Binding Ties by Max Allan Collins

slack, because Vince was long retired before you even started at the
Banner
. Dave,
you
know better. Vince was
always
a good cop.He never did anything to jeopardize an investigation, not on
any
case!”
    Grissom said blandly, “But, of course, we’ll be talking to him next. You’re quite right to put him on the suspect list.”
    Brass turned sharply toward the CSI.
    â€œThis is a murder investigation like any other,” Grissom was saying. “We’ll talk to anyone and everyone we think can help us. For example, there are easily half a dozen others in the department who might have had access to the withheld information about CASt’s full M.O.”
    â€œThat’s right!” Paquette said, with a snap of his fingers. To Jim he said, “Who did you report to, you and Champlain?”
    â€œThe sheriff at the time,” Brass said. “Who is now deceased.”
    Bell said, “What about Conrad Ecklie? He was the dayshift CSI supervisor. He knew!”
    Grissom said, “We’ll talk to him.”
    Knowing how much Ecklie and Grissom hated each other, Brass thought to himself:
Someone will talk to Conrad, but it won’t be Gil
….
    Brass said, “Search your memories, guys. I confided in Grissom, here—he did only incidental work on the original case. Maybe you confided in somebody, too, and it’s slipped your mind…. Anyway, think about it.”
    The newspaper guys lapsed into silence.
    â€œI can assure you,” Brass said, “we’re going to turn over every rock we can.”
    Paquette and Bell both flashed glares his way.
    â€œSorry … I didn’t mean it to sound quite like that…. I just mean that we’re going to do everything we can to catch this guy, and quick. If it is CASt, we all know what he’s capable of. If he’s decided to repeat his cycle, we could be looking at four more victims….”
    â€œJesus,” Brower said.
    â€œIf it’s a newcomer with a similar M.O …” Brass let that hang in the air for a few seconds, before he added, “We don’t wanna go there till we have to … but either way, we’ve got to catch this guy, and fast. Look, I know it’s a big story, but we need, at the outset anyway, to control it.”
    Bell glanced at his two cohorts, who both gave him slight nods, the three of them somehow communicating silently.
    Then the reporter said, “Whatever you need, Jim, you let us know. We’ll help any way we can.”
    â€œThanks.”
    â€œBut,” Paquette added, shaking a forefinger, “we get that twenty-four-hour lead, remember.”
    Brass nodded and Grissom said, “That much we can do.”
    The Elvis waiter was singing “Jailhouse Rock” when Brass and Grissom headed out.

    Vince Champlain and his second wife occupied an independent living apartment at the Sunny Day Continuing Care Facility in Henderson.
    A guard stopped Brass and Grissom at the gate and checked their credentials and wrote their names on his clipboard. Brass and Grissom were familiar with Sunny Day since Catherine and Warrick had worked a case recently concerning murdered patients in the continuous care wing.
    Not far from Lake Mead Drive, Sunny Day offered independent living apartments in a building at the left end, and various levels of escalating care in a high-rise at the right end. For the geriatric set, Sunny Day was the living end, or the end of living, depending on which building you occupied.
    Brass turned the Taurus to the left and found a parking place not far from the entrance. The Champlains were on the third floor, and—Brass having called ahead—the visit was expected. In fact, when Grissom and Brass exited the elevator and started down the hall, a petite blonde stuck her head out from a door and waved eagerly.
    â€œJimmy!” she practically squealed. Her expression was joyous.
    Grissom gave Brass a sideways look and