Disclaimer: NCIS as well as the NCIS characters do not belong to me. This is just for fun.
A/N: Rated PG-13 for violence.
I would like to thank my betas, Rinne and Tweeter. Rinne not only gave me good comments on the story and corrected my grammar, but also taught me some useful rules that seem to have already improved the way I write dialogue. She also saved me from a rather significant plot hole. Tweeter helped me decide between two versions of one of the chapters and made very useful comments that improved the text.
Any mistakes made are my own.
Chapter 2
Gibbs was getting annoyed. Talking to the press was never one of his favourite pass times, but ever since he mishandled the media on the recent "model boot camp" case, he was even more aware of how unsuited he was to media relations. The problem was that he couldn't think of anyone on his team that would be any better. Ziva was about as tactful and patient as he was, not to mention her tendency to misuse English and invent the most bizarre phrases, Tony would no doubt start flirting with all the female reporters and McGee would get so nervous you wouldn't be able to understand a word he was saying. No, this was one task he couldn't delegate to anyone on his team. After being asked for the twentieth time whether this was a racially motivated hate crime, and repeating that they had just arrived at the scene and had no information regarding the motive for this crime as of yet, he managed to disengage himself and head back towards his team.
Tony was just getting off the phone. "Boss, we got the name of the marine off his dog tags, Sergeant Charles Richards. Served a tour in Iraq, was injured and returned home six months ago, currently on leave and staying with his parents. I just got their address. They live close by."
"Tony, Ziva, you're with me," Gibbs barked. "McGee, stay here and take care of the crime scene."
The three agents got into one of the two NCIS vans and drove to the address of the victim.
When they arrived there, Gibbs told Ziva and Tony to start talking to the neighbours and see if they could find out more about the Sergeant. He was going to give the family the bad news.
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The street the Richards family lived on was part of a quiet middle-class suburban neighbourhood. It was around 12:30 in the afternoon and no one was home in most of the houses Tony and Ziva visited. The old lady living right across from the Richards' house was shocked to hear the news of what happened to "poor Charlie". From her, they learned that the Richards family moved into the neighbourhood about 15 years before when Charlie was just a small child. She had nothing but good words to say about him and seemed to regard him as a hero, back from the war.
"He was such a good child, always helped me with my bags when I came back from town. Oh, his poor, poor mother."
The only other house they found to be occupied was the one four houses to the right of the Richards family home. When they knocked a woman, Mrs Arnold, opened the door and, after they identified themselves, let them in. Ziva thought the house looked like one of those American homes you'd see in movies from the 50's and that Mrs Arnold seemed to fit right in: the perfect housewife. The woman seemed to be extremely upset after hearing the news.
"Charlie was such a lovely young man," she said. "My husband thought the world of him. He said Charlie was the best student he ever had. Most children don't really like math, but Charlie couldn't get enough of it."
She paused, looked down at her feet and continued. "I don't know how I'm going to tell Natalie about this."
"Natalie?" asked Ziva
Mrs. Arnold lifted her eyes from her feet and looked up at Ziva. "My daughter. She and Charlie were close friends, since they were little. What am I going to say to her?"
"Where is she now?" asked Tony.
"At work," answered Mrs. Arnold.
"Why don't you give us her work address?" suggested Tony. "That way we can tell her ourselves."
Mrs. Arnold seemed almost relieved at Tony's suggestion. She wrote the address down on a piece of paper and handed it to Tony.
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Mrs. Arnold's daughter, Natalie, worked as a secretary in a veterinarian clinic, just a few blocks from where she lived. While she attempted to maintain a cheerful demeanour towards what she assumed were respective clients, Natalie Arnold seemed to Ziva to be worried about something. As Tony introduced himself and Ziva as NCIS agents, and explained what NCIS stood for, Ziva studied the young woman. Natalie kept playing nervously with her long blond hair and seemed to grow more and more agitated as Tony continued with his introduction. After Tony gently broke the news of what had happened to Charles Richards, the girl broke down crying. Ziva tried to comfort her by putting her hand on her shoulder, but felt a kind of inadequacy. She wasn't very good at comforting people she didn't know and didn't really know how to handle it when people, that she wasn't close to, started crying. Finally, to Ziva's relief Natalie stopped crying. Tony handed her a tissue and she blew her nose. From her response it was clear to both Tony and Ziva that Charles and Natalie were more than just friends. When they asked Natalie about it, she confirmed that indeed ever since Charlie had gotten back from Iraq, they had become romantically involved. They were even starting to discuss getting engaged and were planning on telling their families about it. Ziva asked Natalie why it was that even before they told her about what happened to Charles, she seemed to be worried.
"Last week," said Natalie, "we went to the movies, with some friends, and Charlie got into an argument with this guy."
"What was the argument about?"
The girl started tugging on her hair again. "He didn't like the fact that Charlie and I were together. He started making comments. When he used the N-word, Charlie punched him in the face." Ziva had to strain her ears to hear the last part, because Natalie was almost whispering, when she mentioned the racist word.
"What happened then?" asked Tony.
The girl replied, "Charlie's friends pulled him off the guy. He was screaming curse words and racial slurs and he promised he would get back at Charlie."
Ziva asked, "Did you know who he was?"
"He used to go to school with us, his name is Jeff White. I've been so worried that something would happen, because Jeff is hanging around with a really bad bunch of skinheads. I've been terrified that he might bring over his friends and make good on his promise."
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Gibbs, Tony and Ziva were sitting in the NCIS van, parked in front of the warehouse that, according to the local police, was being used as a headquarters for the skinheads Jeff White was hanging around with. They were waiting for McGee to arrive with the warrant to search the premises.
Gibbs was on the phone with Abby. "What have you got for me, Abs?"
"The Sergeant's body was covered in blood, but not all of it was his. I think there are samples from at least four other people, I'm still working on isolating them. I also may have some saliva samples."
"What about prints?" Gibbs questioned.
"The rope had a few sets of prints on it. Most of them aren't in the system, but one set is."
"Give me a name, Abby."
"Martin Short, a skinhead; one count of aggravated assault, served two years, is currently out on parole, residing not three miles from where Sergeant Richards was found."
Gibbs scribbled the details down. "Thanks, Abs."
"You're more than welcome, Gibbs."
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Tony couldn't just sit in silence and wait; it was driving him mad. Gibbs was talking to Abby on the phone and Ziva seemed content to just sit and stare at the warehouse, but he needed some conversation. He turned to Ziva. "Penny for your thoughts."
Ziva looked at him and replied, "That's a bit cheap, isn't it?"
"What is?" asked Tony.
"A penny, my thoughts are worth more than that."
Tony rolled his eyes. "It's just an expression Ziva."
"Well you should really update your expressions. Offer me fifty dollars and we'll see."
Tony smiled at Ziva. "I'll pay you 50 dollars if you agree to answer my questions on Paul," he said.
She turned towards him and asked, "Why are you so interested in Paul, Tony? Why this obsession?"
Tony replied, "I'm not obsessed. I just don't see why you're allowed to know everything about my private life and I'm not allowed to know anything about yours. You're my partner, for god's sake. Partners are supposed to share."
Ziva stared at Tony. "The only reason I know everything about your life is that you share all the details with everyone you've ever met, whether they wanted to know or not."
Tony started to object to this, only to be interrupted by McGee arriving with the warrant
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The NCIS agents burst into the warehouse, guns in hand, and surprised the five skinheads that were sitting around a table drinking beer and playing cards. The warehouse itself looked like a museum of hate paraphernalia. A large Nazi flag covered the wall behind the table, and Hitler's portrait hung on another piece of wall. Posters glorifying Arian unity and power as well as other posters warning against a Jewish conspiracy to take over the world, could also be seen. One of the Skinheads, a stocky man in his early twenties, that seemed to be the leader, smiled at the agents and said, "Look, guys, it's the agents of our Zionist government."
"Which one of you is Martin Short?" asked Gibbs, training his gun on the skinheads.
"That would be me," said the still smiling skinhead.
Ziva, who was being covered by Tony, McGee and Gibbs, approached him. "Assume the position," she ordered. Short was starting to comply when he saw the Star of David hanging from her neck.
"Look guys they sent a bitch Ki-" he started saying, but never managed to finish the sentence. He found himself on the floor, with his hand bent behind his back, in a position that would allow Ziva to break it with ease. It was extremely painful.
Ziva knelt beside him, maintaining her grip on his hand, and whispered into his ear, "Nobody, ever calls me that. In fact, if I hear another racial slur, any racial slur, come out of your filthy, racist mouth, I will truly teach you the meaning of pain. Are we clear?"
Short mumbled a weak "yes" and Ziva lifted him up and handed him over to Tony. As the other agents cuffed the remaining four skinheads, one of which turned out to be Jeff White, Tony informed Short that he was under arrest for the murder of sergeant Charles Richards.
Short started screaming, 'I don't know what you're talking about, I didn't kill that Ni…guy." He quickly corrected himself after looking at Ziva, who was staring at him menacingly.
"We found your prints all over the rope that was used to hang him, peanut head," said Tony. "Game over!"
Before leaving the warehouse with the others, Ziva turned back and tore down the Nazi flag from the wall.
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Gibbs decided that it would be best to let the skinheads sit and steam for a while before starting the interrogation. He decided that Ziva would conduct Short's interrogation. 'Might as well use the fact that the guy is totally terrified of her.' Gibbs couldn't help but approve of the way she handled Short. It was nice to have someone on his team that was almost as scary as he was.
The interrogation should be simple enough. The case was really, more or less, open and shut. The fingerprints on the rope belonged to Short, to Jeff White and to two of the other skinheads. Gibbs was sure that the blood samples would also match them. It was clear that they had beaten Sergeant Richards up and that they had hung him from the tree. The only thing Gibbs wasn't happy about was that they hadn't found a gun in the warehouse. The skinheads must have gotten rid of it.
Just as he handed Short's file to Ziva and told her that she would be doing the interview, the phone on his desk rang and he answered it. "Yes Ducky, what have you got for me?"
As the conversation ended, Gibbs turned to Ziva and said,
"The cause of death wasn't the beating. It was the bullet Ducky found in him."
"Well, isn't that what we assumed?" offered Ziva. "After they got tired of beating him up, they finished him off by shooting him."
"According to Ducky, he was already dead when the beating started. If we can't find that gun, or get a confession, we have no way to prove that Short and his friends actually murdered the Sergeant. They'll be able to say they found him dead and just had fun defiling his body. They'll be out of jail in no time."
TBC
Author's Chapter Notes:
An African American marine is found dead, beaten and hanging from a tree. Was it a lynching?