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An Unexpected Visit: Ducky Has Something to Tell Gibbs
The familiar chime of Gibbs’ doorbell cut through the relative silence of his basement. He hadn’t been expecting anyone, least of all at this hour. The scent of sawdust and varnish clung to the air as he climbed the stairs, the low hum of his latest boat project fading behind him. He wiped his hands on his well-worn jeans and opened the door, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.
It was Ducky, his former medical examiner and longtime friend. But this wasn’t the Ducky who usually graced his porch. His normally jovial face was etched with a serious concern, his signature bow tie slightly askew.
“Jethro, forgive the unannounced visit,” Ducky began, his voice unusually subdued. “But I felt it was imperative that I speak with you… privately.”
Gibbs, ever the observant one, immediately picked up on Ducky’s demeanor. Something was definitely amiss. He gestured Ducky inside, leading him to the living room. Gibbs offered him a glass of his usual, a strong bourbon, but Ducky declined.
“No, thank you, Jethro. I need a clear head for this.” He settled into the worn armchair, his gaze fixed on his hands.
The silence stretched, thick with unspoken tension. Gibbs simply waited, knowing Ducky would speak when he was ready. Finally, Ducky took a deep breath.
“It concerns a cold case, Jethro. One that has been… bothering me for quite some time. The **Margaret Bell case**.”
Gibbs raised an eyebrow. The Margaret Bell case was old, very old. It dated back to before he was even at NCIS, during his time as a Marine. It was a local case, a Jane Doe found near the docks. He remembered hearing about it, a grim tale even then.
“I was a young medical resident at the time,” Ducky continued, his voice laced with a hint of regret. “And while I performed the initial autopsy, I was… inexperienced. I made certain assumptions, certain conclusions, that I now believe may have been incorrect.”
He paused, gathering his thoughts.
“Over the years, I’ve revisited the case files numerous times. Certain discrepancies have always troubled me. I recently obtained access to some newly digitized records, **crime scene photos** I hadn’t seen before. And…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “I believe I missed something crucial. Something that could potentially identify the victim and even… lead to a possible suspect.”
He explained that based on the new evidence, specifically a minute detail in the victim’s clothing and a previously overlooked **bone fracture**, he now suspected the victim may have been a young woman who went missing from a nearby town around the same time. Furthermore, the **cause of death**, originally ruled as drowning, might have been something else entirely.
Gibbs listened intently, his expression unreadable. He knew Ducky wouldn’t bring this to him unless he was absolutely certain. Cold cases were Gibbs’ specialty, a way to give voice to the forgotten.
“What do you need, Ducky?” Gibbs asked, his voice low.
Ducky looked up, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “I need your help, Jethro. I need you to reopen the case. To give Margaret Bell the justice she deserves. To atone for my… **oversight**.”
The silence fell again, but this time, it was different. It was a silence of understanding, of unspoken agreement. Gibbs nodded slowly.
“We’ll look into it, Ducky. We’ll see what we can find.”
Ducky let out a shaky breath, relief washing over his face. He knew that with Gibbs on the case, Margaret Bell might finally get her story told. This unexpected visit, born of decades of quiet contemplation and professional regret, had planted the seed of justice, a seed that Gibbs would nurture with his unwavering dedication.
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