Monopoly on suffering
Back at NCIS, Buchanan led McGee to be checked out by Ducky, and Gibbs starts grilling the eldest Hartmann. Tony and Ziva start interrogating young Jimmy.
Once McGee gets a clean bill of health from Ducky, who confirms Buchanan's diagnosis, they go to the observation room to see what is going on.
Eugene Hartmann does not give a rat's ass about Gibbs, and isn't concerned about hiding it either.
"We can prove that you were in all hospitals on the same days these men were murdered."
"A lot of people pass through the ER every day. I can't be responsible for every single one. I've never seen these people, and even if I had, I've never met them." He smirks at Gibbs. "I only clean the place; I don't control the revolving door to it." He gives a cynical smile.
"Then why did you attack me?" asks Gibbs studying the suspect.
"Your people scared my boy. You attacked me FIRST," he shouts.
Tony and Ziva join McGee and Buchanan in the observation room.
"Any success?" McGee wants to know.
"He is not talking. He just smirks at me and leers at Ziver," says Tony.
"Ziva."
"Yes."
"I'm not talking to you," Buchanan says to Ziva. She looks at Tony. "Her name is Ziva," she looks back through the mirror and Tony is opening his mouth, trying to speak. Ziva is smirking at Tony.
Buchanan 2 x Tony 0, thinks Ziva.
She approaches Buchanan.
"Do you think he did it?"
"I know he did it," Buchanan says vehemently, "but we need a confession to make the accusation hold before the District Attorney. All our evidence is circumstantial, and only proves that he was there in the hospital on the same day they were in the ER or were admitted in the hospital, not that committed any murder at all."
"We can't even prove that he met our vics," says McGee.
"But the profile says…" says Ziva.
"I know what the profile says," interrupts Buchanan. She looks frustrated at the two men in the other side of the mirrored glass. "But a profile is never enough to convict anyone in court. We need proof that he committed the murders."
The four agents are looking at Gibbs and the suspect when the door opens and Abby enters with some papers in her hands.
"Is that him?"
"Yes, it's our perp," says Tony.
"Did you find something?" asks Ziva.
"I think I did," she says and starts giving papers to the agents. "I started a background check on Twiddle Dee and Twiddle Dum and ran into something interesting," she moves excitedly on her high-heeled boots.
"What did you find?" McGee wants to know.
"Ernest Hartmann died in the same accident and on the same night that took the lives of victim number one's wife and daughter."
Buchanan looks at Abby. Tony looks at the papers Abby gave him. "How did it happen?" He is browsing the info on them. Buchanan frowns at whatever she is reading on her papers.
"Apparently, he had just been diagnosed with cancer, and they were coming back from the medical appointment when he lost control of the car and crashed. Two other cars were involved, and one motorcycle from the one and only young Hartmann," continues Abby.
"That's it. That's the trigger." She collects the pictures of the victims and the dead teenager and moves to the door.
"No, no, no," says Abby.
"What are you doing?" McGee wants to know.
"I'm going to give Gibbs the new evidence."
"No," shouts Abby.
"You can't," says Ziva.
Abby runs to the door and blocks the way. Buchanan looks at the agents as if they had lost their minds.
"Gibbs' rule number 22," explains McGee.
"What?"
"Gibbs' rule 22," repeats Tony.
"Never, ever bother Gibbs in interrogation," explains Abby.
Buchanan passes her hand through her hair in frustration. "But we have evidence…"
"Don't worry," says Abby, "Gibbs' gut will tell him," she has total faith in the gut of her fearless leader.
Buchanan looks at the other agents and is astonished to see that all agents agree with the insane (at least in her opinion) goth.
"Don't worry, he will figure it out," says Tony.
Even McGee agrees with them.
She rolls her eyes at them, makes a little prayer to the heavens and tries to get to the door again, which is still blocked by Abby, who is leaning against it with her arms open over her head.
"You can't go in there."
"Abby," says Buchanan, totally exasperated, "tell me something: Do I look like Gibbs?"
"What does it.. " murmurs Abby, confused.
"Just answer the damn question." Abby looks at her anxiously. "No you don't."
"Do I walk, talk or sound remotely like him?"
"No," says Abby.
"Then get out of my way." Buchanan hisses to Abby, who looks at the other agents who silently signal her to move. Buchanan opens the door, glances back for a second to the others, and goes down the corridor.
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In the interrogation room, Gibbs is interrupted by the entrance of his agent.
"What?"
Buchanan nods at Gibbs and slowly approaches the desk where the oldest Hartmann is. He leers at the agent, who walks slowly towards him. She softly deposits a picture on the table.
"Who is this?" asks Gibbs to his agent.
"Ask him," says Buchanan walking behind the sitting suspect.
Old Hartmann does not look at the picture. "Is this some kind of game?"
"Why don't you answer Agent Gibbs' question?" she says with ice in her voice.
Old Hartmann looks at the picture on the desk and bites his lower lip. He looks between Gibbs and Buchanan. "This is my oldest son, Ernest."
"Was," corrects Buchanan sitting besides Gibbs on the other chair. Gibbs looks at her questioningly. She elucidates. "He died in an accident last year, didn't he?"
Gibbs knows she has a point somewhere, but he is getting impatient. "So what?"
"The same accident," she puts another picture on the table, "caused by our victim number one."
The suspect stays silent looking at the picture. "You must have felt very disappointed; that the boy you had invested so much in died in such a meaningless death, a freak accident."
The suspect fidgets a little and mutters something under his breath.
"What did you say?" asks Gibbs, "I can't hear you."
The suspect shuts up. Buchanan provokes him, "Such a waste, in a freak accident."
"It wasn't an ACCIDENT!" screams Eugene. His face is transformed into a mask of rage. "HE KILLED MY SON." He rises from his chair, and Gibbs rises from his chair as well. "SIT DOWN!" barks Gibbs.
Eugene is breathing heavily, looking between Buchanan and Gibbs.
Buchanan goes for the jugular. "You put all your hopes on the shoulders of your son, the perfect oldest son who could have a great future playing in the league."
"He could have made it to the professional level, he had talent," says Eugene, with tears on his voice.
"He was just a boy, he had the right to be one,"
"He was, I was helping him to achieve his potential."
"No, you just wanted his paychecks as pro," she looks at Gibbs, "he had received an offer to a bigger team, the week he had died."
"And then that…" Eugene's voice crackles "bastard comes and destroys everything. EVERYTHING."
"He didn't have to die for that, it was an accident."
"HE MURDERED MY SON!"
"You killed an innocent man."
"He murdered my son. He deserved to die."
"He was already dead." That shuts Eugene up, and he looks at her confused. "You killed a dead man walking."
He stays silent. She continues. "The night he crashed, he had just received the worst news a family man can ever get. He was ordered to put his life in order, as he had one year, maybe two years tops to live. He would never see his daughter graduate. He would never lead her down the aisle on her wedding day. He would never have the chance to get to see his grandchildren be born. His wife, in two years' time, would be a widow."
Buchanan leans forward, "he was so astonished and scared at the news, that he missed a red sign, and crashed," she pauses, "his twelve year old daughter and his wife died outright in the accident, the very same accident," she says forcefully "that killed your son."
"He killed my boy," he murmurs under his breath.
"Other people died that night as well."
"But my boy was my EVERYTHING!" he screams, his face red in anger.
"You don't have the monopoly on suffering. You weren't the only one that lost a loved one that night." She pauses and looks at Gibbs, who is watching the interview with interested eyes. She keeps talking "you were the only one who found yourself so righteous of sharing and spreading your pain like cancer."
"After surviving the crash, he still had to live with the reality that his perfectly healthy wife and daughter were dead, while his miserable sorry cancerous ass was still alive. But somehow, he still found courage to try."
"He did chemo, he did radiotherapy. He lost weight. And his hair. But he still wanted as many as possible moments to live. He didn't want die." She leans in his face and hisses at him. "And you took it away from him."
She rises and goes around the table and stands besides Eugene, who looks at her with hatred in his eyes. "You killed him." She points to picture of the victim number one "again" she puts the picture of the vic number two "and again" vic three pic "and again" vic pic number four "and again" and she finally puts the picture of the dead petty officer on the table.
She leans on the table and looks Eugene in the eyes.
"Everyone suffers loss. Suffering can not be divided in seasons. Suffering is one very, very, very long moment which destroys everything in its path and consumes everything, every thought you have." Gibbs is looking at his new agent with new-found respect. "But under no circumstance should we use our suffering as an excuse to cause suffering to others."
"He murdered my boy," Eugene says crying at his son's picture.
"And your murdered five innocent people," she says without a hint of feeling in her voice. She stands up and starts leaving the room. She reconsiders something and turns around. "He didn't have any reason to live, but still tried. He had no family to live for, to fight for, and still he tried." She looks at the sorry excuse for a human being sobbing in front of Gibbs.
"You still had family, a son, and you destroyed him with the hatred you carried in your heart." His sobbing intensifies. Gibbs stands up and reads him his Miranda rights, cuffing Eugene Hartmann's hands behind his back.
Buchanan gets out of the room and closes the door and leans against it. The team is waiting at the door outside the observation room. They are all silent with solemn expressions on their faces. McGee approaches and tries to say something, but Buchanan does not react to him. He opens his mouth again, she looks briefly at him, shakes his head and with a hurt look on her face, walks down the corridor.
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James Joseph Hartmann and Eugene Louis Hartmann were arrested for the murder of Petty Officer Louis Phillips and four other civilian murders. The team forwarded the info to the District Attorney and informed Metro PD that they had the confession and the murderers in custody. They were extremely happy to collect the dirtbags from their hands and solve, in one single step, four cold cases.
Team Gibbs was happily filling out paperwork and planning what to do after the long workday.
"We should go celebrate," says Tony.
"I agree," says Ziva.
"It is very rare that we solve a case in only one day," completes Tony.
"Was it only one day? It seems longer," asks Ziva, astonished.
Abby comes to the bullpen.
"Abby, we are planning to celebrate our success today."
"Great, we should have a team night."
"Lovely idea,"
"There is this new band playing at …." Abby keeps talking, but Gibbs notices that his newest team member is not joining the conversation.
Joy is sitting at her desk, staring at her pen which she is rolling in circles on the table-top.
"Buchanan," he calls. She starts. "Yes, Boss." She remembered, thinks Gibbs.
"Good job in there," he says. She grimaces and looks back at her pen, still rolling it.
"We caught the scumbag. We won."
She shakes her head. "No, we didn't."
"Why?"
"They're still dead." She looks down with a frown.
"Hey, look at me," she obeys the order "you can't save everyone."
"No, you can't sir. But you can try."
Before Gibbs can say anything, Abby comes bouncing "Gibbs Gibbs, hi Buchanan, we are having a team night, we are going to the bar, wanna come with us?" She asks Gibbs, but she is looking at Buchanan. Maybe she can offer an olive branch to the probie.
"Where are you going?" asks Buchanan.
"There is this new rockabilly bar which serves great drinks near M street," says Abby.
"A bar," Buchanan repeats, looking briefly at McGee. He blushes.
"Ah Probie, one day you have to tell us about this drink…" says Tony with a leer.
"What are you guys talking about?" asks Gibbs curious.
"McGee met Buchanan in a bar. They had a drink together."
Gibbs looks between his two agents, besides McGee's soft blush there is nothing on Buchanan's face but a smirk.
"His was a Cuba Libre, mine a vodka on ice."
"What exactly was in those drinks?" wonders Ziva. Buchanan smiles but does not respond.
The team gets ready to leave. Buchanan does not move from her place.
"Are you coming?" McGee wants to know hopefully.
"No, I had enough of bars lately," she answers "and I still have some phone calls to do."
His face falls a little, but he manages to mutter an OK, and follows the team, who, led by Abby, leave the room in a noisy fashion.
Silence falls on the bullpen. Buchanan sits back on her chair and looks at the nearly empty room. She then looks at the landline on her desk.
She dials a number she knows by heart, and waits a few seconds for the call to go through.
"Living God Baptist Church, Annie speaking. How can I help you?" a soft voice says on the other side of the line.
"Hi, Annie, It's Joy. Is he in?"
"Hi, sweetheart, please hold, I will transfer you." Joy spends a couple of seconds listening to mellow country music. She taps the pen on the desk on the rhythm of the music.
"Reverend Buchanan speaking," a firm masculine voice says.
"Hi, dad," says Joy into the phone, softly.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.