writers muses - revelation
Catherine had been over it time after time, over and over as if something would immediately jump off the paper and save her from the consideration of moving it to the cold case vaults. It had been over two months and every lead she may have thought she had, dissolved just as quickly as it surfaced.
She was exhausted, upset and bordering defeat over letting this case get to her. Maybe it was the fact that there were so many holes that just couldn't be filled, questions that couldn't be answered. She did everything in perfect order and even tried to think like her attacker, but to no avail. There was a part of Ziyah Ambrogio's life that was so mysterious and so deeply hidden that nothing that her training and twenty years experience as a crime scene investigator could aid in uncovering the truth.
She had called in her old friend and colleague, Gil, for advice, went over the trace and other evidence hundreds of times and lost sleep over sweeping the scene over and over in her head. Nothing was coming together and this both unnerved and frustrated her. Catherine wanted nothing more than to give Tommy Karras answers, but the leads always came short of them.
When she recieved a phone call from Greg DiMarco, a tattooist from the East Village in Manhattan, to say he needed to meet with her that she began to wonder if there was a chance that her case would stay warm just a little longer.
"Mr. DiMarco?" Jim asked, flashing his badge quickly before Catherine extended a hand. "Jim Brass, LVPD. This is Catherine Willows."
Greg opened the door wider, taking her hand in a chaste shake before inviting them in.
"I wish I could say it was nice to meet you, but I never wanted to come to Vegas under these circumstances." the bald Italian spoke with his back turned to them. "And to think that only three days before I got the call telling me she was dead, she was begging me to come meet her guy and their new baby."
"I'm sorry for your loss, Mr.."
"Greg, just call me Greg." he interupted, pulling a chair out for her to sit down in.
"Greg." she nodded, taking the seat before laying a folder down in her lap. "So, you must have something pretty big to share with us to fly across the country to do it in person rather then over the phone."
He looked at her thoughtfully, nodding slowly. "I think you missed something. It might not be that big of a deal, but it's a big deal to me. I know that womans body. Every dimple, every scar, every birthmark. I'm the one that did every tattoo on her body and for my own peace of mind, I need to see her body to believe she's really dead, cause I'm sorry..I don't believe she is."
Catherine's face remained serious, her eyes squinting curiously.
"Ziyah was strong, a new completely new breed of strong. No one fucked with her, not in New York at least and yeah she had enemies, but who the hell doesn't these days. I'm tellin ya that woman wouldn't have gone down without tearing the bastards eyes out in the process. She would have shed his blood."
"So, tell me what you know." Catherine stated simply, fearful that the thud in her chest would give way to her anxiousness in hearing what he had to say.
"Not until you show me the crime scene pictures and autopsy reports."
"I'm not sure what you will get out of them. We've processed the scene quite a number of times. The blood, the trace evidence, it all points to it being her, Greg." she spoke, sure that there was no question of who the victim was.
She stared at him for what seemed a few minutes, then relented and opened the folder in front of her, retrieving the pictures before laying them out on the table in a lineup. Greg swallowed hard, showing he wasn't the least bit prepared for the images. One by one, he scanned the pictures, then picked up the last that showed a front shot of the victim and simply nodded before dropping it in a spin back down onto the table. His finger pressed down to the angels face that adorned the womans stomach.
Catherine followed his finger back up to face, waiting for the explaination.
"I spent 6 hours on this tattoo..." he moved away, bending down by the side of the bed to retrieve his portfolio. Opening it, he slid a photo out and dropped it beside the one he just had his finger on. In the photo was Ziyah laying on her back showcasing her new angelic tattoo, still bright black and moist with Greg posing beside her, both smiling ecstatically. "She wanted the eyes closed. Not open."
Catherine gazed up at him. This was the lead she needed, the one that broke it all wide open. "Are you sure?"
Greg nodded fiercely, then pointed back at the portraits. "That woman is not Ziyah."
She was exhausted, upset and bordering defeat over letting this case get to her. Maybe it was the fact that there were so many holes that just couldn't be filled, questions that couldn't be answered. She did everything in perfect order and even tried to think like her attacker, but to no avail. There was a part of Ziyah Ambrogio's life that was so mysterious and so deeply hidden that nothing that her training and twenty years experience as a crime scene investigator could aid in uncovering the truth.
She had called in her old friend and colleague, Gil, for advice, went over the trace and other evidence hundreds of times and lost sleep over sweeping the scene over and over in her head. Nothing was coming together and this both unnerved and frustrated her. Catherine wanted nothing more than to give Tommy Karras answers, but the leads always came short of them.
When she recieved a phone call from Greg DiMarco, a tattooist from the East Village in Manhattan, to say he needed to meet with her that she began to wonder if there was a chance that her case would stay warm just a little longer.
"Mr. DiMarco?" Jim asked, flashing his badge quickly before Catherine extended a hand. "Jim Brass, LVPD. This is Catherine Willows."
Greg opened the door wider, taking her hand in a chaste shake before inviting them in.
"I wish I could say it was nice to meet you, but I never wanted to come to Vegas under these circumstances." the bald Italian spoke with his back turned to them. "And to think that only three days before I got the call telling me she was dead, she was begging me to come meet her guy and their new baby."
"I'm sorry for your loss, Mr.."
"Greg, just call me Greg." he interupted, pulling a chair out for her to sit down in.
"Greg." she nodded, taking the seat before laying a folder down in her lap. "So, you must have something pretty big to share with us to fly across the country to do it in person rather then over the phone."
He looked at her thoughtfully, nodding slowly. "I think you missed something. It might not be that big of a deal, but it's a big deal to me. I know that womans body. Every dimple, every scar, every birthmark. I'm the one that did every tattoo on her body and for my own peace of mind, I need to see her body to believe she's really dead, cause I'm sorry..I don't believe she is."
Catherine's face remained serious, her eyes squinting curiously.
"Ziyah was strong, a new completely new breed of strong. No one fucked with her, not in New York at least and yeah she had enemies, but who the hell doesn't these days. I'm tellin ya that woman wouldn't have gone down without tearing the bastards eyes out in the process. She would have shed his blood."
"So, tell me what you know." Catherine stated simply, fearful that the thud in her chest would give way to her anxiousness in hearing what he had to say.
"Not until you show me the crime scene pictures and autopsy reports."
"I'm not sure what you will get out of them. We've processed the scene quite a number of times. The blood, the trace evidence, it all points to it being her, Greg." she spoke, sure that there was no question of who the victim was.
She stared at him for what seemed a few minutes, then relented and opened the folder in front of her, retrieving the pictures before laying them out on the table in a lineup. Greg swallowed hard, showing he wasn't the least bit prepared for the images. One by one, he scanned the pictures, then picked up the last that showed a front shot of the victim and simply nodded before dropping it in a spin back down onto the table. His finger pressed down to the angels face that adorned the womans stomach.
Catherine followed his finger back up to face, waiting for the explaination.
"I spent 6 hours on this tattoo..." he moved away, bending down by the side of the bed to retrieve his portfolio. Opening it, he slid a photo out and dropped it beside the one he just had his finger on. In the photo was Ziyah laying on her back showcasing her new angelic tattoo, still bright black and moist with Greg posing beside her, both smiling ecstatically. "She wanted the eyes closed. Not open."
Catherine gazed up at him. This was the lead she needed, the one that broke it all wide open. "Are you sure?"
Greg nodded fiercely, then pointed back at the portraits. "That woman is not Ziyah."