A Wish I'd said that for Chocobelle
Title :No second chances
Genre: NCIS, Death in Paradise
Rating: G
Word count: 1174
Prompts: No amount of money ever bought a second of time - Tony Stark (her prompt)
A crime has been committed, and the only clues left behind are a blue sock and a copy of "Moby-Dick." (My prompt)
My thanks to
chocobell1212 for her quote and for being patient. My thanks to a_boleyn for her beta help (Sparky wasn't feeling up to it).
Also, my profound thanks to everyone who played along. I couldn't have done it without you!
It was not the sort of crime scene Gibbs liked. He preferred them straight forward, a body he could send off to Ducky and Palmer, tests that Abbie could run, and names that his team could work with. Instead, he traveled nearly two thousand miles for a blue sock and a copy of Moby Dick.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” he muttered, picking up the book. He turned it over in his hands as if searching for a secret switch that would pop open and provide a clue. He ignored the sweat that trickled down the side of his face and the enticing crash of nearby waves.
“I guess you could read it, but I wouldn’t advise it.” Anthony DiNozzo was peeling off his latex gloves. “The place is clean… with the exception of that.” He pointed to a lizard that was glaring at them from a beam.
“It’s a gecko, Tony,” McGee said, straightening up from his search from beneath the bed. “You want them. They eat the cockroaches.” The stricken look on Tony’s face made him laugh.
“Cockroaches? They have them, too?”
“Focus, gentlemen,” Gibbs snapped. “Why are we here?”
“That’s… that’s a very good... um, good question, and one I could ask you as well.” The speaker was a tall, sandy-haired man. He was conservatively dressed in a rumpled sort of way. Gibbs pointed to the open door.
“Out, whoever you are! This is a crime scene.”
“This is my home. I live here. He reached into his jacket pocket slowly and pulled out a wallet, flipping it open with a practiced hand. “I’m DI Humphrey Goodman. I’m in charge of the local police force.”
“DI?” DiNozzo looked confused and murmured to McGee.
“Detective Inspector,” McGee answered.
“Yes, well, I can understand a crime scene,” Goodman said, gesturing expansively, nearly knocking over a coatrack as he did. “But I don’t think it is.”
DiNozzo pointed at the gecko. “You got things.”
“His name is Harry and he is not a thing. He’s a gecko. He lives here, too.” Goodman tucked his wallet away. “Now, why are you ransacking my home and who are you?”
Gibbs flipped out his ID, annoyed that this man was holding up his investigation. He watched McGee wander away, his phone out, and knew he was doing a security check on the detective.
“NCIS.”
“N-NCIS?” Now it was Goodman’s turn to be confused.
“Naval Criminal Investigative Service.”
“Navy? Here? We’re under British rule… sort of, well half and half, mostly... on a good day, but don’t tell the Commissioner I said that...”
“We were given this address and told that we would find the answer to our investigation here.” He gestured to a battered suitcase. “We found that right where the caller said it would be, but the only thing in it was a blue sock and a copy of Moby Dick.”
Goodman clicked his tongue. “Moby Dick, there’s a nightmare waiting to happen. Have you read it?”
“No.”
“Don’t. Try one of his other works instead. He clearly had issues with whales.” Goodman peeled off his jacket and tossed it onto a rumpled bed. “Beer? Or I could make some rum thing, but, honestly, the beer is safer and it’s cold.”
“Boss?” The desperation in DiNozzo’s voice was palatable.
“Go on.” Gibbs had to admit he was at his wit’s end here. McGee had returned and nodded to his boss.
“He is who he says he is. Spotless record and a ton of convictions.”
“Wonderful. Just what I need.”
A few minutes later had the men sitting at a small table, coats and shoes off, sipping cold beer and listening to the surf.
“So you live here?” Gibbs asked the DI, who nodded and leaned back with a smile.
“A couple of years now. Came to solve an unsolvable puzzle and never left. This truly is paradise.”
After a long moment, Gibbs asked, “You like puzzles?”
Goodman grinned. “You might say it’s my specialty.”
“Boss?” McGee was hopeful. “We could use another pair of eyes. I mean, time is running out.”
“I’d give a million bucks for a bit more time,” DiNozzo admitted, his eyes softening.
“No amount of money ever bought a second of time,” Goodman said, sipping his beer.
“You an Ironman fan, too?” McGee was excited as he recognized Tony Stark’s quote.
“Just saw it a few nights ago.” Goodman pointed to his cramped living room. “We have a movie night about once a month. It was JP’s turn to pick the film.”
“JP?”
“One of my officers. You’d like him. He’s about your age.”
Gibbs stood and walked to the railing, then slammed a hand against it. “I need to know why we are here!”
“Boss, I was thinking…” DiNozzo pointed a finger at McGee. “Zip it, McComic. What did the caller say exactly?”
“That we would find what we needed here.” Gibbs scowled at the suitcase. “I do not need that.”
“Maybe not, boss, but maybe you need him.” DiNozzo pointed to Goodman.
“What. DiNozzo?”
“This is a puzzle. He solves puzzles.”
“Yes, I… I quite like them.” Goodman admitted reaching for another beer. “And I’m rather good at solving them.”
“I see what you are saying, Tony.” McKee interrupted. “What if it wasn’t the suitcase or what was inside it, but rather DI Goodman that was the help we needed?”
“Why would I need him?” Gibbs wasn’t convinced.
“We don’t have any authority here. He does,” McGee continued. “He knows the island, the people and, most importantly, the law.” He looked over at the DI. “If he’s willing, of course…”
******
“And that’s where you made your mistake, Mr. Harmon.” Goodman paused before the group of people. “Had you just remembered your sock, both of them, we would not have realized the importance of Moby Dick and its one-legged tragic hero. Murder most foul… Take him away, Dwayne.”
Gibbs, DiNozzo, and McGee sat quietly in the lobby of the hotel as the guilty party and ringmaster of an Atlantic seaboard weapons-trafficking scheme, was led away. Commissioner Selwyn Patterson stood slowly, as was his habit, and approached them. “We will have him extradited to the US in the morning. Does that satisfy you, Mr. Gibbs?” he asked, before settled his cap back upon his head.
There was a slow nod.
“That was incredible.” DiNozzo was still in awe. “How did he do that?” he asked the Commissioner.
“I wish we knew, Mr. DiNozzo. Now, if you would permit, there’s a charming little place down on the sea where I think we should retire. It is called Catherine’s. ”
“What of your men?” DiNozzo smiled at Florence. “And women?”
“Not to worry, Mr. DiNozzo, they know the way.”
“I’m still not sure how he figured the whole thing out. How did he know Mr. Harmon had one leg? He didn’t even limp.”
“I suppose you could say that he knew the game was afoot.” The Commissioner smiled slyly at the groan from Goodman. “I’ve been waiting years to use that line.”
Genre: NCIS, Death in Paradise
Rating: G
Word count: 1174
Prompts: No amount of money ever bought a second of time - Tony Stark (her prompt)
A crime has been committed, and the only clues left behind are a blue sock and a copy of "Moby-Dick." (My prompt)
My thanks to
chocobell1212 for her quote and for being patient. My thanks to a_boleyn for her beta help (Sparky wasn't feeling up to it). Also, my profound thanks to everyone who played along. I couldn't have done it without you!
It was not the sort of crime scene Gibbs liked. He preferred them straight forward, a body he could send off to Ducky and Palmer, tests that Abbie could run, and names that his team could work with. Instead, he traveled nearly two thousand miles for a blue sock and a copy of Moby Dick.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” he muttered, picking up the book. He turned it over in his hands as if searching for a secret switch that would pop open and provide a clue. He ignored the sweat that trickled down the side of his face and the enticing crash of nearby waves.
“I guess you could read it, but I wouldn’t advise it.” Anthony DiNozzo was peeling off his latex gloves. “The place is clean… with the exception of that.” He pointed to a lizard that was glaring at them from a beam.
“It’s a gecko, Tony,” McGee said, straightening up from his search from beneath the bed. “You want them. They eat the cockroaches.” The stricken look on Tony’s face made him laugh.
“Cockroaches? They have them, too?”
“Focus, gentlemen,” Gibbs snapped. “Why are we here?”
“That’s… that’s a very good... um, good question, and one I could ask you as well.” The speaker was a tall, sandy-haired man. He was conservatively dressed in a rumpled sort of way. Gibbs pointed to the open door.
“Out, whoever you are! This is a crime scene.”
“This is my home. I live here. He reached into his jacket pocket slowly and pulled out a wallet, flipping it open with a practiced hand. “I’m DI Humphrey Goodman. I’m in charge of the local police force.”
“DI?” DiNozzo looked confused and murmured to McGee.
“Detective Inspector,” McGee answered.
“Yes, well, I can understand a crime scene,” Goodman said, gesturing expansively, nearly knocking over a coatrack as he did. “But I don’t think it is.”
DiNozzo pointed at the gecko. “You got things.”
“His name is Harry and he is not a thing. He’s a gecko. He lives here, too.” Goodman tucked his wallet away. “Now, why are you ransacking my home and who are you?”
Gibbs flipped out his ID, annoyed that this man was holding up his investigation. He watched McGee wander away, his phone out, and knew he was doing a security check on the detective.
“NCIS.”
“N-NCIS?” Now it was Goodman’s turn to be confused.
“Naval Criminal Investigative Service.”
“Navy? Here? We’re under British rule… sort of, well half and half, mostly... on a good day, but don’t tell the Commissioner I said that...”
“We were given this address and told that we would find the answer to our investigation here.” He gestured to a battered suitcase. “We found that right where the caller said it would be, but the only thing in it was a blue sock and a copy of Moby Dick.”
Goodman clicked his tongue. “Moby Dick, there’s a nightmare waiting to happen. Have you read it?”
“No.”
“Don’t. Try one of his other works instead. He clearly had issues with whales.” Goodman peeled off his jacket and tossed it onto a rumpled bed. “Beer? Or I could make some rum thing, but, honestly, the beer is safer and it’s cold.”
“Boss?” The desperation in DiNozzo’s voice was palatable.
“Go on.” Gibbs had to admit he was at his wit’s end here. McGee had returned and nodded to his boss.
“He is who he says he is. Spotless record and a ton of convictions.”
“Wonderful. Just what I need.”
A few minutes later had the men sitting at a small table, coats and shoes off, sipping cold beer and listening to the surf.
“So you live here?” Gibbs asked the DI, who nodded and leaned back with a smile.
“A couple of years now. Came to solve an unsolvable puzzle and never left. This truly is paradise.”
After a long moment, Gibbs asked, “You like puzzles?”
Goodman grinned. “You might say it’s my specialty.”
“Boss?” McGee was hopeful. “We could use another pair of eyes. I mean, time is running out.”
“I’d give a million bucks for a bit more time,” DiNozzo admitted, his eyes softening.
“No amount of money ever bought a second of time,” Goodman said, sipping his beer.
“You an Ironman fan, too?” McGee was excited as he recognized Tony Stark’s quote.
“Just saw it a few nights ago.” Goodman pointed to his cramped living room. “We have a movie night about once a month. It was JP’s turn to pick the film.”
“JP?”
“One of my officers. You’d like him. He’s about your age.”
Gibbs stood and walked to the railing, then slammed a hand against it. “I need to know why we are here!”
“Boss, I was thinking…” DiNozzo pointed a finger at McGee. “Zip it, McComic. What did the caller say exactly?”
“That we would find what we needed here.” Gibbs scowled at the suitcase. “I do not need that.”
“Maybe not, boss, but maybe you need him.” DiNozzo pointed to Goodman.
“What. DiNozzo?”
“This is a puzzle. He solves puzzles.”
“Yes, I… I quite like them.” Goodman admitted reaching for another beer. “And I’m rather good at solving them.”
“I see what you are saying, Tony.” McKee interrupted. “What if it wasn’t the suitcase or what was inside it, but rather DI Goodman that was the help we needed?”
“Why would I need him?” Gibbs wasn’t convinced.
“We don’t have any authority here. He does,” McGee continued. “He knows the island, the people and, most importantly, the law.” He looked over at the DI. “If he’s willing, of course…”
******
“And that’s where you made your mistake, Mr. Harmon.” Goodman paused before the group of people. “Had you just remembered your sock, both of them, we would not have realized the importance of Moby Dick and its one-legged tragic hero. Murder most foul… Take him away, Dwayne.”
Gibbs, DiNozzo, and McGee sat quietly in the lobby of the hotel as the guilty party and ringmaster of an Atlantic seaboard weapons-trafficking scheme, was led away. Commissioner Selwyn Patterson stood slowly, as was his habit, and approached them. “We will have him extradited to the US in the morning. Does that satisfy you, Mr. Gibbs?” he asked, before settled his cap back upon his head.
There was a slow nod.
“That was incredible.” DiNozzo was still in awe. “How did he do that?” he asked the Commissioner.
“I wish we knew, Mr. DiNozzo. Now, if you would permit, there’s a charming little place down on the sea where I think we should retire. It is called Catherine’s. ”
“What of your men?” DiNozzo smiled at Florence. “And women?”
“Not to worry, Mr. DiNozzo, they know the way.”
“I’m still not sure how he figured the whole thing out. How did he know Mr. Harmon had one leg? He didn’t even limp.”
“I suppose you could say that he knew the game was afoot.” The Commissioner smiled slyly at the groan from Goodman. “I’ve been waiting years to use that line.”