Chapter Four - Monday
After getting up at 5:30 again to run, Gibbs and DiNozzo put on their new clothes and stopped in Rosa's kitchen for more instant oatmeal. They arrived at police headquarters at around 8:30. Inasmuch as it was Monday, the squad room was full with officers returning from their weekend off. On the two previous days, the two NCIS agents had not been given much attention. Today was different.
Tony had known from an early age that he was unusually attractive. Now, from his position walking behind Gibbs, Tony observed with amusement that conversation in the room ceased and heads swiveled as the two tall, handsome men, attired in their elegant new suits, walked over to Wojcewski's area. Gibbs, as usual, was oblivious to the stir they were creating.
As they sat down at their temporary desks, Wojcewski gave a low whistle while Conway grinned broadly and said, "Hi, sailors. Come here often?" Gibbs gave her the patented Gibbs glare, but Tony just laughed out loud. Jess Widstrom permitted himself one small twinge of jealousy, but had to admit that the two feds were undeniably glamorous.
As their ad hoc team began to recap what they knew so far, a steady stream of people, mostly female, began to make its way toward their area, just happening to have some small errand or other for which they needed to talk directly to Wojcewski or one of her team, and, oh, incidentally, be introduced to the handsome strangers. Gibbs was showing annoyance at the many little interruptions, but he managed for the most part to behave with civility, outside of the glare, for Wojcewski's sake.
In between visitors, Widstrom did manage to tell them that he had returned to the office yesterday afternoon. He and Anne Wojcewski had come to the same conclusion as Gibbs and DiNozzo, that Bob's murder was most likely because of his membership on the Development Council's Advisory Board. They had rousted a local judge from his comfortable seat in front of his wide-screen TV and a Cincinnati Reds game to obtain a set of search warrants.
They had next found the Development Council's office manager, who met them at the Council office and watched anxiously as they loaded up meeting minutes, financial records, and as many computer discs as they could get their hands on. Warning the office manager that they might also have to seize the computers, they returned to headquarters.
There, Wojcewski and Widstrom had requisitioned a team of investigators with accounting credentials and set them to work on the books. The CPAs had been studying the records almost all night, knocking off only at 7:00 in the morning, but they had come up with a telling little problem. Six months previously, the Council had received a $145,000 down payment on a grant from a local foundation. The purpose of the grant was to do a study of one block of run-down but still occupied housing and determine what would be the best plan for it. The day after receiving the check, the office manager had written a check for $145,000 to Gus Kaikonia's construction company, and there was no evidence anywhere that the money had been spent on the purpose for which it was granted..
"They're that blatant?" Gibbs asked.
"They must be feeling invincible or something," Tony added.
"We're building a really good circumstantial case against Kaikonia," said Anne, "but we still need to find the smoking gun."
"Literally," Mary Conway pointed out.
Gibbs then confessed that he and Tony had visited Kaikonia the previous afternoon.
Wojcewski raised an eyebrow in annoyance. "I thought you guys were going to follow our lead," she said. "Oh, well, did you find out anything interesting?"
DiNozzo said, "He has a bodyguard who looks like Mr. Clean without the charm."
Widstrom replied, "That would be his chief of security, so to speak. "Theo Paronis." Widstrom turned around to his computer and in a moment had a photo of Paronis on the screen, along with his rap sheet. After studying the data, a list of arrests going back more than twenty years, with but few convictions, Gibbs commented, "Charming fellow."
Wojcewski responded, "Kaikonia's been buying him out of trouble for a long time. We'd like to nail him, too."
"What else did you learn?" Conway asked DiNozzo.
"He has three exceptionally lovely young ladies living with him. Some sort of harem, I gather," Tony answered. "They told me he's an avid gun collector, even has a special room to house them where he and Paronis make their own bullets."
"We knew that he was a gun collector, but as far as we know, he doesn't hunt," Wojcewski said.
"At least not for Bambi," added Widstrom.
Wojcewski turned to Conway. "Did we check on the physical composition of the bullet we got?"
Conway picked up her phone. "We didn't specifically ask for it," she said. "I'll ask the lab if they did it already."
At that moment Wojcewski's phone rang. Picking it up, she listened for a minute, then hung up. She had a troubled look on her face.
"The Development Council's office manager was just found dead at her desk. Shot in the temple."
The group was silent for a moment. Gibbs said, "They just upped the ante."
"She did call Kaikonis and a couple of other people while we were there yesterday," Widstrom reported.
Wojcewski turned to Gibbs and DiNozzo. "You guys want to work the scene with us?"
Gibbs replied, "We'd love to, but we're going to have to leave soon for Bob's funeral. What say we meet back here this afternoon."
Anne, Mary, and Jess packed up their gear and left. Gibbs and DeNozzo continued to review the reports that had been collected until it was time for them to leave.
The First Congregational Church in Columbus was slightly more than a mile away from police headquarters. Entering the vestibule about ten minutes before the service was to begin, Gibbs and DiNozzo saw Neva waving them over to where she stood with other members of the family.
"Jethro," she said, "I'd like you to sit with me and Lauren. And, Tony, if you wouldn't mind, would you sit behind us with Eric and Lance?"
The group watched as mourners entered the church, and the vestibule began to fill with robed choir members. Neva explained that the choir would proceed down the aisle, followed by the ministers and then the family.
Neva's eyes started to tear up again. "Even though it's Monday, everyone in the church wanted to participate, to show their respect for Bob. As Gibbs embraced her, she continued, "I'd just as soon have him back and not know about the respect."
From the sanctuary they could hear organ music. Right on the dot of eleven, the organist paused before beginning a favorite old hymn, "Our God, Our Help in Ages Past." The choir, hymn books in hand, stepped off down the aisle into the sanctuary. When the ministers had followed the choir, the family fell in line behind them. The choir took their places in the choir loft, the ministers stood behind the altar, and the family members filled the front three pews on either side of the aisle. Gibbs sat close to Neva, no doubt holding her hand. Tony sat in the pew behind them with Neva's two sons on either side of him.
It had been a while since Tony had been in a church. The only church he'd visited during his time in Columbus was the chapel at the U. He had more or less abandoned his Catholic faith once he left his family home, but now he looked appreciatively at the multitude of gleaming ranks of organ pipes above the altar, the tall windows, and the way the choir's wine-colored robes glowed against the fine, dark wood panels. Even though the Congregational faith had grown out of that of the Puritans, which traditionally eschewed the excesses of Catholic worship, this building was magnificently appointed, which somehow seemed to make it easier to worship a god he wasn't sure he believed in any more.
The altar was draped in black with a small, exquisitely constructed wooden casket on it, which Tony surmised probably contained Bob Bullard's ashes. On either side of the casket stood the two portraits he'd seen last evening at the wake.
As usual, Lance Bullard was fidgeting energetically, but his brother Eric sat on Tony's other side, leaning slightly against the older man's arm. His eyes showed the effects of lots of crying, and even during the service he sobbed noticeably several times.
The service consisted of several anthems sung by the choir, hymn singing by the congregation, prayers recited by the ministers, and a brief homily and a longer eulogy delivered by the senior minister. The eulogy contained a long and varied list of Bob Bullard's accomplishments and achievements, including his service to the church. There was no doubt that, even in a relatively large city like Columbus, he had made his presence known through his good works.
Tony was not surprised to discover that Neva had asked Jethro to speak. Gibbs took his place at the pulpit and looked around the standing-room only congregation.
"I hardly remember a time when I didn't know Bob Bullard," he began. "We met on the first day of basic, sitting next to each other in the barber chairs getting our ears lowered."
He continued talking about his friendship with the deceased and the experiences, both military and civilian, they'd shared over the years.
"As a criminal investigator," he said, "I deal with premature and violent death every day on the job. Most of the time, I put my personal feelings aside, a job that I'm very good at. Today, though, my heart is aching. One of my best and oldest friends has been murdered. I'm doing everything I can to see that his killer or killers are brought to justice. In the meantime, all I can do is salute him, one ex-Marine to another."
Facing the small box on the altar, Jethro brought his right hand slowly up to his forehead in a measured salute. As he lowered his hand, he said with a voice cracking with grief, "Semper fi, buddy."
From the gallery above and behind the sanctuary a bugler began to play "Taps." Tony and many other congregants twisted their necks to look and saw another large beautiful organ, in front of which stood a Marine in dress blues playing the bugle. Throughout the service many people, not just the official mourners, had had tears in their eyes. As the full, rich, yet infinitely sad sound of "Taps" echoed through the sanctuary, there was an obbligato of soft sobs. Even Tony felt his eyes sting. Beside him, Eric turned his head to bury his face on Tony's shoulder, his own shoulders quaking.
After the final prayer, the minister spoke. "There will be no funeral procession. The family invites all of you to join them now in Fellowship Hall, just below the sanctuary, for lunch."
The organ played the final hymn; the choir recessed, singing, down the aisle, followed again by the ministers, and then the rest of the congregation. Ushers appeared to lead the family members down a set of stairs near the altar. In Fellowship Hall several tables held the usual over-abundance of food. In a separate kitchen, women wearing aprons were removing still more dishes from ovens and refrigerators and setting them out.
Neva and Lauren and members of Bob's family stood in a receiving line, accepting still more condolences. Tony shepherded the two boys past a couple of the tables of food and then found a table nearby at which to sit. Eric, still showing signs of grief, only picked at his food. Lance gobbled down the contents of his plate and then excused himself, saying he was going back for seconds, but in reality making connections with some other kids his age.
"Are you all right?" Tony asked Eric.
"I just can't believe it," Eric replied, looking up at him. "My dad was the best guy in the world. Who would want to kill him?"
"We're starting to get some leads," Tony told him. "I'm beginning to think maybe he was too good, and that's why he was killed. There are a lot of bad people in the world who don't like the good people."
Eric looked as though that was no consolation.
Lance came rocketing back at this moment, and, noticing Eric's tear-filled eyes, jeered him. "Crybaby!"
Eric glared at his younger brother. "You don't seem to understand. Dad's dead, and he's never going to come back." He jumped out of his chair, heading for the stairs.
Lance followed his brother's retreat with wide eyes. He sat down again next to Tony. "I know dad is dead," he said. "What's wrong with him?"
"He's very sad," Tony told him. "He just has a different way of dealing with it than you do."
"Oh. Okay." Lance said. "I'm gonna get something else to eat." He took off again.
Tony shook his head at the emotional roller coaster of impending puberty. For some time he sat watching the crowd, occasionally speaking with people who passed by his table. After some time, it was Gibbs who approached.
"You ready to go?" Gibbs asked.
"Any time you are."
They made their way back to Neva to let her know they were leaving.
Tony had barely pulled the car out onto East Broad Street when he glanced into the rear view mirror and saw a large gray car pull out from the curb a block or so behind him.
"I think we've got company," he announced to Gibbs.
As he began to accelerate, looking back again, he saw the car behind was speeding up as well, closing the distance considerably. He saw an arm emerge from the passenger side window.
"Duck!" he yelled. "Gun!" At the same moment they heard a loud bang and felt the car kick. When Tony applied the brakes hard, the car fishtailed and came to a clunking halt. At the same instant Gibbs and DiNozzo opened their doors and piled out while grabbing their guns. The car behind them, though, had already spun around in a tire-squealing U turn and headed back in the opposite direction, and there were too many other cars and pedestrians on the busy street for them to get a clear, safe shot.
"Somebody's apparently getting a little nervous," Tony said, reholstering his gun.
"Ya think?" Gibbs replied.
Tony knelt down to examine the now shredded tire and mangled wheel. "We aren't going anywhere soon," he announced, standing up and brushing bits of gravel from the knees of his new suit.
Gibbs already had flipped open his cell and was calling Wojcewski for assistance.
"I got the plate number," Tony announced, once more finding his ability to read backward an investigational asset. Gibbs relayed the information to Anne, who immediately pulled up the number, which revealed that the car was a late-model Mercedes registered to one Augustus Kaikonia.
"Bring him in, and his goon, too," Gibbs told Wojcewski. "Do you have a search warrant for the house?"
The answer was apparently satisfactory. Closing the cell, Gibbs told Tony, "The police tow truck will be here in about 20 minutes."
"We're close enough; we could walk back in less time than that."
"We need to stay here for now. That wheel's evidence that needs to be secured. Did you find the slug?"
Cursing to himself, DiNozzo knelt down again to examine the ground under the car.
"There's no exit hole in the wheel," he reported. "We'll have to wait until the lab pulls it open."
He stood up again. "Why do I get the feeling that there's a lot more than a measly $145,000 involved here?"
"Maybe because there's a lot more than $145,000 involved," replied Gibbs.
Nearly an hour later, after the car was towed to the police garage, they were back in the squad room. Wojcewski had left a message that the Chief had agreed to pay for the repairs to the rental, since it was now officially evidence of a crime. He also was making a department car available to the two agents.
In the meantime, Wojcewski and her team were on their way to Kaikonia's house with backup and wouldn't be back for some time. Several reports had arrived in the meantime. The bullet that had killed the Development Council's office manager had been found and analyzed. Tests on its composition and that of the bullet that killed Bob showed that they were both made from the same type of lead. Again the bullet was deformed, but the lab had been able to determine that it was .357 calibre. There were enough markings on both bullets that, if a weapon was retrieved, ballistics should be able to confirm that both were fired from the same gun.
Tony took advantage of a few minutes of their down time to call McGee, who reported that they were mostly working on cold cases. Ziva had had lunch with the director and returned looking like the cat who ate the canary. Tim didn't have any idea what that was about.
Tony described the case and mentioned that they were in the process of pulling in a suspect so that the case might be wrapped up yet today, by tomorrow for sure. After describing the church service, he talked about the fact they'd been shot at, but that they were fine, although their rental car had sustained major trauma.
Impressed, Tim exclaimed, "Wow! Who's gonna pay for the repairs?"
"Department.. It's evidence now," Tony replied and rang off after a few more pleasantries. He chose not to mention to Gibbs that Ziva and Shepard were playing gal-pals again.
Tony also made a couple of calls to former classmates who still lived in the Columbus area. Gibbs listened as Tony laughed and reminisced with them, but was pleased that Tony informed them he was in town on business and not likely to have time for a face-to-face get-together with them.
It was an hour before Wojcewski and her team returned with their suspects and boxes of evidence, including no fewer than three Magnum pistols, several containers of bulk lead, and two bullet molds. Gus Kaikonia and Theo Paronis were downstairs being processed before being placed in interrogation rooms. The Mercedes was in the police garage, its engine still warm from stalking Gibbs and DiNozzo.
"There's so much evidence available," Anne observed. "It's hard to know where to start."
Gibbs suggested, "Let's dust everything for fingerprints first. The guns, the lead, the molds, the car."
He added, "We still have time to get a warrant for the offices of Kaikonia's construction company."
Conway picked up the phone to call the friendly judge again.
Gibbs went on, "I supposed by now it's too late to try to get tire tracks over by the church."
"Yeah," agreed Tony. "There's a lot of traffic on that street. If there were any tracks, they're probably wiped out by now."
"Either of you boys want to do the interrogations?" Wojcewski asked the NCIS agents.
"One of Gibbs's specialties is interrogation," Tony offered. "He just glares at suspects and scares ‘em so much they just give it up."
The others, having observed the Gibbs stare, laughed. Anne cocked an eyebrow at Gibbs, who gave a slight, lop-sided grin and nodded.
Wojcewski's phone rang, and when she had answered, she listened for several minutes. "Glad to hear it," she said to the caller. "Thanks for your help."
After hanging up, she turned to the blended team. "State bears," she explained. "When we got to Kaikonia's place and picked the guys up, one of the bimbos asked if we were going to arrest Jimbo, too. Imagine our surprise."
Tony asked, "Who's Jimbo?"
Mary Conway answered. "Turns out he's another one of Gus's bodyguards. When he saw us coming, he took off so we put out an APB."
"Yeah," Anne said with a grin. "Apparently, he really pissed off the bears. He headed south toward Cincinnati on Interstate 71. He passed a patrol unit clocking 90 miles per hour, and when the guy tried to stop him, he rabbited. Another unit going north crossed the median and blockaded him. He braked hard and skidded and hit the unit broadside. Pushed it down the highway 125 feet. Fortunately, the bear had already parachuted out. And then Jimbo came out swinging. They got the whole thing on video.'
"Are they bringing him in?" Gibbs asked.
"Well, the Mounties wanted to hang onto him for themselves, but when they realized there was an APB on him for a murder investigation, they agreed to give him up. He'll be here in about half an hour."
Gibbs suggested they begin the interrogations of Kaikonia and Paronis, but Wojcewski's phone rang again. This time it was the vehicle lab, requesting the team's presence. Upon their arrival, they found Clint and his associates surrounding the Mercedes. He led them to the passenger side door, where he had discovered a fourth Magnum .357 in the side pocket. The gun was on its way up to the lab for fingerprinting. They had also found several prints on the steering wheel.
The lab guys had also dismounted the right rear wheel from Gibbs' and DiNozzo's rental, and upon pulling the shredded rubber off, found inside the wheel the now-familiar misshapen chunk of lead. Clint promised to let them know immediately when he had more results for them.
By the time they returned to the interrogation area, Jess Widstrom had prepared a folder containing the evidence they had collected so far. Gibbs quickly reviewed it, then entered the room where Gus Kaikonia was waiting.
He was slouched in his chair, wearing a casual shirt and slacks instead of his bathing suit. Seeing Gibbs, he straightened up, preparing for battle.
"You again," Kaikonia said.
"Yeah, me again," Gibbs answered. He sat down across from Gus and looked through the folder again. Then he closed the folder, looked at Gus, and waited.
"Yeah, what?" Gus demanded. "Why'd you pull me in.?"
"I have reason to believe you are responsible for the murder of Bob Bullard and probably Alice Soles, the office manager at the Columbus Development Council."
"I didn't kill anybody," Gus protested.
"I believe you," said Gibbs, to Kaikonia's surprise. "However, while you may not have pulled the trigger yourself, I believe you ordered their murders."
"You can't prove that," Gus said defiantly.
"I will," Gibbs promised.
Someone knocked at the door of the interrogation room. Excusing himself politely, Gibbs stepped out. Wojcewski handed him a note that the lab had determined the prints on the gun found in the Mercedes belonged to James "Jimbo" Atwater. The steering wheel was covered with Theo Paronis's fingerprints. Clint also reported the Magnum had been fired very recently. He was about to begin ballistics tests to verify it was the gun that had fired the bullets that had killed Bullard and Soles. His team had checked the registrations of the four Magnum .357s that had been picked up. To no one's surprise, none were registered. If nothing else, they would be able to charge Kaikonia with possession of illegal weapons.
Gibbs returned to the interrogation room. "Tell me about Jimbo," he requested.
"Jimbo who?"
Gibbs shook his head impatiently. "Your employee. Jimbo Atwater."
"What about him?"
"Is he your hit man?"
"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," Kaikonia answered, starting to show some anger.
"Mr. Kaikonia, let me lay it out for you," Gibbs went on. "We have two murders. They both had connections to the Columbus Development Council. Both victims were shot in the temple. The bullets we recovered at the crime scenes were hand-made of pure lead. Both were .357 calibre. You are a member of the Development Council's Advisory Board. You have a supply of lead. You have two bullet molds for .357 calibre ammunition. We'll be comparing the bullets we found with the molds, but I'd be surprised if the bullets from the murders weren't made in your molds.
"We picked up four Magnum .357 handguns from your house and your car, at least one of which was fired very recently. The one we found in the Mercedes has Jimbo's prints all over it. We're doing ballistics tests to compare the bullets to the firing patterns of the four guns. I'm sure one or the other will match."
He paused to look at his file again. "We're examining the records of the Columbus Development Council, the Advisory Board, and your company. We know that your company got $145,000 that was intended for a feasibility study to be done by the Development Council.
"I have no doubt we're going to be able to tie everything together once we've examined all the evidence. It would be so much more helpful if you'd just tell us everything right now, and then we wouldn't have to work so hard."
Kaikonia's glare was even more frightening than Gibbs's because it was full of hate and anger.
"You don't have anything. Your evidence isn't going to hold up. You can't pin anything on me." Kaikonia's voice was low and rough.
"If that's your story, fine," Gibbs said. "But don't forget—there are other people involved. We're questioning them, too."
"You can question everyone in town as far as I care," Kaikonia responded. "You can arrest anyone you want. I did not murder anyone. And I'm not going to answer any more questions until I talk to my lawyer."
"I'll be talking with you later." Gibbs smiled, which made Kaikonia growl. Gibbs left the room.
In the observation room, Anne Wojcewski reported that the Highway Patrol had brought in Jimbo; he was being processed. Gibbs looked at his watch. It was getting on for five o'clock.
"I have to call Neva Bullard, and let her know DiNozzo and I won't be back for a while," he reported. "DiNozzo, you want to tackle Theo?"
"With pleasure," Tony responded.
DiNozzo entered the interrogation room next door to face Theo Paronis. "Jimbo Atwater was just brought in," he told Theo. "I understand he's pretty scared, and he's telling everyone he's ready to confess."
Theo's arms were crossed over his chest. "He's a chickenshit. He ain't gonna tell the truth."
"Maybe so, but I think he will, so maybe you should, too," Tony said. "Especially when we show you and him all the evidence we have that indicates you and he are Kaikonia's paid assassins."
"So who am I supposed to kill?" Paronis demanded.
"For starters, there's Bob Bullard. Then when Alice Soles at the Development Corporation surrendered her records, Kaikonis decided she had to go, too."
"I didn't kill nobody," Paronis said sullenly.
"Then there's the matter of someone taking a shot at my partner and me, probably trying to scare us off the case," Tony went on.
"And you can prove all of this how?" demanded Theo.
DiNozzo recited the same proofs Gibbs had given Kaikonia, but Paronis was unmoved. Gibbs interrupted the session, indicating they were ready to move on to Atwater.
Atwater was a short, wiry fellow in his late forties who twitched constantly. He had thin, stringy hair, and his twill pants and plaid shirt were wrinkled and gave off a slightly sour odor. His eyes darted around; he seemed unable to look anyone in the eye. Although there was a bottle of water in front of him, he licked his lips frequently.
DiNozzo had not been lying to Paronis in saying Atwater was ready to confess everything. He had been badly shaken by the high-speed pursuit and by the crash into the highway patrol car, and the fact that he had then been surrounded by half a dozen patrolmen with drawn weapons, plus two helicopters overhead, had shaken him even more. Not only that, he realized that Kaikonia and Paronis were undoubtedly ready to sacrifice him if it meant they could save themselves.
When Gibbs entered the room, Jimbo was almost stuttering in his eagerness to tell all and cut himself as good a deal as he could get. He told Gibbs he had not been privy to all the discussions about Kaikonia's scheme, but he knew enough about the deal Kaikonia was trying to make to put Gus away for a long, long time.
Essentially, according to Atwater, Kaikonia was using his position as a member of the Development Council Advisory Board to swing a big project his way. The Council would be responsible for tearing down run-down housing on at least three city blocks, maybe more. Contracts for construction of new commercial structures would be given to Kaikonia's construction company without bidding and at vastly inflated costs, and he would share the booty with his cronies on the Development Council. Atwater thought he'd heard the deal would be worth close to a billion dollars.
Gibbs asked Atwater who had shot Bob Bullard and why.
"Kaikonia called him that night and told him he was ready to compromise. That he'd include some low-income housing in the project if Bullard would stop opposing it. It was a lie; he didn't mean it, but he wanted Bullard to meet him. Kaikonis didn't go himself; Theo and I did. Theo was the one who shot him. Gus figured with Bullard out of the picture, the other members of the council would cave. And if they didn't…." Atwater's voice trailed off, his inference hanging in the air threateningly.
"And Alice Soles?" Gibbs asked.
"When the police showed up at the council office, she got all panicky. She knew Gus was up to something, but not exactly what. She called him to find out if it was okay to give all the records to the cops, but he said no, not to let them take anything until he got there, but it was too late, they were already hauling everything out. By the time me ‘n' him got there, they were gone. She was apologizing, and he was very calm. But he gave me the nod, and I shot her." He rubbed his face. "I only practice shooting a lot. I never shot a person before."
Gibbs had another question for Jimbo. "And when my partner and I left First Congregational Church this morning, did you and Paronis tail us and take a shot at us?"
"Yeah, Theo was driving. I'm a better shot than he is, and I knew I could hit the wheel."
"Whose idea was it to do that?"
"Gus ordered us to do it," Jimbo answered. "He didn't want you dead, at least not yet, but he wanted to scare you."
Finally Gibbs finished his questioning of Jimbo. "This interview has been recorded," he told the man. "When it's typed up, you'll be signing it as your confession."
"Right," Jimbo sighed. "I'm glad it's all over with. Shooting a person. I can't believe I did that. I hate Gus Kaikonia for making me do that."
Gibbs returned to Gus Kaikonia's interrogation room. "Jimbo has confessed and implicated you in the murders of Bob Bullard and Alice Soles," he informed Gus.
Gus crossed his arms. "I didn't kill anyone."
"Like I told you before," Gibbs told him, "you might not have pulled the trigger, but the person who did, did so at your direction."
"My lawyer will have me out of here in 20 minutes," Gus said.
"You're going to be charged with solicitation for murder," said Gibbs. "I doubt you'll get bail."
Kaikonis fell silent. As Gibbs exited, Anne Wojcewski was arranging for him to be detained overnight.
At a nod from Gibbs, DiNozzo entered Theo Paronis's room to tell him that he was facing charges of murder, based on Atwater's confession. Paronis also denied killing anyone, but DiNozzo pointed out that in addition to Atwater's information, the evidence pointed clearly to his involvement in the crimes.
The team returned jubilantly to the squad room. It was almost 8:00 o'clock, but Wojcewski's desk contained a blizzard of paper, reports on what the lab techs were learning from the evidence, which did indeed point clearly to the guilt of Kaikonia, Paronis, and Atwater. There was still a lot of work to be done, though. Among other things, someone would have to examine closely the records of Kaikonia's construction company.
"Do you need us to stick around and help you with that?" Gibbs asked Wojcewski.
"Man, you've already given us so much help," she answered. "We wouldn't have been able to crack the case this soon without you. But the rest is grunt work. We'll just have to sit down and plow through it all. We can't thank you enough."
Mary Conway suggested they all go out for a drink, to which Gibbs and DiNozzo agreed. Chief Quander, who had not left the office yet, showed up, having heard that the case was solved. He congratulated the team, thanking Gibbs and DiNozzo fervently for their contribution, and accepted an invitation to join them for a drink.
At a bar not far from the headquarters building, they squeezed around a small table to trade more war stories. The Columbus people were fascinated by the work the NCIS people got to do, including chasing terrorists.
"Maybe I'll apply for NCIS myself," said Jess Widstrom. Anne Wojcewski and Mary Conway agreed.
"I'd be happy to consider it," Jethro told them.
"Well," said Chief Quander, "turn about is fair play." He turned to Tony. "Any time you want to get back into real police work, you just let me know. You'd be a real asset to my department."
His three detectives nodded vigorously.
Tony took a swallow of beer while considering how to answer. "Thanks a lot, Chief," he said, "but I've had my experiences on local police forces, and, frankly, I like it just fine at NCIS."
When Gibbs and DiNozzo reached the Bullard home an hour and a half later, they found Neva anxiously awaiting their arrival with her children and the Pellegrinis nearby. All but a few of their guests had left already.
"Is it over?" Neva asked.
Gibbs put his arms around her. "It's over."
While he and DiNozzo ate leftovers, they told the story of the investigation. Lance, who it was clear by now had developed a galloping case of hero worship for Tony, was hanging close to the agent.
"I guess you were right, huh?" he said to Tony. "My dad was just too good, and that's why he had to die."
The little assembly fell silent, contemplating the sad truth.
As Gibbs and DiNozzo finished their meal, Rosa Pellegrini informed them that she had made more cheesecake for their dessert and, not only that, planned to wrap up a substantial chunk of it for them to take back to Washington with them.
Gibbs smiled at her. "I doubt we'll be able to get through airport security with it, Rosa," he said. "Your cheesecake is a lethal weapon."
With a hearty laugh, the little party broke up, and Gibbs and DiNozzo accompanied the Pellegrinis back to their house for dessert and, finally, well-deserved sleep.
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