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“DiNozzo.”
“ Hnnmmnn. ” DiNozzo rolled over on his desk, refusing to open his eyes.
“DiNozzo!” Gibbs slammed both his hands on said desk, causing its occupant to jump upright in his seat. “Did you sleep here last night?”
Tony DiNozzo rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and staggered to his feet. “Uh, maybe, boss.”
“Well, I sure hope it was restful. We’ve got a dead Marine and you’re driving.” Gibbs tossed the keys to DiNozzo, which he sleepily managed to catch, and by the time he had configured them in his hands, his boss was already standing in front of the elevator with Ziva, and Timothy McGee waited at the end of the partition to the squad room.
“What were you doing here all night, sleepyhead?” McGee asked as the two walked to the elevator to join Gibbs and Ziva.
“None of your business, McNosy Neighbor.”
“I’ll buy you a coffee if you tell me.”
“I was working. Also, I downloaded a bunch of Beatles albums on iTunes and was jamming out to them, you know? Must have fallen asleep to it.”
“Yeah, I know, DiNozzo. It was still playing when I found you here this morning. I took it upon myself to turn it off so the boss wouldn’t find you listening to music in the office. You’re welcome.”
“Noted and appreciated.”
*
The team arrived at the apartment of who was formerly PFC Joan Banks about thirty minutes after their departure from the Navy Yard. Local police were already there; the chief explained the situation to Gibbs and passed the case over to him. Inside the apartment, Ducky and Jimmy were already examining the body; it had collapsed in front of the bathroom sink, and congealed blood surrounded Joan’s head. She had a haircut not unlike Velma’s, and a framed photo of Nietzche hung above the toilet. Tony and McGee went over to speak with the two medical examiners. “Hey, Ducky,” Tony said. “What do you got?”
“Good morning, Anthony. You look tired.”
“He doesn’t want to talk about it,” McGee said.
“Well. Cause of death is blunt-force trauma to the back of the head, and she appears to have died around eight P.M. last night. I’m unsure of what the weapon could have been, but we’ll know that once I have Abigail run some tests.”
McGee scribbled some notes in his pad. “Thanks, Ducky. Tony, why don’t you and Ziva check the rest of the apartment? I’m going to go back outside and talk to the local officers some more.”
“Got it.” Tony found Ziva in the living room; she was looking at the several whiteboards positioned around it.
“Tony. This is probably not too relevant, but it seems like Banks studied psychology as a hobby.”
Tony stepped closer to the whiteboards and read them for himself; there were several names he recognized, including Aristotle, Kant, and John Locke. “Philosophy, Ziva.”
“Philosophy?”
“The study of the fundamental nature of existence. Psychology is the study of the human mind.”
“Oh, yes. Philosophy.”
Tony was silent for a moment. “Actually, looking more closely at this, it seems more like pataphysics.”
“Pataphysics?”
“It’s similar to philosophy, but it deals more with imaginary problems and solutions. In a nutshell, it’s ridiculous. I barely understand it, I just know the word. Can’t think of where from.”
“I will make a note of that. It may not seem relevant, but it could be useful to know.”
“Good idea.”
Gibbs came up behind them. “Hmm. Looks like Joan had a side hobby.”
“Pataphysics.”
“I don’t know what that is, and I don’t care. As long as you know and can put it in the report. We’ve seen just about everything here, and I found Joan’s cell phone for McGee to run her call history when we get back. Let’s go.”
*
Back at the office, McGee had run her call history and was presenting his report to Gibbs and Tony. “Banks’ last four calls were to or from a guy named Maxwell Edison. I’m running the name.”
“...Maxwell Edison?” Tony mumbled to himself.
“I listened to the recordings. Looks like Edison invited her to see a movie. The last call was a few minutes before she died. Incoming from Edison, asking if she was ready to go. She told him ten more minutes and hung up.”
A ding came from McGee’s computer. “Found Edison.” He brought up Edison’s information on the big screen. “He’s a Marine doctor who went to boot camp with Banks.”
“Ah, young love between comrades,” Tony said. Gibbs smacked him upside the head. “Ow!”
“McGee, run a full background check. Ziva, we’re going over to Edison’s place. Tony, go talk to Abby, see if she’s found anything useful.”
“On it.”
Tony poured himself a long-overdue cup of coffee and got in the elevator. He was greeted immediately by Abby, who was far too cheerful for Tony and his lack of caffeination to deal with. “Tony Tony Tony! Come in here quick, I know what the weapon is-- Jesus, you look tired. Didn’t sleep well last night?”
Dinozzo just stared at her.
“Don’t do that. You look like Gibbs. Cup of coffee and everything. It’s weird.”
“What’s the weapon?” Tony took a long sip of his coffee.
“Okay, so. Ducky looked at the shape of the indent the weapon made, and I ran tests on Joan’s blood and a strand of her hair from the point of impact. The answer seems to be obvious.”
“What is the answer, Abby?”
“What’s gotten into you?”
“I slept at my desk.”
“Why?”
“I don’t fucking know.”
“Sorry to hear that. Anyway, the weapon appears to be a silver hammer. The shape of the hammer is very close to that of a mallet, but mallets are usually rubber, so I feel like the word ‘hammer’ is better. It’s big, heavy, and you can kill someone with it--”
“Thanks, Abby. I’ll call Gibbs.” DiNozzo turned around and walked back towards the elevator.
“Um, you’re welcome! See you!”
In the elevator, Tony slammed the switch to shut it off. “...Silver hammer?” After another swig of coffee, he started it back up.
*
Upstairs, McGee called Tony over to his desk. “Hey, Tony, I think I found something important.”
“What’s up, McGenius?”
“When Edison was in grade school, he was the last person to see one of his teachers alive. She had kept him back for detention, and he asked to use the bathroom. When he came back, she was dead.”
“McGee, does any of this sound familiar to you?”
“No. Why?”
“...No reason. Keep going.”
“Anyway, I pulled up the case file just to check. The cause of death was blunt force trauma to the back of the head, and they found microscopic silver particles in her hair.”
Tony’s eyes widened, and he dropped his coffee on the floor.
“What?”
“That’s what Abby found in Banks’ hair.” Tony grabbed his phone and frantically dialed Gibbs’ number. “We’ve gotta bring this guy in.”
*
Edison stood in the holding room, staring directly into the one-way window and somehow making eye contact with Tony. “This guy’s weird,” Tony remarked.
Gibbs ignored his statement. “This is your guy. Go get a confession out of him. I’ll be in here.”
“Got it.”
Tony entered the room carrying several folders. “Good afternoon, Sergeant Edison. How are you today?”
No response. Tony sat down at the table and placed the folders on it. “You wanna sit down? Want some coffee?”
Still no response. Edison did not sit down.
“Okay, I have a few questions. You were already told that your friend PFC Joan Banks was killed last night. Now, I’m not accusing you, but it’s my job to ask, where were you last night between the hours of seven and nine P.M.?”
Silence.
Tony opened the folders and spread out two pictures. “Do these faces look familiar to you?”
Nothing. Edison began to circle the table, not even glancing at the images.
“These are pictures of both Banks and your third grade teacher, whose murder you witnessed, correct?”
Not a sound save the steady pattering of Edison’s feet.
“I’ve gotta say, looking at these two pictures, I can kinda see a similarity in the way these two women were killed.” Tony stood up, his eyes following Edison around the room. “So, Edison, do you wanna tell me where you were between the hours of seven and nine P.M. last night?”
Edison suddenly stopped behind Tony, who froze and slowly turned around to see Edison raising a silver hammer. With eyes wide, Tony said, “Oh my God. Maxwell’s Silver Hammer.”
As the words were leaving his lips, Maxwell’s silver hammer came down upon his head--
*
“ DiNozzo! ”
Gibbs slammed his hands on the aforementioned, sleeping man's desk. Tony bounced up, gasping for air; he was so startled that he took his chair with him to the ground. McGee stood over him, chuckling. “Not. Funny,” Tony seethed.
“Hope that fall didn’t hurt you too much. Dead sailor in Arlington. You’re driving. Let’s go.” Gibbs tossed Tony the keys; they landed on his face.
McGee helped Tony up. “McGee, can you dump a bucket of ice on my head so I can be sure I’m actually awake?”
“I’ll grab a bag of ice at the gas station,” McGee said sarcastically. “What were you doing here all night, sleepyhead? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Please, for the love of God, do not ask.”
“Okay. I made you some coffee.”
“Thank you.” Tony took the coffee and downed it in one gulp.
“You fell asleep listening to music. I took it upon myself to turn it off so the boss wouldn’t know. You’re welcome.”
Tony turned to give McGee an exasperated look.
“Maxwell’s Silver Hammer by the Beatles on repeat? Is everything okay at home?”
“McGee?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut the fuck up.”