Casey Watson - The Silent Witness - Part 3 of 3

‘That’s it after this one, guys,’ I said, looking across to them. ‘We’ve seen enough of the Vegas team for one night, I think.’

Tyler instinctively put a finger to his lips. I’d obviously spoken across something vital. But then he nodded. He valued his freedoms. ‘There’s only about 15 minutes left of this one, then you can watch what you want, okay?’

‘Very gracious of you, I’m sure …’ I began, but then realised my mistake. There was obviously something way more important going on on-screen. Abandoning the dress for a moment, I also listened.

I had either taken in more of this particular episode than I realised or, more likely, seen it before. Either way, the facts of the murder came straight back to me. The gist of the episode was that the team was at its wits’ end. A man had clearly killed his wife, but there was no physical evidence that placed him at the scene, and without that or a confession there could be no trial. Grissom, the lead CSI, had consequently gathered the whole team in his office.

We could now see a bunch of photographs splayed out on his desk, the visual record of a particularly tragic murder. He pointed at each photo in turn. Then, as he usually did, which was why it had become so famous, he uttered one of his most immortal phrases. ‘We need to go back and revisit the scene,’ he instructed. ‘The truth is there. We just have to find it.’

I rolled my eyes. It was just so formulaic. This, of course, was where they would all troop back and do exactly that, and suddenly ‘see’ something that had completely eluded them before.

And that was, predictably, exactly what happened. And as the case was closed and the culprit put behind bars, I laughed. ‘I bet you two could have solved that way before they did,’ I said.

‘Course I could’ve,’ Tyler said. ‘I’m the don at detecting.’

I wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by that – new words popped out of his mouth all the time these days, but while I laughed I became aware that Bella wasn’t. She was still staring at the screen, in fact, watching the credits scrolling, and it occurred to me that, however much she professed to enjoy it, perhaps CSI was a bit close to the bone for her.

‘Turn it over, Ty,’ I said, nodding at the remote. ‘The news is just about to start and I want to catch it.’

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