Brass smiled with what might have been patience but wasn't. "Why don't you think carefully and give this to me in more detail? A lot more."
Grunick sighed, which was the first indication the young man was capable of an emotional response; he looked skyward, as if referring to notes in the air.
Finally he said, "We sat through the service, took the casket out, loaded it in the hearse, went to the cemetery, had the committal service there, and the casket was interred. The end. Literally."
Brass's eyes narrowed. "You were with the coffin for every second?"
"Yes-that is why it's impossible…."
Brass tossed a picture of Kathy Dean in the coffin onto the table in front of the interview subject. "Not impossible. It happened…and I'm asking you again. Think hard. Were…you…with…the…coffin…every…second?"
His brow knit as he indeed thought about it. Then the color drained from Grunick's face.
"Wait," he said. "Wait a minute…I'm sorry. I am sorry."
"About…?"
Energy came into the young man's manner and his expression. "I do see how it happened…. Understand, inmost cases these days, the pallbearers are ceremonial. We're the ones that do the work, and it's always the same: After Mr. Black backs the hearse up to the door, Jimmy and I do the lifting. That one funeral, Rita Bennett, though-it didn't go down that way, not exactly."
"What did happen 'exactly,' Mark?"
"Well, Mr. Black and Jimmy were talking about something. I was leading the way, and the two of them were pushing the cart with the coffin down the hall…toward the side door? Anyway, they were blabbing and I couldn't hear about what, nor did I care…but suddenly Jimmy peeled off and went back into the chapel. And when we got to the door, Mr. Black told me he'd watch the body while I got the car."
"So Black was alone with the coffin."
"Sure, which means he was alone with the body. And I'll bet that's when the switch went down!"
Brass nodded now, playing along as the guy got more into it. "What happened, Mark, when you came back with the hearse?"
"Well, we loaded the coffin in the hearse."
"Who did?"
"Jimmy and me."
"Where was Mr. Black?"
Mark Grunick shrugged. "I'm not really sure. Maybe in the limo, already…didn't think about it then. Jimmy was there, and him and me loaded the body. Things were, you know, back to normal."
"When do you remember seeing Black again?"
"Oh, well, by the time the procession was ready to leave, Mr. Black was behind the wheel of the limo. Jimmy and me, we were in the hearse."
In the observation booth, Grissom heard the door behind him open and he looked back at a grave Nick, in the doorway. The younger CSI gestured for Grissom to join him out in the hall.
"Something, Nick?"
"Something, all right. I fingerprinted Black."
"Good."
"Then I compared his prints to the ones we had from the coffin? His prints are on the casket Kathy Dean was in."
"Also good. If to be expected."
"Well, maybe that is. But I lifted prints off the gun-"
"Really? You got prints off the gun? Unusual."
Nick shrugged. "Being packed away in that box, all those smaller boxes on top of it, kept the gun cool and safe from the weather. Desert Haven's garage being air-conditioned didn't hurt, either."
"So," Grissom said, "is that the unexpected development?"
"Not really." Nick's expression was apologetic. "I printed Black, and his prints don't match the ones on the gun. Indicates Black is not the shooter."
"Well."
"And the hairs found in the casket with Kathy? Not the undertaker's either. Sorry."
Grissom shook his head, then said, "Never apologize for the evidence, Nick. We listen to it, it doesn't listen to us."
Nick said, "Well if it did, it'd hear me saying, 'Huh?' "
"Is the weapon with the firearms examiner?"
"Yeah, I dropped it off. We haven't confirmed it as the murder weapon yet, though the caliber is right."
"One step at a time," Grissom said. "Now, here's what I want you to do next…."
He laid out a plan and Nick nodded, and went off to carry it out. Grissom was about to head back in to the observation booth for the rest of the Grunick interview when his cell phone chirped.
"Grissom."
"It's Sara. Got the results of the DNA tests-Dustin Black is the father of Kathy Dean's baby."
"Not really a surprise."
"And I finally tracked down Janie Glover. Off to interview her now."
"Janie Glover? Remind me."
"Kathy Dean's friend…who told our Habinero's waitress about 'FB'?"
"Ah. Good."
"Is Black looking more guilty, or less?"
"Too early."
They rang off.
As he turned back toward the booth, the interview-room door opened and Mark Grunick filed out, followed by Brass. A free man, the slightly shell-shocked-looking Grunick kept going, while Brass fell in alongside Grissom.
"Well," Brass said cheerfully, "young Mr. Grunick seems to like his boss for the body switch. And so do I."
"Don't get ahead of yourself, Jim."
Exasperated, Brass invited the CSI supervisor into the observation booth so their discussion wouldn't be in front of the whole world.
Forcefully, the detective pointed out, "The murder weapon was found in Black's place of business."
"We haven't confirmed that it's the murder weapon."
"It's the right caliber, it's been fired…."
"Probably is the murder weapon. Probably isn't enough. We'll know soon."
"For the sake of argument, then. Say it's the murder weapon."
"All right," Grissom said. "Let's say it is."
"Now we're getting somewhere…."
"Black's fingerprints weren't on it."
Brass's eyes popped. "What…? Well, then Black wore gloves, or wiped it clean."
"Someone else's prints are on the gun."
"Who in hell's?"
Grissom shrugged. "We don't know yet. May I make a suggestion?"
"Please!"
"Get the prints from the other mortician's assistant-Doyle."
Brass's eyes narrowed. "What about the other assistant-Grunick?"
"I posted Nick up around the corner-waiting to bump into Mr. Grunick, as he exits. My guess is when they separate, Nick will have some helpful fingerprints."
Finally Brass seemed to like something Grissom had said. "Sneaky," he said with admiration.
"And if Black is innocent," Grissom said, "these two are our next most likely suspects. They're the only other ones who had access to Rita Bennett's casket."
"Makes sense."
"And Kathy Dean was seeing a younger man, in addition to Black-the assistants are in that age range."
"Now you're talking…."
"If one of them's the killer, Jim, we can't put too much stock in what they individually have to say in interview. We can't expect either one to be cooperative or honest, when it comes to helping us catch him."
"One should be telling the truth…."
"Right. Not to tell a skilled interrogator what to be looking for, but inconsistencies between Grunick's interview and young Doyle's could be…helpful."
Brass's cell phone rang. "Brass…Yeah, all right, interview room one." He hung up. "Doyle's here," he said.
As if those words were the starting gun, Grissom dashed off, leaving Brass wondering what the hell that was about. In the breakroom, the CSI got a can of soda out of the fridge; he wiped it down with a towel and held it gingerly by the top edges and took it to the interrogation room, where Brass was waiting for Doyle to come in.
"For me?" Brass said, looking at the soda can. "I didn't think you cared."