InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "With... A herring!"

Sherlock Holmes (ifimnothungry) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2012-04-24 23:55:00

Entry tags:

gil grissom, sherlock holmes

WHO: Sherlock Holmes & Gil Grissom
WHAT: Sherlock Holmes witnesses a crime. Gil Grissom is on duty. Colligo criminals have the worst luck.
WHEN: April 24th; Late Evening
WHERE: Colligo Streets
RATING: PG
STATUS: In Progress

Sherlock had been leaving the flat every night since John had been sent back home. The first few evenings he had spent with Irene, thankful for the comforting presence that she offered and her willingness to let him reassuring himself that she wouldn't be taken away in the middle of the night by sharing the bed with her, and after that, it had just been a necessity to stay out of an empty flat and distract himself with something other than the substances that he'd sworn off in order to not disappoint those that he knew who remained here again. This evening, Sherlock had headed down to the shopping district, wandering through the shops and pubs that stayed open until the wee hours of the morning trying to find something which would catch his interest long enough to keep him entertained until he was exhausted and could head home and sleep without noticing how empty and quiet the flat seemed now. But after stepping out of the three pub of the evening and getting hit in the face by a puff of smoke from one of the nearby smokers, Sherlock was starting to feel his skin itch and his brain buzz, the distractions not keeping his brain nearly as occupied as it needed to be.

Pausing a moment, gaze shifting briefly to the small group of locals gathered on the curb puffing away at their cigarettes, Sherlock's willpower crumbled briefly. One cigarette wasn't going to kill him, and it was certainly better than turning to another harder.

Stepping over to the crowd, Sherlock questioned quickly whether he could bum one of their cigarettes, taking the one offered to him thankfully along with the light from another of the group and took a deep drag off of it, exhaling in deep satisfaction as he turned his gaze out towards the road, scanning the rest of the gathered crowd before his eyes locked on a pair of guys outside one of the cinemas, the tension and anger in their body language, their threatening postures, and the second before one of them turned, hand heading towards his pocket, Sherlock was moving to grab the shoulders of the people gathered around them to try and pull them back off the street.

Several shots rang out a moment later, echoed by the screams of people on the street as the area emptied as people scattered, leaving the body of one man laying splayed out on the ground as the other with the gun, drenched in the backsplash of the bloody of the man he'd just gunned down, turned on his heel and fled.

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gruesomegrissom
2012-04-25 07:07 am UTC (link)

Despite everything that was being offered in regards to the crime at hand, all Grissom could think while he was being shown the direction the gunman had gone was that whoever this was really needed to let go of his shoulders now before he was arrested for assaulting a crime scene investigator. Fortunately, enough eye-witness testimony had been given - some of it even being supported by forensics, albeit things performed in the field and not corroborated by science as of yet - that Grissom was willing to overlook the incident with only a slightly hardened look and a simply spoken warning of, "You shouldn't touch a member of law enforcement without permission. You're liable to get arrested."

Then he glanced in the direction the man had indicated, brow furrowing ever so slightly as he tried to imagine the gunman fleeing, on foot, rather than via car as the forensic evidence suggested thus far. Unable to help himself, he looked to the witness.

"Blood spatter shows someone leaving via a vehicle," he stated, tipping his head in the general direction of where the car would be. "If that wasn't the gunman, then who was it?"

Part of his question was asked due to curiosity, he would freely admit. No speculation given on part of the witness would be admissible in court. However Grissom couldn't resist learning about what else the man might have witnessed. So far - even if he hadn't acknowledged as much - the man had proven to be far more thorough than most crime scene investigators could ever hope to be throughout the bulk of their career.

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ifimnothungry
2012-04-25 07:23 am UTC (link)

"It wouldn't be the first time nor likely the last," Sherlock drawled in response to the statement about him getting arrested. Usually, law enforcement was willing to overlook his oversights when it came to manhandling them, especially if it was to make them see a vital piece of information that they had missed. Especially since the man seemed to be assuming that the gunman had left by vehicle. Shaking his head with a hint of frustration, Sherlock looked back up at the man in front of him, taking at least a bit of heart in the fact that the question was asked in what seemed like a sincere curiosity rather than pointing out an apparent mistake he had made.

"The area was crowded when the crime happened," Sherlock said. "The cinema had just let out, at least four of the theatres. I didn't see who, specifically, climbed into the car, but there were several individuals caught up in the area of the blood spatter," Sherlock said, turning and pointing to the various voids. "Any one of them could have tracked the blood to the car. Most people aren't very keen to stick around when they've just had someone get shock a few feet from where they were standing and ended up covered in their blood."

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gruesomegrissom
2012-04-25 07:48 pm UTC (link)

Grissom tipped his head slightly to the side as he turned to look at the crime scene once again, listening as the witness spoke. There were four voids in the blood and only two witnesses wearing splatter who had stayed put until the police had arrived. Going with that fact, the witness' rendition of the crime was feasible. However, that didn't explain why a witness - one who had been standing quite close to the victim at the time of the shooting - would flee so quickly.

Unless there was more to the scene than either Grissom or the man standing beside him realized.

"You said the victim was the one who started the fight, a fight that ended with his being shot and someone standing very close to him being covered in a fair amount of his blood." Grissom looked up from the victim, seeing the unknown person, in his mind's eye, fleeing to a vehicle that then sped away into the night. Thousands upon thousands of 'what if' scenarios flickered through his head but there simply wasn't any forensic proof, as of yet, to support any of them. However, something else the witness had said stuck out even more than everything he'd just gone over.

"There is a fine line between innocent bystander and accomplice. One is in the wrong place, at the wrong time, through no fault of his own. The other is in the wrong place, at the wrong time, through his own design," he murmured to himself, gaze darting to the blood splatter yet again. And with nothing more than that, not a look at anyone around him or nary a word, he turned on his heel and began to walk away from the crime scene in the direction that Sherlock had indicated the shooter had fled.

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ifimnothungry
2012-04-25 09:09 pm UTC (link)

There were two sorts of crimes that Sherlock was used to dealing with. Crimes of passion that twisted around themselves and other issues until they seemed to be based upon something else entirely, and elaborately orchestrated criminal acts which needed a complex mind to be able to unravel the intricate ins and outs that the regular detective mind could not see. While Sherlock had assumed that this was little more than a crime of passion, a simple and straightforward one without even the simplest of complications, the implications of there being an accomplice involved left him quietly intrigued. From across the street, Sherlock knew that even his near flawless observation skills were bound to miss something, and his attention had been directed towards the perpetrator, not the shattering crowd.

Following Grissom, not really considering the fact that he was not on this crime scene in any official capacity as he did, Sherlock's gaze darted back and forth as he inspected the areas of the alleyway, "If there was an accomplice, my estimation of his radius of retreat might be off," Sherlock said, frowning to himself as he glanced back over his shoulder towards where the car had been. "There are places in each of those paths that he could have easily been picked up by someone." At least there would have been obvious blood transfer into the car when they did find whoever it was who was involved if this was the case.

Unless... Spotting a larger transfer of blood near one of the walls in the alley, just to the right of a large dumpster, Sherlock stepped past Grissom and towards the dumpster, pulling himself up onto the edge of it as he yanked the lid backwards and staring at a large black bag sitting on top of everything else inside the dumpster. "Seems there may just be more to this than meets the eye," Sherlock said, stepping back and gesturing for Grissom to take over. After all, he'd only containment the evidence if he touched it.

No gloves.

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gruesomegrissom
2012-04-26 12:02 am UTC (link)

Grissom wasn't used to being followed. Normally, when he wandered off to follow a hunch, he was left alone to sort through it all while the others on the scene continued to do their own tasks. Of course, the man who had stepped forward as a witness didn't really have a task, so it wasn't all that surprising he'd simply hung around the scene to watch others work. What was surprising, though, was that he not only tagged along but seemed to feel well within his right to actively join in the investigation.

Frowning slightly, Grissom watched as the bag was discovered. The warning not to touch anything died in his throat when the witness took a step back and motioned him over. Stepping forward, he peered down at the bag for a moment, looked back to the witness standing there, then silently pulled a pair of gloves from inside his jacket pocket.

"If you're going to insist on tagging along, at least put these on," he said simply. "Less chance of contaminating the evidence, that way." Then he turned back to the bag, pulling it from the dumpster and slowly opening it to peer inside. A few seconds past before he spoke again, his tone even and attention still on the contents of the bag as he finally murmured, "Oh what a tangled web we weave..."

Reaching into the bag, he pulled out a dress with blood splatter covering part of it then pulled out a man's shirt with his other hand, peering up at the other man on the scene while doing so. "As they say in Las Vegas. Jackpot." Setting the items back into the bag, he reached for his walkie talkie to radio for someone to join them on the scene, all the while peering up at the other man present with a speculative gleam in his eyes.

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ifimnothungry
2012-04-26 12:23 am UTC (link)

Taking the offered gloves without a second of hesitation, Sherlock pulled them on with the ease and skill of someone who was well used to wearing them as he moved over and hovered just close enough to be able to see what was being pulled out of the bag. Not that Sherlock had had any doubts about it being their ditched clothes. There was nothing else that would have made sense. Pausing for a moment to turn his attention back to the dumpster, Sherlock stepped forward and heaved himself back up onto it and jumped in without so much as a hint of hesitation, picking through the layers that had been settled just under the bag before coming back up after a moment with a smug look on his face and a Beretta pistol hanging off his finger.

"Bonnie and Clyde these two are not," Sherlock said ask he cleared his throat and offered the pistol out to Grissom. Him touching it wouldn't be nearly as contaminating as him having any interaction with the clothing which could contained DNA and other evidence. Ballistics wouldn't be at all concerned with who dug the gun out of the dumpster at the end of the day if it actually came up a match.

Which, really, how could it possibly not?

"There's probably a good set of prints that you can get off that thing," Sherlock said, taking a deep breath. "And you might want to have someone check the security cameras for make and model of the car that they were driving."

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gruesomegrissom
2012-04-26 12:37 am UTC (link)

After receiving assurances over the walkie talkie that someone was on their way to collect the evidence, and taking the weapon from the other man with a nod of his head and every intention of doing precisely what was already being suggested, Grissom bagged the gun and set it down alongside the articles of clothing. There was something about the way the other man was handling himself that was making it more and more clear with each passing second that he was not a typical eye witness. Figuring he had some time to kill before the lab tech he'd called for arrived, he decided to sort it all out on the spot.

"So you're obviously well-versed in police protocol and know you're way around a crime scene," he commented idly. "I'm speculating you're likely some sort of consultant for the department, because if you were an officer you would have identified yourself by your badge number and if you were part of the lab I would have seen your file in the database."

Sitting back on his heels, not willing to get too far from the blood splattered clothing so as to avoid contamination before someone could arrive to see they were bagged with the proper equipment, he asked plainly, "Are you going to tell me your name at some point or should I contact Mac and ask him instead?"

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ifimnothungry
2012-04-26 01:13 am UTC (link)

"Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock said, deciding it was probably best for him to stay in the dumpster for the moment lest he accidentally end up mussing things up by climbing back out before they were bagged and taken away. "It really was just a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time this evening," Sherlock said as he folded his hands together. "Or, rather, the right place. It really just depends on how this works out," Sherlock said as the crime scene tech arrived to take away the evidence that they'd recovered, giving Sherlock a bit of a glance before shaking their head and turning back to the job at hand.

Most of them had been on the job often enough when Sherlock was working with Mac so they were more than used to him and his tendency to do odd things.

"But you are right. I'm a consultant. You'll be able to find my name on a handful of cases," Sherlock said with a smile and a shrug. "Just doing my part to help out." As if that was all there was to it. But Sherlock was more than willing to give him any information he wanted if it kept him from calling Mac. He was more than certain that if he did that, he'd be run right off the scene.

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gruesomegrissom
2012-04-26 03:51 pm UTC (link)

Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock Holmes. If Grissom hadn't already seen a fair number of things that were beyond belief and yet very obviously real in the city already, the name would have shocked him much more than it did. Fortunately for the case he was working, as well as his own mind, he'd come across many other things that he'd always thought were fictional and, as much of a fan as he was of the man standing before him, was able to simply put this encounter into that very same category.

He could not, however, turn off his mind's ability to take the realization that Sherlock Holmes was in the city to the next logical place. Which was that there had to be a reason no one had told him they had someone as unquestionably brilliant on their roster to contact for the more intriguing cases. And the only thing Grissom could think that would cause that particular lack of foresight would be if no one was expecting Sherlock to step forward on any case Grissom was working.

There could be two reasons for that, he rationalized. The first - and most obvious - was the fact that he and Sherlock hadn't exactly hit it off when they'd first met upon his arrival in the city. So it was possible the consultant had made some statement that indicated he wouldn't work with him. However Grissom doubted that was the case. For if this was the real Sherlock Holmes, the man wouldn't care so much about who he was working with as the work itself. Which left him with the second most logical reason.

Sherlock wasn't supposed to be working on the cases.

Although there could be a plethora of reasons that might be the situation, Grissom frankly didn't care. For all that it mattered to him, Sherlock could have shot a suspect in the face mid-interrogation then burnt down the station in an effort to cover his tracks. There was absolutely nothing that was going to make him turn the man away when he not only wanted to help but clearly was an asset to the scene. No, to Grissom, all that mattered was providing a voice for the victim lying dead on the street half a block or so away and that voice was liable to be much louder, and unable to be refuted, if Sherlock was helping to add some volume to it. And the only way that could happen was is Grissom could honestly say he didn't know the man wasn't supposed to be helping out.

So rather than confront him, Grissom simply said, "It's nice to meet you." Then he rose to his feet and began to walk further down the alley to continue following his hunch on where the shooter and his accomplice had fled. He'd made it a handful of steps or so before he paused and glanced back at Sherlock with an inquisitive tip of his head.

"Well?" he asked curiously, "are you coming or not?" He rolled his eyes a bit when the lab tech began to rise to his feet to follow. "Not you," he said flatly. "I was talking to the man in the dumpster, obviously."

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ifimnothungry
2012-04-26 06:38 pm UTC (link)

When Mac had said that they had more in common than Sherlock had been willing to admit, Sherlock hadn't seen it. Of course, he'd also been rather seriously irritated by being actively dismissed at the time, and, being the petty one that he was in those sorts of situations, had merely assumed the worst. But standing in the dumpster, watching the man in front of him as the clear and familiar signs of a problem being worked out flickered over his face only to have the ultimate revelation come yet be concealed at the same time. Obviously he'd figured out what Sherlock had been hoping to not have become an issue. It was impossible for Sherlock not to be able to recognize the same sort of cognitive processes that he witnesses flashing across his own features and his brother's when such a situation arose. And as Sherlock watched him turn and walk towards the gunman's path of retreat, he was waiting for him to be escorted off the scene, but the singular fact that he, instead, asked if he was coming while simultaneously dismissing an underling pretty much settled it.

Mac was right. They were a lot more alike than he had initially realized.

Leaping out of the dumpster and taking careful care not to shed the bits still stuck to his clothes on anything vital, Sherlock rubbed his gloves together over the dumpster to get rid of the garbage that had insisted on sticking before moving to follow Grissom, "There are a limited number of areas back here where they could have stopped the car without it being seen," Sherlock said, frowning as he glanced around the alleyway. "But all they'd need is one."

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