CSI:New York : Who Are You? (Don Flack/OFC fanfic)

The Arrest

Joseph Marciano's mansion was situated on Pierrepont Place within Brooklyn Heights and was closed off by a gate to those who didn't belong. Three stories high, indoor and outdoor swimming pools and a separate annexe which served as Marciano's private office space. The children's party had been in full swing when they had showed up. Marciano had been furious. Did they not know it was his kid's birthday? Couldn't they leave this until tomorrow? 

'And give you time to get rid of any evidence?' Flack had said. 'I don't think so.' 

When he knew the cops weren't going to back down he growled, 'I don't want my kids seeing this,' and Mac had stepped in and advised Marciano's wife to take the party out into the garden. She was to act as normal as possible, the last thing they needed was a group of children getting all hysterical at the sight of a few police officers, which in Mac's experience children tended to do. She had bustled the children outside, the clowns and magician quickly following and when Mac was sure the children were out of sight, the search began. 

Flack, Lindsay and Danny concentrated on the house each taking a floor, while Mac and Olivia turned the annexe inside out; looking for their murder weapon. They came up with ten. Automatics, handguns and even knives, hunting and Swiss army, were hidden in closets up out of reach for anyone such as Marciano's kids to find. 

'You're packing some serious pieces, Mr. Marciano,' Flack had said when he pulled an automatic from its hiding place at the back of a coat closet. 

'They're all legit,' Marciano huffed. 'I got licenses for all of 'em.' 

'We'll need to see them.' 

'You're not going to find anything to connect me to Victor Gerrard's murder,' he had said. 

'Let us be the judge of that,' Flack had simply replied. 

Joseph Marciano was pushing sixty. He stood around five and a half feet, was overweight with hardly a single hair on his otherwise baldhead. He was decked out in the best threads Gucci had to offer, wore a solid platinum chain around his neck and was puffing on the finest Cuban cigar, as he stood back and watched the police tear apart his home. 

'Is this really necessary?' he yelled, to which he received no response. 

Over in the annexe Mac and Olivia were finding much of the same. But as for the desired weapon that had killed Victor Gerrard - a semi-automatic rifle - there was no sign of. 

Olivia blew a lock of hair from her face and straightened up. She had just completed a search of a walk-in closet, which Marciano used as a filing room. She came out to find Mac rifling through the desk drawers. 'This guy's filing system puts ours to shame,' Olivia commented. 'No weapons in there, though. I dunno, Mac, maybe he got rid.' 

'Semi-automatic's aren't the easiest weapons to get hold of. They're expensive, too. I don't see him parting company with it easy. Not unless he's part of some Columbian gun-smuggling ring. In which case, a semi-automatic could easily be replaced with another. For a price.' Mac closed up the desk drawers and moved around to the front of the desk, as he did the floorboards beneath his feet creaked. He paused, moved back a step and the floorboard made no noise. He moved forward again to the spot he had just been standing at and the board creaked. He looked at Olivia, one eyebrow lifting. 

'You're thinking what I'm thinking,' Olivia said. 

Mac applied more pressure to the floorboard beneath his right foot. The squeaking got worse. He hunkered down and pushed down on the board with his palm. Sure enough, the board was very loose, as if it had recently been lifted. 'We need something to lift this board,' he said trying to lift one end and prise it up with his fingers. 

'Times like this a girl wishes she packed a crowbar,' Olivia said, as she looked around for something to lift the board with. There was a letter opener on the desk, but it wasn't strong enough and no doubt would only snap under the pressure. 

Mac persevered with the board, it was slowly beginning to loosen, but he really needed something long and thin enough to slide into the gap. Had to be fairly strong too, to be able to pry the board up. Olivia disappeared into the room next door and moments later came back holding a brass toasting fork. 

'How about this?' she said handing it to Mac. 

'It's thin and solid brass so it should be strong enough,' he said taking the fork from her. He inserted the prongs into the gap between the floorboards and with one hard bang, the board lifted with ease. 

Olivia took the fork from him while Mac shoved one latex-gloved hand inside and felt around. Seconds later, he had something that felt like a gun box and grabbed hold, lifting it out. 

'I'm guessing that's not his secret stash of marshmallows,' Olivia said. 

Mac smiled up at her, and then lifted the box lid. Sure enough, there inside was a semi-automatic rifle. He took it out of the box and checked the clip. There were six rounds, but only five were intact. He turned the gun around and examined the barrel. There was gunpowder residue on the tip and what looked like slight traces of dried blood. A faint smug smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he lifted his head and met Olivia's eyes. 

'This gun's been fired recently,' he said. 

Olivia nodded, her smug smile matching his. 'Looks like where Mr. Marciano's headed he won't be toasting marshmallows for quite some time to come.' 

Case closed. 

End of Part 1.

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 COPYRIGHT. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DebraJay. 2006