hwrnmnbsol (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hwrnmnbsol) wrote2011-11-15 10:58 pm
hwrnmnbsol) wrote2011-11-15 10:58 pm
Entry tags:
CSI: Chattanooga (3)
Holter, Hosiah and Dexter sat in the young woman's living room and drank coffee from borrowed mugs. Their hostess looked pale and drawn, but she wasn't crying. She answered their questions readily enough.
"So you and the deceased were married?" asked Holter.
"No, but we were engaged to be," said the woman.
Hosiah frowned. "But…. You lived together."
"Yes," said the fiancée.
Hosiah and Dexter exchanged glances. Holter arched an eyebrow. "Can you tell us about your Arabic fiance's confrontation two nights ago?" he asked.
The woman smoothed her skirt over her knees. "Well, his family has a tradition of eating pizza together at the end of the week," she said. "We were all at Stromboli's, sitting outside, when this big skinhead guy came up and started picking a fight."
Dexter was confused. "So… you were part of the family?" he asked. "Because, you know, you lived together."
"Almost," said the woman sadly. "Anyway, that crazy guy got mad over nothing. He was out of his mind! Fortunately the restaurant manager threw him out, but not before he threatened to come back and 'finish the job'."
"Is it possible," Hosiah asked, "that you were actually common-law married?"
"I don't know," said the victim's girlfriend, now thoroughly confused.
"Had you ever seen this person before that night?" asked Holter.
"No, never," the woman said firmly. "I'd remember that face."
"And did your fiancée know him?"
"I'm certain he didn't," said the girl.
"Are you positive?" Holter peered penetratingly at the woman. "You know, sometimes they lie."
It was her turn to frown. "'They'?"
Holter shrugged. He pulled out a metal case and opened it on the coffee table. He removed two metal cylinders with leads snaking out of them, and he handed them to the woman. "Hold these firmly in both hands," Holter said, "and answer the next series of questions as truthfully as possible."
"What is this, some kind of lie detector test?" asked the woman.
"No, no," scoffed Holter. "You know, lie detector tests are terribly inaccurate."
"This is a Dianetics test kit," Dexter explained. "We're going to audit your engrams."
"But," said Hosiah, almost to herself, "you *lived* *together*."
"Hush," Holter ordered, and began.
"So the shooter did return to 'finish the job'," said Dexter. The team had spent an unproductive afternoon at the fiancee's house and hadn't turned up much of use. The window of time to solve the crime was closing inexorably.
"Or so somebody would have us believe," said Holter drily. They had taped off the outdoor seating area at Stromboli's and were methodically searching the ground.
"But he definitely was on the premises, and we saw him on the tapes shooting the victim," said Hosiah.
"We all know video can be faked, judging from the Apollo sound-stages," Holter said. "But sure, I'm willing to stipulate that the man who was arrested was the man who pulled the trigger."
"Then he's guilty of murder after all," said Dexter.
"Maybe," said Holter. "Hello, what's this?"
Using pincers, Holter picked up something plastic and brightly colored that had been lying concealed under a table. It was a delicate box, hinged with a clamshell catch. Holter put it down on a plastic baggie and teased open the lid. It was an empty pack of birth control pills.
"Unless I miss my guess," Holter said, "this belonged to the deceased Arabic man's non-Arabic girlfriend."
"The twenty-eight day cycle!" breathed Hosiah.
"Yes," mused Holter, "but this pack's used up. I wonder if she's started another one."
"Chief," said Dexter warningly, "you'd better have a look over here."
Holter and Hosiah came over to see what Dexter had found. Peeking out from under a trashcan was a milky white crystal the size of a cigarette. Dexter reached out to prod it with the tip of his pen.
"Careful," Hosiah advised. "It could be charged with dangerous levels of orgone."
Dexter carefully poked the clue out into the open. It looked like an ordinary piece of quartz such as might be found in a common rock garden. Holter's eyes glowed.
"The pieces," he announced, "are beginning to fall into place. Unnatural deflections of bullet trajectories. A dead witch. A Christian man accused of murder. Suddenly these strange things all begin to make sense." Holter put the crystal inside an evidence envelope and tucked it into his jacket pocket. "Come on," he urged. "Let's put this crime to bed."
"Where are we going?" Hosiah asked.
"Back to the scene of the crime," Holter said grimly.
**
A half-dozen uniformed officers were already at the dry cleaner's when the CSI team arrived. The police chief was there too, waiting on the sidewalk as Holter walked up. He didn't look pleased.
"I hope you've got a good explanation for this, Holter," the chief said dangerously. "Not only did you have the accused murderer released, but now I understand you've called for the arrest of the deceased man's father? As soon as the papers get hold of this…"
"Relax, sir," said Holter. "I think once everything has been explained, you'll be satisfied that CSI has once again used science to further the cause of justice."
Inside the shop, the angry proprietor was being held, handcuffed, by two police officers. "After all the tragedy my family has had to deal with!" the man complained. "And now this! It's too much!"
"Too much?" Holter smiled to himself. "You know what's too much? Killing your own son to prevent him from diluting your soul energy."
This was enough to stun everybody present. "What?" said the police chief faintly.
"A common practice of Arabic warlocks, chief," Holter said crisply. "Our drycleaner here transferred his soul to his son, effectively rendering himself immortal. But then he discovered, through finding the deceased Arabic man's girlfriend's birth control pills, that his son was having sex. Out of wedlock."
The chief gaped in horror. "Yes, sir; I completely agree – shocking behavior all the way around. But even more shocking was what this wretched man here decided to do next – rather than run the risk that his son might have a son of his own, thereby diluting the transferred life-force, he manipulated another man to kill his son for him!"
"And how, pray tell, did he do that?" asked the police chief, folding his arms.
"N Rays, sir," said Holter faithfully. "Powerful energy fields put out by all living matter, and directable through crystals. N Rays are capable of generating force energy potent enough to deflect a bullet – or curve its path to ensure it doesn't miss. We can verify the presence of a substantial N Ray field around the suspect by means of a little Kirlian photography right this instant." Dexter took the picture, and the flash momentarily blinded everybody.
"But the other important use of N Rays," continued Holter, snooping behind the counter of the establishment, "was the powering of a unique apparatus… AHA!" He reached down and pulled out a strange machine, all cylinders and coiling tubes.
The police chief blinked. "What is that thing?" he asked.
"It's a cappuccino maker!" protested the drycleaner.
"That, sir," said Holter triumphantly, "is an Ousiograph. It is capable of recording, and also transmitting, messages sent directly to an individual's brain. Originally invented by convicted murderer Steven Green to clear his name…"
"Yes, I know!" shouted the chief. "Green killed a cop, and was also diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic!"
"Very true," admitted Holter, "but that doesn't mean he *wasn't* receiving messages. In this case, an Ousiograph is capable of implanting any sort of thought or directive in a mind – including the sudden urge to start a fight – or, worse yet, to commit murder."
He glared at the drycleaner, who gaped.
"But… it's a cappuccino maker!" he repeated. "For making cappuccino!"
"Don't worry, sir," said Holter, picking up the apparatus. "We'll get this back to the lab. A full log of the messages it's sent and received should be captured inside its reactive coil. When we pull that off for you, you'll have more than enough evidence to burn this creep at the stake."
The CSI squad filed out of the drycleaning establishment, leaving behind a police chief too stunned to stop them.
"Just amazing how you pulled it all together, Holter," said Hosiah respectfully.
"Absolutely," agreed Dexter. "If it weren't for you, an innocent man might even now be in jail."
"Well, it wasn't me who did anything, people," Holter replied modestly. "It was Science, the collected knowledge and wisdom of the ages, that spoke through all of us. Science is a mighty tool in God's toolbox, friends, and we who wield it are only more tools in his service."
Holter looked up at the moon. "All of us are tools," he said fervently.
[CUE MUSIC: THE WHO, "Eminence Front"}
fin
"So you and the deceased were married?" asked Holter.
"No, but we were engaged to be," said the woman.
Hosiah frowned. "But…. You lived together."
"Yes," said the fiancée.
Hosiah and Dexter exchanged glances. Holter arched an eyebrow. "Can you tell us about your Arabic fiance's confrontation two nights ago?" he asked.
The woman smoothed her skirt over her knees. "Well, his family has a tradition of eating pizza together at the end of the week," she said. "We were all at Stromboli's, sitting outside, when this big skinhead guy came up and started picking a fight."
Dexter was confused. "So… you were part of the family?" he asked. "Because, you know, you lived together."
"Almost," said the woman sadly. "Anyway, that crazy guy got mad over nothing. He was out of his mind! Fortunately the restaurant manager threw him out, but not before he threatened to come back and 'finish the job'."
"Is it possible," Hosiah asked, "that you were actually common-law married?"
"I don't know," said the victim's girlfriend, now thoroughly confused.
"Had you ever seen this person before that night?" asked Holter.
"No, never," the woman said firmly. "I'd remember that face."
"And did your fiancée know him?"
"I'm certain he didn't," said the girl.
"Are you positive?" Holter peered penetratingly at the woman. "You know, sometimes they lie."
It was her turn to frown. "'They'?"
Holter shrugged. He pulled out a metal case and opened it on the coffee table. He removed two metal cylinders with leads snaking out of them, and he handed them to the woman. "Hold these firmly in both hands," Holter said, "and answer the next series of questions as truthfully as possible."
"What is this, some kind of lie detector test?" asked the woman.
"No, no," scoffed Holter. "You know, lie detector tests are terribly inaccurate."
"This is a Dianetics test kit," Dexter explained. "We're going to audit your engrams."
"But," said Hosiah, almost to herself, "you *lived* *together*."
"Hush," Holter ordered, and began.
"So the shooter did return to 'finish the job'," said Dexter. The team had spent an unproductive afternoon at the fiancee's house and hadn't turned up much of use. The window of time to solve the crime was closing inexorably.
"Or so somebody would have us believe," said Holter drily. They had taped off the outdoor seating area at Stromboli's and were methodically searching the ground.
"But he definitely was on the premises, and we saw him on the tapes shooting the victim," said Hosiah.
"We all know video can be faked, judging from the Apollo sound-stages," Holter said. "But sure, I'm willing to stipulate that the man who was arrested was the man who pulled the trigger."
"Then he's guilty of murder after all," said Dexter.
"Maybe," said Holter. "Hello, what's this?"
Using pincers, Holter picked up something plastic and brightly colored that had been lying concealed under a table. It was a delicate box, hinged with a clamshell catch. Holter put it down on a plastic baggie and teased open the lid. It was an empty pack of birth control pills.
"Unless I miss my guess," Holter said, "this belonged to the deceased Arabic man's non-Arabic girlfriend."
"The twenty-eight day cycle!" breathed Hosiah.
"Yes," mused Holter, "but this pack's used up. I wonder if she's started another one."
"Chief," said Dexter warningly, "you'd better have a look over here."
Holter and Hosiah came over to see what Dexter had found. Peeking out from under a trashcan was a milky white crystal the size of a cigarette. Dexter reached out to prod it with the tip of his pen.
"Careful," Hosiah advised. "It could be charged with dangerous levels of orgone."
Dexter carefully poked the clue out into the open. It looked like an ordinary piece of quartz such as might be found in a common rock garden. Holter's eyes glowed.
"The pieces," he announced, "are beginning to fall into place. Unnatural deflections of bullet trajectories. A dead witch. A Christian man accused of murder. Suddenly these strange things all begin to make sense." Holter put the crystal inside an evidence envelope and tucked it into his jacket pocket. "Come on," he urged. "Let's put this crime to bed."
"Where are we going?" Hosiah asked.
"Back to the scene of the crime," Holter said grimly.
**
A half-dozen uniformed officers were already at the dry cleaner's when the CSI team arrived. The police chief was there too, waiting on the sidewalk as Holter walked up. He didn't look pleased.
"I hope you've got a good explanation for this, Holter," the chief said dangerously. "Not only did you have the accused murderer released, but now I understand you've called for the arrest of the deceased man's father? As soon as the papers get hold of this…"
"Relax, sir," said Holter. "I think once everything has been explained, you'll be satisfied that CSI has once again used science to further the cause of justice."
Inside the shop, the angry proprietor was being held, handcuffed, by two police officers. "After all the tragedy my family has had to deal with!" the man complained. "And now this! It's too much!"
"Too much?" Holter smiled to himself. "You know what's too much? Killing your own son to prevent him from diluting your soul energy."
This was enough to stun everybody present. "What?" said the police chief faintly.
"A common practice of Arabic warlocks, chief," Holter said crisply. "Our drycleaner here transferred his soul to his son, effectively rendering himself immortal. But then he discovered, through finding the deceased Arabic man's girlfriend's birth control pills, that his son was having sex. Out of wedlock."
The chief gaped in horror. "Yes, sir; I completely agree – shocking behavior all the way around. But even more shocking was what this wretched man here decided to do next – rather than run the risk that his son might have a son of his own, thereby diluting the transferred life-force, he manipulated another man to kill his son for him!"
"And how, pray tell, did he do that?" asked the police chief, folding his arms.
"N Rays, sir," said Holter faithfully. "Powerful energy fields put out by all living matter, and directable through crystals. N Rays are capable of generating force energy potent enough to deflect a bullet – or curve its path to ensure it doesn't miss. We can verify the presence of a substantial N Ray field around the suspect by means of a little Kirlian photography right this instant." Dexter took the picture, and the flash momentarily blinded everybody.
"But the other important use of N Rays," continued Holter, snooping behind the counter of the establishment, "was the powering of a unique apparatus… AHA!" He reached down and pulled out a strange machine, all cylinders and coiling tubes.
The police chief blinked. "What is that thing?" he asked.
"It's a cappuccino maker!" protested the drycleaner.
"That, sir," said Holter triumphantly, "is an Ousiograph. It is capable of recording, and also transmitting, messages sent directly to an individual's brain. Originally invented by convicted murderer Steven Green to clear his name…"
"Yes, I know!" shouted the chief. "Green killed a cop, and was also diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic!"
"Very true," admitted Holter, "but that doesn't mean he *wasn't* receiving messages. In this case, an Ousiograph is capable of implanting any sort of thought or directive in a mind – including the sudden urge to start a fight – or, worse yet, to commit murder."
He glared at the drycleaner, who gaped.
"But… it's a cappuccino maker!" he repeated. "For making cappuccino!"
"Don't worry, sir," said Holter, picking up the apparatus. "We'll get this back to the lab. A full log of the messages it's sent and received should be captured inside its reactive coil. When we pull that off for you, you'll have more than enough evidence to burn this creep at the stake."
The CSI squad filed out of the drycleaning establishment, leaving behind a police chief too stunned to stop them.
"Just amazing how you pulled it all together, Holter," said Hosiah respectfully.
"Absolutely," agreed Dexter. "If it weren't for you, an innocent man might even now be in jail."
"Well, it wasn't me who did anything, people," Holter replied modestly. "It was Science, the collected knowledge and wisdom of the ages, that spoke through all of us. Science is a mighty tool in God's toolbox, friends, and we who wield it are only more tools in his service."
Holter looked up at the moon. "All of us are tools," he said fervently.
[CUE MUSIC: THE WHO, "Eminence Front"}
fin