip for them.”
Nessa took the receiver from her ear and looked askance at the phone before putting it back to her ear.
“Ok, Ed. I promise to get on my flight and enjoy my vacation,” she said slightly aggrieved at her pseudo-father for his over protective nature. “I’ll let you handle things while I’m sunning myself on the beaches of Oahu. As to the flight number they came in on, it was Delta 123. Goodbye.”
She hung up the phone and returned to her seat to await the announcement to board the plane that would take her on the first leg of her journey to Hawaii.
She had known she couldn’t stay and help Ed deal with whatever Weatherby and company were in Vegas for, he was definitely out of her league, but for him to have nearly shouted his insistence that she continue on with her vacation had her thinking that Ed already knew and he wanted to make sure she was out of the firing line. She just hoped he would explain once she got back. Even if it was only that Weatherby had had a painful ‘accident’.
Meanwhile, Ed Deline was on the phone to Sam Braun to advise him that at least one Council team was in town. Sam would get in touch with Dan Tanna with the news.
After his call to Sam, Ed phoned a contact he had at the airport to request a passenger list for the flight Nessa had given him. He doubted the three men were using their real names but hoped they would continue to use whatever names they traveled on when they checked into a hotel or motel in town. Given that it was The Council, he was positive it wouldn’t be at anyone of the ones on The Strip, or even close by.
Next on his to-do list was to get a picture of Weatherby, hopefully a current one, from some of his old contacts and check the cabbies who worked the airport for who picked him and his friends up and where they took them. He would also provide the photo to security though he doubted they would be stopping by any of the bigger casinos soon. They’d probably start with the lower scale places first believing their prey would hide there. A reasonable assumption given the supposed lack of resources available to the Slayers.
Brass was looking through the one-way glass into the interrogation room with its lone occupant when Grissom came in.
“What have you got?” asked Brass.
“Two white shirts and a tie were found in his trash,” replied Gil. “They’d been bleached before being thrown away. Blood trace was found on the tie and one of the shirts but due to the bleach we can’t match it to anyone. The shirt with the blood trace matches the style of the shirt worn before the murder and the one without matches the one worn afterwards as well as being a match to the shirts in Mr. Takei’s suitcase. No recoverable DNA from any of the clothing to tie them to him other than they were in his trash.”
“Flimsy connection at best,” sighed Jim.
Just then a lab tech stepped into the room, haded a file folder to Gill and said, “Mr. Grissom, I was just told about the suspect who was brought in about the hotel murder and his name reminded me of a print I found on the zipper tab of Mr. Sato’s suitcase. It was his, but since it was an elimination print, I didn’t pay much attention to it.”
“Mr. Sato’s bag?” asked Gil. “Not Mr. Takei’s?”
“Yes. The print was from Mr. Sato’s bag. Mr. Takei’s bag had no finger prints on it at all. Not even smudges.”
Both Grissom and Brass raised eyebrows at that statement.
“Another thing, sir,” continued the tech. “Ilene would like you to stop by to get your opinion on something she found while examining the carpet squares. Something about dried blood on some squares from the hall that got partially liquefied again when stepped on, but that it was still the victim’s blood.”
“Check it out,” said Brass. “I’d like to have a bit more to go on than mismatched shirts with an unidentifiable blood trace on them and a finger print that isn’t where it’s supposed to be.”
Gil nodded, and he and the tech left.
Brass returned to studying the suspect and thanked God that Gerard was out dealing with the more bizarre aspects of this case as he was sure they had at least zeroed in on the murderer of one Kennedy Limon.
When police were admitted to the room across the hall from 314, they found evidence that it had been inhabited even though hotel records indicated it was out of commission for renovation and shouldn’t have been let to anyone. Finger prints, blood stains and other bodily fluids quickly confirmed that both the victim and the suspect had spent time together in the room. It also appeared that the victim had been restrained there as well through the use of drugs.
Of course the piece de resistance, was finding the click pen that had a broken part that matched the bit found in the victim’s neck wound. And it had only the suspect’s finger prints on it as well.
AN: Before you ask, yes, that Kennedy.