What The Eyes Can't See

Chapter 18: Gil And Catherine – Curses!

“Want to tell me what’s going on?” Catherine asked. This was the first
time that she and Gil had been alone since hearing the news about the
Miller boy being found.

“What do you mean?” Gil said vaguely.

The look that Catherine directed at the man was easily interrupted
despite the sunglasses that covered part of her face. “Are you really
going to try that on me?”

Gil remained silent and watched the scenery pass.

“Oh, come on Gil. How long have we been working together? You really
think I haven’t figured it out?”

Gil quickly looked at the woman, eyes widened in surprise.

Pointing a finger at him, “Ah ha, there is something going on!”

Grissom remained silent but frowned at the slight deception.

Glancing at the road in front of her before turning back to Gil, “You
know who the anonymous...”

Before Catherine could continue, Gil interrupted her. “Catherine,
whether or not your,’ he paused, ‘assumption is correct, that is between
myself and Jim. As far as the team and you,’ he stressed, ‘know, the tip
was completely anonymous.”

“Who are you protecting, Gil? This anonymous person,’ she glanced once
more at the man beside her over the rim of her glasses, ‘or yourself.”

Grissom remained silent once again.

“Damnit, Gil. You and Brass could be compromising the Miller case. If
something is up with this tipper and the defense finds out...Michael
Ackers and Olivia Martinez could get off. And let’s not forget how bad
it will look for the department.”

“You sound just like Ecklie.”

A gasp echoed through the interior of the SUV and than a heavy silence
filled the moving vehicle. Gil closed his eyes for a moment before
looking over at Catherine. He could easily see the tensed muscles of her
jaw working as she fumed quietly.

“I’m sorry, Catherine. That was uncalled for. I understand your
concerns but please…please trust me in this.” He pleaded.

Silence followed his words before Catherine slowly exhaled. “Okay,
Gil. I’ll drop it. But you should know that I wasn’t the only one who
knows that something is up. The others know that you and Brass have some
sort of secret between you and that it has something to do with the
Miller boy.”

Gil only nodded his understanding before Catherine turned the vehicle
into a parking lot, “We’re here.”

Both CSI agents exited the large vehicle with kits in hand. As they
entered the faux façade of a roman structure, Catherine spotted one of
the officers on duty and began walking toward him, her heals clicking
sharply against the wood floors. She soon realized that Gil was not
following along. She turned back to where she had last seen the man and
immediately spotted him admiring one of the few pieces the museum had on
display.

“Gil?”

Without turning around, he waved Catherine on. “You go ahead, I’ll be
there in a few minutes.”

She rolled her eyes and turned to follow the officer.

*****

Gil gazed admirably into the display case that held one of the museums
latest acquisitions. A Mayan stone figure of the Jaguar God made
completely of a dark gray stone except for two jade emeralds glittering in
the artificial light incased in the eyes. The edges of the foot tall
piece had been worn down by centuries of exposure to the elements. He
could barely make out the intricate details and scripture made by its
original craftsman but Gil could imagine what this figurine may have
looked like in its entirety.

“Beautiful.” He whispered.

“Isn’t it?” A voice from closely behind him replied.

Gil turned to see a woman in her early fifties standing slightly behind
and to the right of him, her hands neatly folded in front of her.

She smiled slightly at Gil. “Hello, I’m Helen Worthan, curator of the
museum.” She walked closer to Gil to stand next to him in front of the
case.

As she gazed into the display, she sighed. “The Mirage has a similar
piece in their rainforest habitat. Only difference is theirs looks
shiny and new and covered in 24 karat gold.’ She turned to face Gil, ‘It’s
hard for any museum to compete with that.”

“I prefer the original.” He stated simply, shrugging his shoulders.

“You are one of the few, Mr…”

“Grissom, Gil Grissom from the Las Vegas Crime Lab.” He offered his
hand to the woman.

She eagerly took the hand, “Welcome to the Las Vegas Museum of Ancient
History, Mr. Grissom.”

He nodded, “Unfortunately, I am not here for a visit.”

Sadness briefly overtook the older woman’s features before easing into
an air of professionalism. “Yes, you’re here for Donald. Follow me,
please.”

Gil walked beside the woman but continued to glance around at the
various displays within his sight. The two had passed several officers as
they reached a section of the museum where only authorized personal were
allowed to enter.

Gil noticed Catherine standing just outside a doorway and speaking to
one of the uniforms. As he approached, Catherine turned to them.

“Helen Worthan, Catherine Willows, my co-worker.” Gil introduced the
two women. As they shook hands, Gil glanced into the room.

Dark grained wood was prevalent in the room, from the built in
bookcases that surrounded the room to the large desk that occupied the center.
As Gil’s eyes swept over the bookcases, he could determine that it held
countless reading materials ranging in age. From scrolls carefully
rolled and sealed in plastic bags, small slabs of stone with well-worn
cartouches, to more current offerings with bindings with titles hard to
distinguish even at a closer glance were available. Scattered among
them, ancient artifacts acted as bookends. Either these items were too
eroded by time or too common for the viewing pleasure of the museums
visitors or these were the personal collection belonging to the man who
reigned in this room. Most of these items were of South American descent;
Mayan if he wasn’t mistaken much like the Jaguar God he had admired a
short time ago.

Gil’s gaze returned to the large desk and to the body slumped there.
From his vantage point, he could only tell that the man had a slim frame
with brown wiry hair. Donald Winterset’s death most likely occurred
quickly due to the fact that the man was slumped forward with his face
pressed against the desk calendar. The cause of his death was still
unknown since no outward indicators were evident. Dr. Al Robbins would be
better able to determine how the victim had died.

He stepped away from the doorway as Medical Examiners entered the room
gingerly to examine and remove the body. Once they were clear of his
path, Gil walked down the hallway toward Helen Worthan who was quietly
being questioned by Catherine.

“Ms. Worthan? What makes you suspect that this was a homicide?” He
asked once he reached the pair.

She glanced down the hallway sadly before replying. “This isn’t the
first death that has occurred here, Mr. Grissom. Two weeks ago, a member
of Dr. Winterset’s team died rather suddenly. Doctors ruled it a heart
attack.”

“What makes you think differently?” Catherine asked.

“He was a 22 years old grad student and healthy as far as I could see.
During the funereal I overheard some of his distraught family
discussing that he had recently had a physical and was given a clean bill of
health.’

“Donald was very upset about this and…scared. The day after the
funeral, he set up an appointment with his own physician. When I asked him
how it went, he told me that they couldn’t find anything wrong. But…he
still seemed…jittery…nervous about something.”

“He didn’t say anything about what was bothering him?” Gil asked
softly.

Ms. Worthan shook her head but hesitated for a moment.

Gil noticed the sudden hesitation, “There’s more?”

“Yes…kinda silly actually.” She chuckled without feeling.

Gil and Catherine waited patiently for her to continue.

“Well…it’s regarding our newest acquisition, the Jaguar God you were
admiring when we first met, Mr. Grissom.’

“It was actually brought to us by Dr. Winterset in his recent dig in
South America. In fact, several grad students went with him…including
Tom, the young man I was speaking of before. When they first brought the
item to me, they were joking about a particular myth surrounding the
figure.”

“A myth?” Catherine said skepticism shadowing her voice.

“Yes, Ahau-Kin, the Jaguar God is the Lord of the Underworld, made by a
priest for this deity. What Donald learned from the village locals was
that the priest chanted over the piece as he chipped away at the stone.
The dark chants were said to imbue the statue. The villagers believed
that it was supposed to help those who are chosen by Ahau-Kin and as
they have held the statue in their hands, they are destined to join
Ahau-Kin in the Underworld as a sacrifice to the Lord of the Underworld’s
greatness. The priest made the piece so that no matter what the future
held, Ahau-Kin would always be respected and served by those that have
lived in this plane.”

“And you suspect the grad student and Dr. Winterset to have died
because of this….curse?” Catherine asked while raising her eyebrows.

“Oh, no. No, of course not.’ She shook her head with forced
certainty. “That’s silly. I do, however, suspect that maybe someone, a more
human reason, may be trying to make it look like a curse killed Tom and
Donald.” Helen replied.

“Why do you think someone would do that, Ms. Worthan?” Gil injected.

“I’m…not really sure. While archeologically this particular piece is a
rare find but monetarily, the only true value of the statue is in the
emeralds. Individually the emeralds are flawless and are about 5 karats
each,” She informed them.

Catherine whistled. “Woah…that would price them at about $500,000
each.” Gil glanced at her questioningly. “What? A girl can’t know her
jewelry?”

Ms. Worthan glanced between the two CSI investigators before replying.
“Yes, about that much.”

“A million dollars is enough for someone to think about murder. But…
if this someone was interested in acquiring the gems, and was able to
get into this office undetected to kill Mr. Winterset, why not just grab
the statue from its display case? Did Mr. Winterset, or even the grad
student, have a code or something to bypass the system?” Gil asked.

“No, in actuality, the statue no longer holds the original emeralds.
Our security is outdated and most of the artifacts housed here are
not…well, they hold little monetary value. We are a small museum and, as
such, we are unable to afford the more valuable artifacts. Some of the
larger casinos have more antiquities then we do. The only reason we
were able to acquire the Jaguar statue was because Donald funded his own
dig in Guatemala and donated his findings to the museum. For insurance
purposes, we removed the original stones and they are now being housed
at the First National Bank vaults. Only Donald and I have the
authorization papers to the safety deposit box, but we both have to be present
in order to retrieve the gems…or at least one of us and a death
certificate.” Ms. Worthan whispered the last part, looking hesitantly at the
two investigators who now studied her under a more critical eye.

“Funding a dig is expensive, how was Mr. Winterset able to afford such
an incursion on the funds of a small museum?” Gil questioned.

“He took out a very large loan and mortgaged his home several times.
He was also very frugal during the dig, sleeping in tents, and canned
foods as his only sustenance; sometimes he was able to live on the
hospitality of the local villagers nearby. And the grad students did much the
same thing. Despite his penny pinching, he was only able to sustain
the dig for two years. He was very lucky to come across the statue in
such a short period of time when most expeditions can take years,
sometimes decades, before finding anything of value. Now the dig area has
been taken over by a local University so they will be able to take credit
for all future finds.’

“I was surprised that he donated all his discoveries without asking for
any compensation. But I knew going on such an expedition had always
been a dream of his…he wanted to live like the fictional Indiana Jones,
except with less gunfire. He also believed that such artifacts were
meant for museums and they were not to be handled like common property for
example, selling for profit.”

Gil glanced over to where the ME’s rolled the bagged body of Donald
Winterset out of the room. From his brief glance into the room, he was
able to see that a gunshot was not the cause for the man’s death. At
least, Mr. Winterset’s dream had ended somewhat to the man’s wishes.

As Gil’s mind wandered over the peculiarities of the case, Catherine
thanked Ms. Worthan. “We may need to contact you for further
information, Ms. Worthan.”

“Oh, of course, anything to help find out what happened. I could also
notify Tom’s family and have them contact you with any other
information if neede,.” She supplied helpfully.

Catherine offered her business card and watched as the older woman
walked down the hallway and out of sight.

She turned to find Gil still staring at the direction the ME’s had
taken. “Gil?” Catherine’s soft voice brought his attention back to the
present.

He looked around and now noticed Ms. Worthan’s absence as well as the
uniformed officers still standing at the end of the hall.

“Ready?” He asked.

With a quick nod from his co-worker, both entered the room and began
their investigation.

*****

After two hours, Catherine finished packing her kit with several
evidence bags.

“Okay, I’ll meet you back at the office. Hopefully, Al will be able to
start right away on our DB. You okay here by yourself?” She
questioned.

Gil smiled and only opened his arms and turned around.

Catherine returned the grin. “Right…this is the perfect place for you.
Surrounded by books and all things ancient.”

“Now Catherine, don’t put yourself down like that,” Gil’s smile
widened.

She scoffed and sent the older man a death glare. “I am so outta
here.” She gave a backward wave as she exited the room.

Gil could hear the heels of her shoes clicking on the wooden floors as
Catherine strode down the hallway. They had found several fingerprints
and fibers but would have to determine whether they belonged to
Winterset or someone else employed by the museum. Most of them would probably
belong to members of Winterset’s team as well as other museum staff but
if even one was not, it might help lead the investigation in the right
direction.

Gil moved behind the desk and began opening drawers. Sifting through
the paperwork, he found several memos and financial statements
pertaining to Mr. Winterset’s trip to South America. He also came across
several photos of the location of the dig.

The rainforest jungle was a brilliant background to the two men posing
in the first picture. He easily recognized Mr. Winterset despite the
brief glimpse of him before he was taken away from the scene. Gil
wondered if the second younger man was Tom. As Gil flipped through the
remaining photos that showed different viewpoints of their camp and the dig
site, the last few pictures showed Mr. Winterset pulling out a wrapped
object from the moist ground. Mr. Winterset unwrapped the decaying
cloth to show the Jaguar God covered in centuries of dirt, the emeralds
barely discernable under the grime.

Gil placed the pictures on top of the desk and continued rummaging
through the drawer. He soon found documentation of the carbon dating on
the statue confirming that both the stone and the gems dated back to the
height of the Mayan empire. Several other documents confirmed this
including one from an antiquities expert.

He placed these next to the pictures to take back to headquarters and
continued looking through Mr. Winterset’s desk but found nothing further
except personal affects. He bagged everything to take back to the lab.

Searching through the rest of the room for any possible evidence, Gil
finished within two hours. Besides the bags of evidence, Gil decided to
take several books regarding Mayan culture for research purposes. As
Gil prepared to leave, Ms. Worthan knocked softly on the open door.

“The museum will be closing soon, Mr. Grissom. If you need more time,
I will have to let the security guard know before I leave,” She said
softly.

“Thank you but I think I have everything I need for tonight,’ Gil
smiled at the curator. “But will you be available tomorrow to retrieve the
stones Ms. Worthan?”

“Of course, please feel free to call when you have scheduled a time”

*****

Gil spent the day reading through the archeology books he had taken
from Mr. Winterset’s office, learning about the Mayan’s violent culture.
Mayan priests often celebrated their gods and goddess’s with ceremonies
offering deities the blood of men, women and children.

After several hours of reading, Gil came across a brief reference to
the statue itself. A previous archeologist had found writings detailing
the making and history of the Jaguar God. Gil took notes of the brief
paragraph and where he found the information.

A brief call from Ms. Worthan had Gil hurrying to ready himself in
order to meet the woman at the First National Bank to retrieve the stones.

*****

Gil entered his office with a secured briefcase, a sturdy box as well
as another case holding the books and papers that he had taken from the
museum. Within the briefcase, supplied to him by the bank, were
several notes as well as legal documents pertaining to the emeralds. He
placed his personal items, seized from the DB’s office, on his desk. He
continued on to the lab, with the briefcase firmly in one hand and the
box under his other arm.

“Hey, Gil,” Catherine said as she walked around the corner and spotting
the older man. Gil waited until Catherine moved closer. “I checked
through everything we found so far at Mr. Winterset’s office. All
fingerprints are either his or those of other employees of the museum. I
have some rookies checking into the backgrounds of all the employees. We
should…hopefully…have something within an hour or so. What’s that?”
She ended her speech abruptly with the last question.

“This?” Gil held up the dark briefcase and than flipped it to the
opposite side showing the bank’s logo engraved into the leather.

“Ohhh, I definitely want to see this.” Catherine’s eyes almost
sparkled at the idea of the gems.

“And you will, since you will be dusting them.” Gil lowered the case
and began walking towards his destination.

Catherine smiled and quickly caught up. The two entered one of the
specialty labs and met up with Mic, the “light guy”.

“Hey, Grissom. I got your page to meet you here,” Mic greeted. He
nodded to Catherine cordially.

Gil placed the briefcase on top of the long table, amidst the various
instruments that graced it. He placed the larger box on the floor next
to his feet. Removing a key from his back pocket, Gil opened the case.
He than removed a smaller case and without fanfare he opened the wooden
case. Lined in velvet, the two emeralds were nested inside. The
fluorescent lighting of the room caught the facets of the gems, setting them
ablaze with an inner radiance.

“Wow,” Catherine and Mic both exclaimed.

Gil grinned at their wonderment and set the case down next to the
briefcase. Retrieving a pair of gloves from his pocket and donned them, Gil
carefully took hold of one of the gems along its edge. Bringing the
item up further into the light. As he gazed into the emerald, he
instructed the other two CSI’s, “I want to verify that these are genuine.
Catherine, dust for prints. I got a list of all the possible people who
may have touched the gems. Dr. Winterset was the one to present the
gems to the bank initially and no one since today should have touched
them. So you should only find his prints maybe his grad student, Tom.”

He placed the gem back next to its sibling and closed the case. He
went to hand the case to Mic, but the small hand of Catherine Willows
intercepted the container.

“I’ll take that,” she said. Noticing the look from the two men, she
simply shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “Like I’m going to turn down
the chance to hold on to these babies. Possession is 9/10ths of the
law.”

Gil chuckled. “You do know you have to return them, don’t you?”

“Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. Go away, Gil. Mic and I have work to do.”
Catherine replied, clutching the box like a child with a new toy.

Gil raised his eyebrows at the comment and with a parting grin he left
the room. He walked toward the elevator that would than take him to
the autopsy room. Just as he turned a corner he saw Nick and Sara moving
toward him.

He nodded to the two investigators, “How’s it going?”

“We got a couple of leads and we’re on our way to question a possible
victim.” Sara said, never breaking her stride.

“How about you?” Nick asked.

The two were now walking backward, “It’s an ancient mystery,” Gil said
before turning back around and pressed the down button for the
elevator.

******

“Ah, Gil; like always, you’re just on time.” The elder coroner, Dr.
Albert Robbins, used his cane to walk to his desk. “I was just looking
over the reports of Tom Richards autopsy.”

“Anything interesting?” Gil asked.

“Nope. Except for being a man in mid 20’s and suddenly dropping dead
from a heart attack, nothing special. The medical examiner that wrote
the report seemed really thorough and detailed the damage to the heart
muscle during the attack.” He placed the report back onto the desk and
walked over to Dr. Winterset’s body that lay out on the metal table.

“Everything in that report would be exactly how I would write it…that
in itself is a clue that something is wrong. Two people…different
ages…exactly the same type of death.” Dr. Robbins leaned his cane against
the table and reached into the open cavity of the body, pulling out the
heart with gloved hands. “Exactly the reason to take a closer look.”

Gil put on his glasses as he peered closer to the muscle. “Looks
normal.” He said after examining the heart for a few moments.

“Yes…but now watch.” Dr. Robbins reached for an item on a nearby tray.
He lifted an ordinary straw and inserted on end into the right atrium
and worked it into the right ventricle. Under the watchful gaze of Gil,
Dr. Robbins blew on the other end of the straw. Gil watched as tiny
blood bubbles formed along the outer layer of the muscle.

Dr. Robbins let go of the straw and inhaled. “The tiny holes are
invisible to the naked eye. It wasn’t until I examined a sample of the
tissue under the microscope did I find them. About a dozen are scattered
over the ventricle side of the heart.”

Gil raised an eyebrow. “Only the ventricle?”

Robbins nodded. “Because the holes are so small, very little blood
actually escaped but it lowered the blood pressure enough to cause
dizziness and fainting. And eventually hemorrhaging.”

He slowly removed the straw from Dr. Winterset’s heart. “I’ve seen
this before.”

Gil stood up from his slight crouch and removed his glasses. “You
have?”

Robbins nodded before continuing. “I joined the Peace Corp soon after
medical school. It was a way to pay off my school loans. My first
tour was in South America, Argentina mostly. I was the only doctor around
for miles. A young boy came in with his blood pressure very low. His
father had brought him in and he told me how he had been teaching his
son on weapon making. Part of the process was using the sap from a
plant and coating the end of an arrow with it. It was a natural poison and
the natives knew its affects. The plant’s sap was so toxic that it is
easily absorbed through the skin and the boy had accidentally gotten
some on his fingertips.’

‘I wasn’t able to save him.” He paused for a moment before continuing.

“The poison bonds itself to oxygen deprived blood cells and travels to
the heart. Once there it begins to literally erode away at the lining
of the heart. Once oxygen reaches the blood cell the toxin dissolves
leaving little to no trace behind.’

‘Still, there should be traces of the plant derivative on the inner
surface of the ventricle. I’ve already sent some up to trace.” Robbins
said.

Gil thought for a moment before thinking the doctor and left the
morgue.

As he walked back towards the elevators, he pulled out his cell phone
and dialed. “Catherine, do me a favor. Make sure you and Mic are
wearing gloves.”

*****

Gil looked over the two toxic screens, handed to him earlier, showing
that a small amount of clear poison coated the emeralds of the Jaguar
God. The poison Dr. Robbins had encountered early on in his career was
most likely not the same exact poison as the one used in this case.
Argentina was miles and centuries away from Mayan culture, but the plant
used in this investigation was probably a close relative.

The poison was actually on the side of the emerald hidden within the
statue. Gil suspected that instead of actually being cursed, the Jaguar
God was booby-trapped. Anyone handling the statue would not come into
contact with the hidden poison, however; a thief who tried to remove
the emeralds from its socket would eventually touch it.

It explained why Dr. Winterset and Tom, his assistant didn’t pass away
until after returning to the States. The insurance company required
the removal of the stones and Tom had been the one to remove them. Dr.
Winterset would have been the one to present the stones to the insurance
agents as well as the bank manager, which may have required him to
touch the emeralds as well.

“So, another ancient mystery solved by science,” Catherine joked as she
continued to write her finishing notes for the case.

Gil grinned at his colleague and leaned back in his chair. “There are
a lot of mysteries out there still unsolved, Catherine. We only need
the right equipment and knowledge to solve them.”

As Catherine shook her head with smile, Gil thought about Emily. Twice
he had seen her abilities and while he couldn’t explain them, he
believed that one day either he, or someone else out there, would be able to
with something he had always placed his faith in, science.