Author: Merrianna

Series: Sacrifices to Lady Justice: 4 of ?

Disclaimer: I don't in any way own the series CSI: NY. Those are the sole property of Anthony E. Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer, CBS and Paramount Home Entertainment.

Coming off the elevator, Mac already looked as if he'd been through a double shift, and the day was only half over. Sid's autopsy had led to no new information though it did confirm some aspects to this most recent case. The investigator had hoped that their murderer would have slipped up and left a bit of himself on the body, however.

The only lead they had at the moment was the identity of the victim, unlike the last time. However, this didn't narrow down the list of potential suspects by much. Don had gotten a list of Anthony Spinadelli's 'employees' from the patrolman who had initially identified the body. There was some anticipation that they would now also be able to place a name to their Jane Doe.

Walking down the hall, Mac could see that Danny was already in the trace lab, sifting through what was found at the latest crime scene. The papers that were recovered would be examined later when the night shift came in. There would be less people around who would question the reasoning: it wasn't normal procedure to put their best piece of evidence last, but it wasn't against the rules either.

Mac slipped into the lab, taking off his jacket and replacing it with a white lab coat. Reaching inside the coat's pocket, he retrieved a pair of surgical gloves and expertly slid them on. "Got anything, Danny?"

Glasses perched on his forehead, Danny looked up from the fibers he was scrutinizing under a microscope. His blue eyes had a weary look about them and his face was etched in frustration. "I've got something alright. It's called 'neck strain'."

Mac gave the younger man a stern look.

"Sorry, Mac. It’s just that it feels like we're hitting our heads on a brick wall. When I think I've got something, it twists around and becomes nothing. Zip. Nothing of the perp on or near the crime scene; everything belongs only to the vics." Danny jammed his glasses back on his face.

"Well, if we can't find anything on the killer then let's find out everything on our victims. These murders aren't just random. I'd say that they might also be personal."

Danny nodded, considering what the ex-Marine said.

For another hour and a half they worked at finding out everything they could about their victims: what fibers they found on the bodies, the type of materials that they seemed to wear, the condition of the bodies, and what they might have been like. Both were healthy, which was surprising for the female prostitute. The two vics had dental work but none that looked recent. The female wore expensive nail polish, dyed her hair with high-end hair products, and had multiple piercings on her ears. The man had the same. There were also discolorations on the fingers and wrists of both individuals, which made it appear that they had worn watches and many rings. The two investigators found a great deal about their victims, except what connected the two, aside from the profession. One was a prostitute whereas the other was a dealer in flesh.

The sound of an incessant ringing almost echoed in the trace lab. Danny and Mac both looked to their own phones. It was Mac's that was ringing; with a quick flick of a thumb over the buttons he brought the device to his ear. "Taylor."

"Okay. I'll be right there," Mac said as he moved toward the door. Putting away his phone he discarded his gloves and removed his lab coat. "Don was able to locate one of Mr. Spinadelli's 'employee's'. He has her in interrogation room one," Mac explained at Danny's inquisitive expression.

Danny looked at his work, "I'd like to come along."

Mac studied the other man for a moment then nodded, putting on his suit jacket.

Don gazed across the interview table at the lady, Miss Joanna O’Bryan. She’d been able identify their Jane Doe as Miranda Sinclair, a woman in her early twenties who'd been in the business for three years. Miss O’Bryan was unlike many of the prostitutes that Don had run across over the years. She was polished from head to toe. There weren't the over done make-up, perfume, or sex-me-look that most of her profession had. Thinking back to their victim, Miss Sinclair, he noted that she had also been devoid of the overabundance of cosmetics.

Mac walked in with two files; "Detective Mac Taylor."

"Pleasure to meet you," purred the coppery red-head with a barely discernable Bronx accent. Her eyes glinted with pleasure at the attention of two attractive men.

From the periphery of Don's eye, he could see Mac's closed-off expression; it was that look that set many criminals on edge, and which also had been a permanent fixture up until the last year and a half.

"Miss O’Bryan, you have identified Miranda Sinclair and Anthony Spinadelli?" The Crime Lab Supervisor wasn't wasting any time on this one. He wanted answers... something to connect these people to the murderer and possibly a lead to his identity.

The pretty woman blinked once at the direct focus of the older man's question. "Yes."

"Is there anyone you know that would've wanted to kill them?" the question was set forth with a concise, unemotional calm.

This time Joanna didn't seem surprised by his direct question. "Miranda wasn't a very combative person. Most people liked her, even in our profession. The only thing I can think of is that she liked playing a bit on the wild side."

"The wild side?" Don interrupted.

"Yeah, the way that Tony had set up our meetings was tame. You go to the hotel room and after an agreed amount of time you leave. You didn't even see the money until later. Miranda often said it was great for money but no fun. She liked to spice up her nights by taking in tricks from the streets. But she was always on time for the real job." Joanna made it all sound very business-like.

"Did Mr. Spinadelli know about these extracurricular activities?" Mac asked.

The red-headed woman sat for a moment in thought. "No. No, I don't think he knew. If he had, he would've been very agitated. He didn't like if we went out on our own. He was a very greedy man but good at getting clients of the high-paying sort."

"And Mr. Spinadelli, did he have any enemies that you know of?" the impatience could barely be heard in the crime lab supervisor's voice.

Again the woman thought the question over carefully. "Tony was very careful to not make enemies. But a man like him had at least a couple. Some were clients who thought they didn't get what they paid for. One of the girls left after an altercation."

"Do you know the names of these clients and the girl?" Don had his notebook ready to take down the names and possible addresses.

"The clients, no. The young woman went by," Joanna was hesitant to get involved and reluctantly gave the woman's name, "...Jazz Evergreen."

"Thank you, Miss O’Bryan. If you can think of anything else... Contact us." Mac drew a card out of his pocket, passing it across the table to the red-head.

"So, I can go now?" there was relief on her face and in her voice.

"Yeah." Don said absently.

Danny watched through the one-way mirror of the observation room as Mac and Don questioned one of 'Tony the Easy's' ladies.

From where Danny was standing, there was little that the woman was saying that they could go on. The extras were too varied to offer anything to narrow down the suspect list, not that they really had a list yet. Miranda liked to play on the fast side and the Pimp had an aggressive streak to keep money flowing only through his hands.

As the woman walked out of the interrogation room, Danny sauntered in. "Now what do we do?"

"You'll go back to the lab while Flack and I visit Mr. Spinadelli’s residence then Miss Sinclair's."

Reaching the door, Mac stopped, turning back to the other two men. A frown was etched on his face, and he looked to be in deep thought. "One thing; Sid knows what’s going on. The man actually blackmailed me into telling him what was going on." The blue-eyed detective's voice was a mixture of amusement and a defeated sigh.

"You think he'll tell Stella?" Danny asked.

"No, I think he’s worried about her just much as the rest of us. He'll keep his promise." Though Mac had gotten an earful about how he should let Stella decide for herself if she would be able to handle it. This case was nothing like what Frankie had done to her.

Mac and Don actually detoured on their way over to Spinadelli's apartment; the apartment of the late Miranda Sinclair had been on their way, so they searched there first. The apartment was small: just a kitchenette, a living room that also served as a bedroom, and a pocket-sized bathroom, but it had everything that a woman of her profession needed: a closet and bureau full of sexy clothes, some that even Stella would have loved to have owned. During the search of the place they had found an address book, a daily planner and a diary.

The difference in the life styles of the prostitute and the pimp was glaring. Mr. Spinadelli's residence was a large plush space with every amenity. There was a living room with a wide screen T.V. and state of the art sound system. The kitchen looked to have not been used except for storing take out and fancy beer whereas the bedroom seemed to exude the high life. Neither detective lingered but went right to work, Don following as Mac went to a spare room that looked to be the man's office. In the office was a calendar, a ledger, and an address book, most of which were in code. Mac bagged them to bring back to the lab.

Don looked around at the opulent apartment as he followed the other man to another room, which turned out to be the bedroom. "It makes you wonder, you know?"

"Wonder what?" Mac glanced back a moment before casting his light once again in the closet.

The blue-eyed detective looked back at the other man as he systematically looked through the dead man's bedroom closet, "You sure this Ploutos guy isn't doing the citizens of New York a favor in getting rid of low lives?"

Mac looked at Don surprised, "No matter that these people weren't on the right side of the law, they didn't deserve to die. Justice isn't a vigilante going out killing people and transferring some of the blame to someone else."

"I guess it just bothers me that a guy who barters in women lives like a king while others who do an honest days work live in ruins," groused Don.

The dark-haired detective return to work, "I know what you're talking about, Flack, but every civilization needs checks and balances, otherwise we succumb to chaos."

By the time they left Mr. Spinadelli's residence it was an hour before shift would end. The stuff they had found was still going to need logging in when they got back to the crime lab.

"Hey, Mac, you ready to leave?" Stella leaned against the doorjamb of Mac's office at the end of her shift.

"Actually, I have a few things that I need to go over before heading out," Mac said as he looked up from a file, shutting it as he did so.

Stella frowned, not liking the answer to her question. "And exactly what is so important that you can't get away?"

"Stella, I have a few more things to go over with Danny and Flack before leaving tonight." His calm demeanor gave nothing away.

Stella stepped in, closing the door behind her. She could normally read her partner... lover... Just recently, though, he was a closed book. She was just insecure enough that she thought it might have something to do with her. They had both agreed to keep their relationship a secret, not wanting to go through the scrutiny of the lab or the higher-ups. The question she had earlier asked a puzzled Lindsay came back to be presented to its real target now. "Mac, are you avoiding me?"

Mac knew that an angry Stella was a bad thing, even if she was a sight to behold, but a depressed Stella was heart breaking and not something that he had ever wanted to see again. "No, I'm not avoiding you. What gave you that impression?" Mac was having a hard time not just giving in and telling Stella everything. The situation would be hard enough if they'd only been friends; it was even more difficult now that they were a couple, albeit in a covert fashion.

"Mac, in the past two weeks you've gone almost completely back to the way you were a year ago: spending nights at work, not going home, and I can tell that you've gotten very little sleep, if any." Stella was rambling and it both amused and aggravated him. He knew she was concerned, but he could tell she wasn't touching on the real reason that she was upset.

Sure he wasn't going home and was getting very little or zero sleep over this case, but that normally wouldn't bother the pretty brunette if that were all it was. In the last two weeks, he'd only briefly been over to her apartment and never for very long. He hadn't once offered for them to go to his place. She couldn't know that the reason was because of the police protection that he'd had Don put on her. The fact that they knew each other so well meant that Stella knew that he was hiding something. He'd rather not say anything to her than tell her an outright lie, but the more he dodged her questions, the harder it was getting to do just that.

"Stella, it's just been a busy couple of weeks and the restaurant case seems to be heading into the 'Serial Killer' status with this body which was found today." It was the truth, though he hadn't gone into detail.

"I can understand that, but why haven’t you pulled a few more people onto it then? Serials are a priority, but only you, Danny and Flack are working it."

"The two victims were killed in a severe manner. Lindsay... I'm not sure she's up to this just yet and I prefer to have Sheldon ready for any new incoming cases."

Stella watched her partner, trying to decipher anything that suggested something was out of the ordinary, "So what about me then. I mean it's still a little strange that you haven't pulled everyone in on this. Even to help with some of the lab work."

"Stella, there are certain aspects of this case that need to be kept contained." Mac faced Stella with a look of utter seriousness. "This case is a potential news media nightmare."

"Mac, I can handle..." She paused, blinking as her thoughts shifted as if a light had turned on. "This isn't about the news; it's about Frankie, isn't it? You don't think I can handle this case because of what happened with him? Or that it might get out."

Mac looked at Stella, dumbfound that she was able to hit very close to the mark. He was, in a way, trying to protect her like he couldn't with Frankie, but it wasn't that he thought she couldn't handle the case or the media if it came to that; it was that she was a part of it.

The agitated woman strode around Mac's desk and invaded his space, standing over him, "Mac, talk to me. What's going on? Why are you being so distant?"

Mac looked up at the beautiful woman, who was the best thing to happen to him since his wife died, and lied, "Nothing."

Stella just stared at him for a couple of minutes; she shook her head in annoyance, walking away "Fine. Fine, Mac, nothing's wrong. You know I'm just going to go home alone. Don't bother coming by or calling."

As Danny was coming from trace, Don was making his way to Mac's office from the other direction. They were both almost bowled over by an extremely irate Stella Bonasera.

"Stella," Mac called after the curly-haired woman as she stormed out of his office.

Both men looked over to the door. Mac stood with one hand on the doorjamb while the other swept agitatedly through his short dark hair.

"So, did Stella find out?" Don was brave enough to ask.

"If only," Mac mumbled, turning and walking back into his office, leaving the pair to follow if they wanted. Danny hesitantly went in behind Mac with Don drifting in right after him. It was a good thing that Stella didn't know about the case, but it was making things more awkward as time went on.

"So what do we know?" Mac asked with his back to the other two. He was gazing out his window at the skyline beyond.

"We know that Miranda was Spinadelli's employee." Danny ventured, unsure about what had happened between Mac and Stella.

"They ran in the higher echelon for a prostitute and pimp." Don continued on where Danny had left off.

Mac carried on with the round robin to air the facts out. "Both vics might have known their killer."

"The killer is versed in Greek Mythology and in the procedures of criminal investigation." Danny added.

Don gave a sick looking smirk, "He's under the delusion that Stella is a goddess come to New York to clean the streets of lawlessness or immorality."

In Danny's opinion the guy wasn't far from wrong; Stella had the strength and determination of any goddess of myth. She was a force to be reckoned with when she was on a mission; only the bravest of souls would get in her way. One of those individuals stood with his back to them at the moment; looking like he'd already gone a round with one of those legendary beasts that Hercules might have fought.

"We're still deciphering the code from Tony's calendar and ledger's; when we do there might be a couple leads. The same goes for Miranda's daily planner and diary." Mac's voice interrupted Danny's musing as the older man finally turned to face his colleagues.

"I'm still trying to track down Ms. Evergreen," Don said pessimistically.

Danny looked nervously at his boss, "I guess the question is 'will we be able to figure out who he is before he decides to kill again?'."

Mac's face was grim, "Unfortunately, Danny, I think we'll be seeing another body before this case turns in our favor."