♪ ♪
(sizzling)
(man whispers indistinctly)
♪ ♪
(blipping)
CROUPIER: Okay, folks.
Ball is on the wheel.
This is the last call for betting.
(indistinct chatter)
CROUPIER: We have a winner!
BRASS: Are you getting this?
Huh?
Blue plaid shirt, past posting
chocolate chips at table R49?
We gotta shut him down.
CROUPIER: Round and round she goes,
where she stops, nobody knows.
(wheel clicking, blipping)
Sir, can I help you?
Sorry, yes.
You can help me.
You have change for a penny?
(gasps)
(explosion thunders)
(people screaming, clamoring)
This is Federal, sir.
It's a bomb.
I know it's not my jurisdiction, but it is my casino.
I'm on the next plane.
(reporter speaking indistinctly)
(sirens wailing, horns blaring)
SIDLE: Hey.
Oh, great.
All right, all hands on deck on this one.
Blast circumference roughly 18 by 12.
We got three dead and several dozen injured.
So, let's-let's get on it.
All right, I'll look for bomb parts.
I'll shoot the overalls.
Henry and I will document the detonation blast area.
I'll measure, you photo.
So, uh, I know
you're applying for the directorship.
Oh.
Stage doesn't get any bigger than this, Sara.
You want this case?
Good.
It's yours.
I know this is gonna sound insensitive,
but don't you think a bomber wearing a vest
would've taken out way more people than this?
Yeah.
So, what, faulty bomb?
You put a vest on like that in a public place,
I gotta think that you're planning on taking
as many people with you as possible.
Yeah.
So, what do you think?
First blush.
Terrorism.
Why do you say that?
Vegas is terrified.
OFFICER (whispering): Let's go to the bow.
Sir?
Harbor Patrol.
I'm Officer Scinta.
These men are from San Diego PD.
I have orders to remove all trespassers.
Please show me your hands.
I'm gonna give you about two seconds to turn around,
or I'm gonna consider you a threat
and shoot you right here on this boat.
(sighs)
Shark fins.
Looks like somebody jumped a shark.
(siren wailing, horn blaring)
(siren approaches)
Well, you got here fast.
WILLOWS: FBI has its perks.
How many dead?
Three. A lot are injured.
We don't have a count.
Anyway, she's one of ours.
Her name is Romina Gonzalez.
I saw the surveillance video.
You want to talk to her now.
She was the last person to speak to the bomber
before he self-detonated.
Romina, hang in there, honey.
WILLOWS: Mrs. Gonzalez,
I'm Catherine Willows, Special Agent with the FBI.
(groans in pain)
I wasn't even supposed to work today.
I just needed the money.
I just need to ask...
can you recall your conversation you had
with the bomber?
Ah, yeah.
Those are my babies. Oh, cute.
Cubano cigars--
50 bucks a stick, right?
Could you come with me to the cage?
I just need to cash in a few chips first.
Sure.
So, he was listening to someone
on the other end of an earpiece?
FIREMAN: All right, check the fentanyl?
(gasps, groans) FIREMAN 2: Yeah.
FIREMAN: Tourniquet still in place? FIREMAN 2: It is.
My daughters' names...
are Helena and Maria.
All right.
FIREMAN 2: B.P.'s dropping.
(flat line tone sounding)
FIREMAN 2: Doctor, we need some help over here.
Romina?
Ma'am, please step back.
Start compressions.
Go ahead to the hospital, prepare for arrival.
DOCTOR: Let's start a line.
FBI Special Agent Willows.
I've been authorized by the L.A. Bureau
to take over this bomb site.
Sara!
Catherine, hey.
I am so sorry. Hey.
What a mess.
Just got in from L.A. I saw the footage on the news.
How can I help?
Well, I'm not exactly sure.
It's a conflict of interest.
Legally, I'm the owner of the Eclipse.
This building and everything in it is my responsibility.
Of course, yes. Yes, it is.
But... you and I both know you can't be in here.
Three of my employees are dead.
What am I supposed to do?
Wait in the hospitality suite?
Look, Sara...
I'm not here to cause trouble,
but I'm also not here to sit on the sidelines.
And as long as there are bodies
on the floor of my father's casino,
I need to continue to work this case.
Okay?
Okay.
I ran your name.
Says you used to run the Las Vegas Crime Lab.
Long time ago. Do you mind telling me
why you're unlawfully on this vessel?
Well, see, that's my boat over there.
The poacher who owns this boat has violated
Fish and Game Code 8599, which states:
"It is unlawful to slice the dorsal fin
"off a Carcharodon Carcharias
unless you bring the whole carcass ashore."
But white sharks can only be taken
for scientific or educational purposes under permit.
This boat has no permit.
My job is to confiscate the evidence,
document it and prepare it
for international and/or domestic court.
I had to ask.
So, now you're what, a CSI at sea?
Kind of.
Shark fin soup is bad.
It's worth getting arrested for.
(Willows scoffs)
Bastard lied about needing to get money from the cage.
He lured Romina over after he found out she had children.
BRASS: Pretty cruel.
Whew.
I'm good here.
Just release everything back to Sara.
As far as this piece of work--
just grab his photo and run it through NCIC, BICTOF,
local DMV-- I want a name.
Would you have assumed this if I was a nun
or a Hasidic Jew?
They also cover themselves based on religious belief.
Considering what your husband did, Mrs. Karmimi, I would.
Hijab or no hijab,
terrorism is not a stretch
if you're on my side of the law.
My husband converted to Islam
because we fell in love, Mrs. Sidle.
I came to America
so that I could live free as a woman.
Here, women have a chance to live and to love
without being stoned to death.
To you, he's a criminal.
But to me, he was a husband.
He was my salvation.
Sorry.
Um, I-I didn't mean to offend you.
I'm sorry for your loss.
That does not forgive what he did to those people.
I know.
Mrs. Karmimi, help me.
If not terrorism...
then why would your husband
strap a bomb to his body and do that?
I don't know.
My husband is not a terrorist.
If anything, he had a gambling problem.
I took him to our Imam to speak to him at the moue.
I even took him to therapy.
Therapy for his addiction?
Yes.
He was doing well for a while.
But then, the therapist of his,
she unexpectedly quit her practice.
And then he just spiraled.
What the hell is that?
Hey, you garbage men find anything gold and square,
about yea big?
Something gold and metal flew out of the bomber's vest.
Chest-high, right side?
Yeah.
Why? Uh...
I noticed this hand-stitched lining
on the inside of the bomber's vest,
almost like a homemade pocket.
Gold metal piece.
I found it earlier, but I wasn't sure what it was.
This flew out of the bomber's right breast pocket,
but this vest doesn't even have inside pockets.
Looks like this gold God-knows-what
was purposely sewn into the vest.
Good catch.
Now, there's some kind of etching on it.
Maybe I can lift it.
♪ ♪ (whirring, grinding)
♪ ♪
Forgive me, but who is Lady Heather?
Uh, she's a sex therapist Grissom had a thing with
back in the day-day.
Not, like, a sexual one,
more like... an intellectual one.
Anyway, he worked a couple cases with her.
And against her.
So what do we think?
That she could be involved in this somehow?
We don't know, but we'd like to find out
why this piece of metal with Lady Heather's initials on it
flew from the bomber's jacket.
ECKLIE: Sara.
Wait.
This is gonna sound like an odd request,
but do you know where Grissom is?
Grissom? Yeah.
Uh, let me see, grab a globe,
spin it, look for the blue, and pick an ocean.
He could be anywhere.
Why? We think Lady Heather
might have something to do with the bombing.
Lady Heather?
Well, even if she did,
what does that have to do with my ex-husband?
Lady Heather is in the wind, all right?
We're getting a warrant for her house, as we speak.
Come on, if anybody knows this woman inside and out,
it's Grissom; I figured he could provide some deeper insight.
Conrad, with all due respect,
this entire building is working the bombing case.
Greg and I have history with Lady Heather.
We-we got it covered.
I know, Sara, but this bombing is international news now.
I'd feel better if we exhaust all resources.
Do you at least have his cell?
(scoffs, chuckles)
(cell phone rings)
(phone ringing, buzzing)
GRISSOM: Well, if that's the case, Conrad,
then I need to come up there.
But you're gonna have to get me out of this first.
Hello.
Let him go?
Are you sure about this, Sheriff?
Okay.
I'll arrange transport
and relinquish him into your custody.
(sighs heavily)
It's your lucky day, pal.
I'd tell you not to leave town,
but I guess you're going to Sin City.
Vegas.
♪ CSI 16x01 ♪ Immortality Parts I and II Original Air Date on September 27, 2015
♪ Who... are you? ♪
♪ Who, who, who, who? ♪
♪ Who... are you? ♪
♪ Who, who, who, who? ♪
♪ I really wanna know ♪
♪ Who... are you? ♪
♪ Oh-oh-oh ♪ ♪ Who... ♪
♪ Come on, tell me who are you, you, you ♪
♪ Are you! ♪
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man
♪ ♪
(indistinct announcement over P.A.)
Mr. Grissom?
Oh, my God.
Hi. Welcome back.
It's been a long time since I saw you last.
Oh, but, hey, check it out-- CSI Level One.
I did it. (chuckles)
You know what the crazy thing is?
(whispering): It's my first day.
Do you want to take my blood
or offer me a chocolate-covered grasshopper?
Oh, but, uh, anyway, I gotta run.
It was great to see you, as always.
See ya.
Sara.
Gil.
I'm back. (chuckles)
I see that.
ECKLIE: Grissom.
Hey.
Thanks for coming.
Uh, let's step in D.B.'s office. Sara.
(whispers): Who's D.B.?
D.B., Grissom.
Hi. I'm-I'm Diebenkorn Russell.
Pleasure to finally meet you, Gil.
My brains used to sit on that shelf.
Yeah, I, uh, traded brains for mushrooms.
Hope you don't mind.
ECKLIE: Gil, we could really use some insight
on Lady Heather.
The most pressing issue is this.
At the blast site, we found a piece of gold metal
with the letters LHK inscribed on it.
It flew out of the bomber's suicide vest.
Well, that's her logo, but I don't know what this is.
ECKLIE: When was the last time you spoke with her?
A few days ago, by phone.
Guess your cell service is better than it used to be.
Who wants to catch me up?
Gil! GRISSOM: Hey.
I heard you were coming by.
RUSSELL: Catherine...
because your name is on the deed to the Eclipse,
it might be cleaner if you work other avenues for us, okay?
Sure.
I'll work up a chronological timeline
and psychological profile on Lady Heather.
Good luck with that.
ECKLIE: Sara, your warrant came in.
Lady Heather's house is all yours.
Perfect.
Grissom and I'll check it out.
Wow, 30 minutes in the car, no words.
If you were playing that silent car game, you definitely win.
I thought we were talking.
All right, uh, listen, you know, before we go in there
and deal with Lady Heather, I-I just want to acknowledge
that you and I haven't spoken much since the divorce,
or before it, for that matter.
We both went our separate ways.
You're doing your Jacques Cousteau thing,
I'm in the field.
Things end, I-I get it.
But-but you and I are professionals,
and as professionals,
I think it's in the best interests of the case
if we put on a unified front.
You know, work as a team.
So, uh, let's put on our game faces
and-and keep it professional.
See? Mine's on.
You ready to go in?
Seeing you again left me a little speechless.
Come on.
Dr. Kessler?
Las Vegas Crime Lab.
WILLOWS: From 2000 to 2006,
Lady Heather ran a role-playing Red Room out of her home.
Whips, chains, pig masks, the whole ball of sex wax.
SANDERS: In 2006, she shut down the Red Room
after her daughter Zoe was murdered.
Overnight, her Red Room clients became therapy patients
where she started her own psychiatry practice.
And three months ago,
she abruptly shut down her practice.
Why?
Well, here's a thought:
This year, Lady Heather's granddaughter Alison,
daughter of Zoe,
was hit by a car while walking to school.
She died three months ago,
right around the time she quit her practice.
SANDERS: You think the two incidents are related?
I don't know yet.
(sighs)
Lady Heather told me something
a long time ago, that I never forgot.
She told me that there are many things
that you can give a man--
your body, your time,
even your heart--
but that one thing that you could never, ever,
ever let go of is your power.
I think that she lost everything that mattered to her--
her daughter and her granddaughter?
I mean, it's painful enough to lose one child, but two?
I mean, what else does she have to live for
but to wield her power of revenge?
Not to mention, we're dealing with
a master of the human mind.
Yeah.
If anybody can convince someone
to blow themselves up, it's her.
Hmm...
What?
Do you got something?
Just put my pole in the water
and I got a hit.
What is that?
Sorry, I wish I had better news.
Especially given all the blood
you guys found in Lady Heather's house.
None of these blood samples belong to Lady Heather.
Not one. Amelogenin is XY.
Donor's male.
DNA from the carpet doesn't even match the bomber.
So there's another male out there.
Along with Lady Heather.
WILLOWS: Robbins found the other half of the gold metal piece
inside one of the female victims.
Looks like a key of some sort.
Not just any key.
This is a key
to Heather's Red Room.
Where's that?
The dungeon.
♪ ♪
(door creaking open)
♪ ♪
Oh, Heather, what have you done now?
Am I interrupting anything?
Only my precious thoughts, Henry.
Did you bring the movie?
Thumb drive.
What are you, Henry, about five-ten,
160 pounds?
164. Why?
I'm gonna make a bomb.
We're gonna blow you up.
Oh.
Okay.
Great.
ANDREWS: So, um, where did you learn
how to build homemade bombs?
And, um, does the bomb you're currently working on
have, uh, any chance of blowing us up?
If our organization fails
to put poachers in jail for pillaging our oceans,
we've been known to blow holes in their boats.
You can do that?
Not legally.
There.
Put the vest on.
(sighs anxiously)
I see I'm right on time.
(beeping) Okay, bomb's hot.
Behind the wall.
GRISSOM: Three, two,
one...
Look at the blast circumference.
Now, look at the blast pattern from the casino.
SIDLE: Yeah, they're identical.
Hmm.
Now look at this.
See the outline
on the brick of the C4 wrapper?
The rectangle?
There's enough explosive here to level the entire casino floor.
Well, based on the tool marks
in the stick of putty, the bomber only used a quarter
of the explosive.
Explains why there weren't more casualties.
What's bothering me is all the C4 we can't account for.
(piano playing upbeat melody)
♪ I'm a little caterpillar inching along ♪
♪ I munch on leaves ♪
♪ Is that so wrong? ♪
♪ I sleep in trees July to June ♪
♪ Hear me snore in my cocoon ♪
♪ When I wake up ♪
♪ I'm not a worm ♪
♪ Nature kicks in ♪ Closer to the kids.
♪ And then I learn ♪
Sure.
♪ I have wings ♪
♪ Oh, my, my ♪
♪ I'm a beautiful butterfly ♪
♪ Fly, fly, butterfly ♪
♪ High, high, up in the sky ♪
♪ Fly, fly, butterfly ♪
♪ High up in the sky ♪
♪ When you see me in the sky ♪
Sit down!
♪ ...how I fly ♪
(kids continue singing; parents murmuring, whispering)
Should I pull it now?
I'm gonna pull it now.
MAN: Hey, down in front!
WOMAN: Your seat's back here, ma'am. MAN: Hey, lady!
Pull it now?
Hey, you're blocking the view.
My God, she's got a bomb!
(everyone screaming) Oh, my God! Go!
(screaming, clamoring)
(screaming, clamoring fade into distance)
(door creaks shut)
♪ ♪
ANTHONY HURST: Ma'am?
(over radio): I'm here from the Las Vegas Bomb Disposal Unit.
Is it okay if I approach?
(sirens wailing in distance) Are you doing okay?
(siren approaching) You're doing great.
I just want to check you out.
Can you tell me your name?
Ma'am, I...
I'm gonna have to get a little closer to take a peek.
I'm gonna get you out of here in no time.
Correction.
I'll get us out of here in no time.
Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no.
You don't want to do that, ma'am.
You're already a hero today, ma'am.
All the children got out alive.
Why would she make me say that?
Someone's feeding her commands, just like the male bomber.
Can you get audio on the voice, male or female?
Anthony...
can you establish gender of the voice in her ear?
No, negative.
The voice is too soft.
I got four colored wires here.
I'm gonna have to cut them in order.
WOMAN: Okay...
I will. I'll tell him.
Sir?
I'm almost there. Stop!
Time's up.
I just got one more.
I'm here for Lady Heather.
(explosion thunders)
(car alarms wailing) OFFICER: Let's go! Move!
Inside! Move out! Let's go!
Oh, my God.
(sirens wailing in distance)
(indistinct radio communication in distance)
SIDLE: It doesn't make sense.
Why wouldn't the bomber take out
every man, woman and child when she could?
I think whoever was on the other end of that earpiece
was in the process of trying to exercise control.
I think...
he was sending us a message.
"He"?
You don't even think there's a possibility
that Lady Heather was on the other end of that earpiece?
I don't.
Gil, she's a puppeteer.
She's been controlling people for a living for years.
So, according to your theory,
Lady Heather is the dominant in this scenario,
giving orders.
And the female bomber is the submissive,
taking orders, right?
Right. By rule,
the dominant is not allowed to hurt the submissive.
And if, for some reason, they do,
the submissive is allowed to use the safe word
and discontinue the pain.
This is not some fetish game.
Sara, Heather would never hurt anyone
with the intent to kill,
especially innocent people and children.
It goes against everything she stands for therapeutically.
What was your safe word with her?
Stop.
We certainly could've used that word today.
Hello, girls.
My name is Catherine Willows.
I'm a special agent with the FBI.
You're probably wondering why you're here.
(sighs quietly)
At school today, did you hear
about anything happening in the news?
Some kid said a bomb went off?
That's right.
There was an explosion at the Eclipse hotel.
Mom works there.
I know, sweetheart, that's why I'm here.
Is she okay?
I'm sorry, honey...
your mother passed away earlier today.
(both crying)
But listen...
I want you to know that
I was with your mom before she died,
and she held my hand like I'm holding yours
right now...
and she told me
how proud she was
of her daughters Maria and Helena.
What's gonna happen now?
Who's gonna look after us?
What about your father?
Mom was all we had.
We don't have anyone else.
I talked to the principal.
The woman who blew herself up was a teacher here.
This is her classroom.
According to him, she'd been put on administrative leave twice,
for mental instability.
The school district paid for a therapist.
You'll never guess the name.
Dr. Kessler.
What kind of a person straps a bomb to her chest
at self-detonates it
at a school?
Perhaps someone under the influence
of Devil's Breath.
Burundanga.
The most dangerous drug in the world.
It's a flower that grows rampant in South America.
One whiff of its airborne pollen, and the recipient
relinquishes all control.
They'll do anything on command
from emptying their bank accounts for strangers
to putting on a suicide vest.
I found these on the teacher's desk.
My theory is that who's behind the bombings
gave her these flowers right before
she went into that school play.
Wow... (laughs)
Thank you.
Um, that's so sweet.
Uh, are you, are you a parent?
(inhales, exhales)
GRISSOM: Neurologically, the drug is so potent,
it literally turned off
the judgment receptors in her brain,
'causing her to kill
without pressing the consequences.
So, did the first bomber, the male from the casino,
have Devil's Breath in his system?
According to tox, no.
BRASS: Well, I don't think the male bomber
needed any extra flower power.
He was already pissed off at the casino for losing all his money.
SANDERS: So, what are the connections
between the two bombers?
Both were patients of Lady Heather.
WILLOWS: Is she the co-conspirator
in all this, or the mastermind?
I think she's being framed.
SIDLE: Uh, Grissom has this theory that
Lady Heather's being framed even though he doesn't have a motive
and making every argument to validate her innocence,
when everything that he's ever taught us
about the sanctity of evidence...
points to her.
Everything you say is true.
But we still don't have proof.
So, what if it's not her?
Who else could it be?
Who might have access to things
they shouldn't have access to?
(device beeping intermittently)
(device beeping continuously)
(beeping stops)
♪ ♪
Three months of cassettes missing.
Hey, Jim.
(clunk nearby) BRASS: Go ahead, Sara. What's up?
Hello?
Jim, are you still outside?
I'm here.
There's someone in the house.
Dr. Kessler?
Dr. Kessler!
Stop right there! Heather!
Stop! Don't move!
(engine starts, revs)
Heather!
You okay?
Yeah, I'm okay. I'm all right.
Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!
Hey, hey.
You have some thermal burns, okay?
We need to get you to the hospital.
Just stay with me, all right?
Hold onto me.
This is CSI Sidle.
I need an ambulance and the fire department.
DISPATCH: Copy that, CSI Sidle.
(continues indistinctly) ...ambulance and fire.
♪ ♪
I'm sorry, Gil.
♪ ♪
WOMAN: Ah...
MAN: Yeah, I mean, we're hiring, so...
WOMAN: Hmm, yeah, well, I know that, but...
you weren't paying very much.
Hello, Heather.
Thank you for coming.
You still have your rings.
You never take your rings off.
Why would I?
I have to bring you in.
Everyone in law enforcement
thinks you're responsible for these bombings.
I am.
Thank you.
I haven't spoken to her about the case, but she's
come in here voluntarily, so...
please treat her with respect.
Of course.
RUSSELL: Dr. Kessler,
thank you very much for coming in today.
Obviously, we have a lot of questions for you
about the bombings.
And hopefully I can provide answers.
SIDLE: I'll start, Dr. Kessler.
As much as I'd like to roll out the "voluntary" red carpet,
and welcome you here to your own bombing party,
I can't find it in my bones to overrule my gut,
so I'm just gonna ask you the obvious question.
Are you or are you not behind the bombings?
Your hostility connotes jealousy and resentment.
It doesn't suit you, Sara. You know what,
I'm not in the mood, Heather.
I'd like you to answer my question.
And I'd like some more tea.
RUSSELL: Dr. Kessler, we'll get you
some more tea in a moment, but...
I do have a question for you.
I came here to clear my name. Ask away.
At your residence, our CSIs
found a lot of blood in your living room.
Not a drop of it was yours.
Can you explain that?
I came home after a long day
and was surprised by an intruder.
(both grunting)
And you didn't bother to call the cops?
No.
After the death of my daughter Zoe
and the vehicular murder of my granddaughter Alison,
I've lost all faith in law enforcement.
WILLOWS: What about the look-alike in your home?
The lady who blew up in your car?
I don't know who she was.
I assume whoever's framing me
sent her in to send Sara on a wild-goose chase.
The only one sending us on a wild-goose chase is you.
You only have your claws out because of
the intimacy between your ex-husband and I.
Now who's being hostile?
Needle away, Sara. After all,
I've been on both sides of the pricking.
All right, okay.
Clearly my presence here is distracting. I'm out of here.
(door opens, closes)
Ma'am...
you mentioned being framed.
Could that have anything to do with
the missing client tapes?
Sara found three months of mini cassettes
missing from your office.
Do you think whoever's framing you...
Yes.
How else would the bomber know about
the gambling and mental issues of my patients?
WILLOWS: Just breathe, Sara.
She's only trying to get a rise out of you.
And the more you let her get to you, the more control she has.
I know. I-I'm sorry, I...
I lost my cool.
Damn it.
Don't beat yourself up.
I don't feel the way you do about Grissom,
and I want to kill the bitch with my bare hands.
I'm a woman; I know it when I see it.
So does she.
Remember that.
I'm going back in.
I shut down
my practice the day my granddaughter died.
The second she left this world, I lost everything that I ever
cared about. I couldn't go on.
I gave my patients three months notice and I retired.
Is that why
you sent your patient into my casino?
To enact revenge on the world?
You told Grissom that you were the one behind the bombings.
I am.
Is that a confession?
I'm not implicating myself as the mastermind
behind the bombings or the bombers.
My suspicion is someone is framing me,
and may be a former Red Room client of mine.
I just don't know who or why.
Can you provide a list of names?
Of course I can.
That's everyone.
All 13 gold key members.
May I?
HEATHER: What are you doing?
The blood found in your home was male.
I'm eliminating the female suspects for now.
Oh.
May I?
Why are they
eliminated? They're dead.
Heart attack, aneurysm, drug overdose, cancer.
That leaves five.
In your opinion, do you think one of these five men
is the mastermind behind the bombings?
I do.
So...
...who are you?
That's my I.D. card.
I'm a mechanic at McCarran International Airport.
We're the 11th-busiest airport in the world,
with over a million surveillance cameras.
Mr. Schember, do I have your consent
to swab your mouth for a DNA sample?
Oh, yeah.
MAN: ♪ Ah... ♪
(carrying note)
Mr. Wittington, I'm all done, sir.
Mr. Territo, you can open your mouth,
or I can get a court order to get your DNA another way,
but I don't think you're gonna like it.
How are you gonna...
Thank you. Next!
I was her first client, you know-- Lady Heather.
Congratulations. Open up, please.
When she got you into her bed,
you didn't want anything else. You want to do me
a favor?
Open your mouth and shut up.
Thank you, Mr. Rooney.
Thank you.
May I ask you a personal question?
Please.
How long have you been in that wheelchair?
For as long as I can remember.
Negative. None of the five suspects' DNA
matches the blood we found at Lady Heather's.
It's a dead end.
GRISSOM: Well, you won't be able to hold 'em.
SIDLE: No.
Just came from the hospital. Brass is gonna be fine.
Giving the nurses hell, of course,
but keeping them entertained. (chuckles)
Hey, you.
What you got there?
You going somewhere?
Me? No.
It's Mr. Grissom's.
Uh, did you forget your luggage?
I found it outside the front door.
That's not mine.
It's not?
It says your name on it.
Bomb!
Everybody out! Now!
OFFICER: Everybody!
(mechanical whirring in distance)
♪ ♪
Is that a human body?
PHILLIPS: W-Wait a minute, Doc, hold up.
I think there's something in his mouth.
What is that?
It's a micro SD card.
"SD" as in secure digital.
This is what you guys found inside the cadaver?
Mm-hmm.
What in the world is that?
RUSSELL: Looks like some form of digital identity
concealment.
MAN (distorted): If you're watching this video,
I want you dead.
If you're not dead, you've been kept alive...
for the purpose of psychological torture.
Human heads will rip off shoulders.
Bones will snap and fly from flesh.
Innocent blood will stain and spill.
Casino man and teacher lady...
were just the beginning.
The grand finale
is specifically designed
for you.
I have DNA results on torso man.
A curious name popped up in CODIS. Do you guys
remember a man named Jacob Wolfowitz?
He was convicted of killing
Lady Heather's daughter years ago.
He's also the man that Lady Heather almost killed,
until you intervened.
(groans loudly)
Heather! Stop it!
Let me finish!
(grunting)
You cannot do this!
(crying): Please.
I'm saying stop.
(gasping, sobbing)
It was Wolfowitz in that suitcase.
Wasn't he sentenced to life in prison?
ANDREWS: Well, he's out.
Well, half of him, anyway.
So, clearly, somebody out there
is obsessed with Lady Heather, and by the looks
of what we found in the suitcase...
somebody might be obsessed with you, too.
WILLOWS: Hard at work, I see.
I am.
Drawing sea creatures.
Whales and sharks.
Metaphor for Vegas, if you think about it.
Whales bring the money in,
the sharks take it away.
Whales are bigger in size and stature,
but they're the submissive.
Sharks are smaller, but they're by far the more dominant.
I think someone's out there playing the dominant,
but he's really the submissive.
Okay.
Listen... (clears throat)
I need a favor.
The new girl-- she's having a bit of a rough one.
She thinks she let you down.
I was hoping you might be able
to help her process the suitcase,
give her a little of that Grissom TLC?
She could really use it. I'd rather not.
I'm quite content here.
Where did that girl come from, anyway?
My vagina.
You don't recognize her?
Grissom, that's Lindsey.
That's my daughter.
RUSSELL: Oh, look at that.
I got an ear.
I got an ear!
Wait. Did I... did I hear you right? You got an ear?
Yeah, come here. I got a... yeah, I got an ear.
This stuff's amazing.
Whoever sent this video was using homemade software
to swirl the image, right?
So, pixel
by pixel, I've been trying to reverse the digital concealment.
It's like, uh, unscrambling scrambled eggs or something, but
I-I got an ear.
And we know that our bomber is Caucasian.
SIDLE: From what we can surmise from the partially reassembled photo
and the auditory voice analysis, the person in the video
is Caucasian, 40's maybe.
We also believe that the gender isn't female.
Are you clearing me?
I'm clearing you from being the person in the video.
I've not ruled you out as a suspect.
But you're not here alone without Grissom
to show me a marbled face and shoddy audio.
You're here for another reason, aren't you?
I'm here, based on what I've shown you,
to ask you if you have any idea who's behind this.
(sighs deeply)
I've had thousands of clients and patients
come through my domain throughout the years.
Any one of them can be after me
for a million unforeseeable reasons.
I'm not talking about you, Heather.
This is about Grissom.
Why would one of your clients or patients be after him?
If you're not behind this, then help me.
Help him.
You're scared for him, aren't you?
I am.
Do you love him?
I do.
I believe you.
You should.
Do you?
Do I what?
Love him.
No.
I'm afraid I can't help you.
That's the way, Lindsey.
It's all in the wrist.
What's our motto?
Too much dust, the evidence may rust.
Dust too lightly, it acts impolitely.
Hmm.
I got another one for you.
Mm-hmm.
Evidence may bare,
even if rare.
But it's what's not there
that gives you a scare.
That's my favorite one yet.
Hmm...
Wow.
I think I might have one for you.
Go ahead.
I think I found a clue to thicken the plot.
What doesn't belong...
is "X" marks the spot.
LINDSEY: Hey, I know what those numbers are.
Latitude and longitude.
Hmm.
Clever girl.
You want some company?
I'm good, Mitch.
(door creaks open)
♪ ♪
(sighs)
Dr. Grissom, meet Mr. SynDaver,
the, uh, latest craze in the medical industry.
These, uh, synthetic cadavers
were all the rage last year at the surgeons' conference
held in Boston.
They allow doctors to perform surgeries
without having to use real bodies.
I prefer the real dead bodies. Me, too.
(buzzing)
Ow!
Don't move, Doc.
(buzzing)
Sorry, my little Apis mellifera.
Good work, Doc.
Hmm.
So what do you think?
Cell phone towers?
Insecticides?
(buzzing)
I mean, for you guys to bail on your queen like that,
leaving her to fend for herself in the company of immature bees?
No wonder colony collapse disorder
is an issue in your hive.
Hi.
I was talking to the bees.
Shocker.
I heard you were in here.
I thought maybe you could use some help.
I'd love some.
I miss working side by side with you.
You and the bees.
Question is, how did the bee get in the cadaver?
I bee-lieve, Mr. Bee-- rest in peace--
hitched a ride from the woods.
Taxonomy came back.
Insecta, Hymenoptera,
Aprocrita, Apoidea...
Andrenidae.
A mining bee.
Forest area, Mount Charleston.
GRISSOM: Sniffer bees.
(buzzing)
The world's greatest bloodhounds.
So, you've already trained the bees with nectar,
and each color-coded jar has its own individual recipe.
And we place the open jars
into six different regions on Mount Charleston,
so we cover the whole forest.
Okay, kids, take these and place them.
Caps off.
Use the maps.
Follow your maps exactly.
Now, all we have to do is paint the bees
to match the color region, so we know where they've been.
Green-- northwest part of the forest,
orange-- southeast part of the forest.
Once they're painted, we simply bid them adieu,
and the search is on.
When we release the colored bees,
their first priority is to separate and find their nectar.
While in flight,
they naturally inhale everything in the forest,
so when they return to their colored boxes,
we can test their hives
for the presence of humans in high elevations.
So, if we get a hit, we'll know exactly where to look.
First time for everything.
GRISSOM: Excellent.
Well done.
Catherine...
the swirl image--
it wasn't designed just to conceal the face.
It has friction ridges.
It's an ulnar loop.
No, no, this is a hidden fingerprint.
♪ ♪
(buzzing)
Hey. Orange is back.
Orange is region six.
Man, they're fast.
(rapid beeping)
(electronic chirp)
Human presence negative.
So he's not in the southeast corner.
We can eliminate that region.
Five more to go.
(taps keys, computer beeping)
(buzzing)
Hey, green is back.
(rapid beeping)
(electronic chirp)
(computer beeping)
Oh, my.
Here you are.
(buzzing) GRISSOM: Red's here.
(rapid beeping)
(electronic chirp)
Finally, we got a hit.
Red, human presence.
Region two. 7,500 feet elevation.
That's steep. Top of the mountain.
Due north, Mount Charleston.
Could be a hiker.
Yeah.
Could be a killer.
WILLOWS: I got here as soon as I could.
Still searching.
(computer blipping rapidly)
It worked. We got a hit.
Sara interrogated that guy.
He's one of the five gold key suspects.
Greg, grab Morgan. We're heading out.
We got a name and residence
of the bomber: 1475 Coven Gardens Road.
I'll meet you there.
WILLOWS: Suspect's apartment is clear,
but we have reports of suspicious activity
in the parking garage.
(car alarms blaring)
(alarms continue blaring, horns honking)
You seeing this?!
The timers are synchronized.
We have less than five minutes to figure this out.
(sighs)
♪ ♪
WILLOWS: Dispatch, we are here at the Maggadino Apartments
off of Coven Gardens. The entire garage
is rigged with explosives on timers.
The building is fully occupied.
We are in grave danger.
Repeat, we are in grave danger.
OFFICER: Hold your fire! He's wired!
Dalton Betton?
How is that possible?
His DNA wasn't a match.
I push this button,
your friends die.
I pull this cord,
we die.
Finally...
I have all the power.
I hate to break it, but we don't have time for the bomb squad.
This is our problem now.
What kind of bomb
is this? SANDERS: Daisy chain bomb.
If one goes off, they all go off.
Not to mention, there's enough C-4 in here
to take down this entire apartment complex.
Look, the only way out of this
is we cut the wires at the same time.
We each have to take a car. Cut on my verbal command.
If we're a millisecond early or late, the bombs will detonate.
This building is filled with civilians.
We can't walk away from this.
This is all or nothing now.
Do or die. You with me?
Yeah.
(car alarms blaring)
Mr. Betton, the illness you're concealing,
is it cancer?
Lymphoma.
If one leaves his blood in Lady Heather's house
while undergoing stem cell treatment,
changing the genetic complexion of his DNA,
does that make him two different people?
Scientifically, I have two genetic makeups.
Your cheek swab will tell you that.
Philosophically,
I sent those people in to do my dirty work.
All for the purpose
of coming face-to-face with you.
WILLOWS: Four colors here.
Orange, yellow, red, black.
Red, black.
Talk to me, Sam.
Okay, we've got less than two minutes!
I want you to carefully take out your wire cutters
and steady the blades around the plastic coating
of the red wire! I repeat,
the red wire!
Ticktock...
ticktock.
What do you want? His life.
He ruined her.
He took her away from me
the moment he stopped Lady Heather from killing
Wolfowitz.
I was the first client.
I was the first man she slept with
in the dungeon.
And then you came along
and you turned her heart.
She quit role-playing because of you.
She quit her practice because of you.
She quit me...
because of you.
And now...
everything Heather and I once had
is gone.
You can't lose something you never had, Mr. Betton.
Lady Heather never slept with you.
She never slept with any of her clients or her patients.
But you've been emotionally attached to her.
Haven't you?
Question now is...
how attached are you to that bomb?
(scoffs)
All right, listen to the sound of my voice!
We snip on "one."
I love you guys!
(shuddering sobs)
Counting down from ten...
nine... eight...
seven... Oh, shoot! Oh...
six, five...
Got it? Yeah.
Two...
one!
Boom.
Your friends are dead.
I don't think so.
You see, I know about bombs.
I know about oceans, too.
There's a great mammal in the ocean
known as the 52-hertz whale.
All year, he practices his love song for the female.
Travels thousands of miles to find her.
But when he finally gets the chance to serenade her,
she doesn't give him a call back.
Why?
His love ballad is sung at 52 hertz,
a sonic signature one note higher
than the lowest sound of a tuba.
The average female hears
at ten to 15 hertz.
So she never hears his song.
They call him the lonely whale.
And year after year, for a hundred years,
he works on a new love song
and never, ever gets a call back.
Eventually, he dies off,
forever alone...
...heart breaking.
But you've been calling out, too.
You've been calling out for Lady Heather's love.
(gasping sob)
But she's not calling back, is she?
And the frightening part, for you, is...
she never will.
(gasping sob)
Don't.
You don't have all the power.
Do you?
Go ahead.
Pull it.
(cries, sniffles)
(sobs quietly)
(sobbing deeply)
Honey, it's okay, it's okay.
We did it. We did it.
Okay.
Good team. Yeah.
(indistinct radio communication)
(sighs heavily)
How did you know about the vest?
I think the vest was just there to scare us.
I could see it wasn't armed.
Betton could inflict pain on others,
but he couldn't take his own life.
He loved Heather too much.
I think he just couldn't bear to leave this world without her.
What?
Ah, Jules.
Wherever I go, you go.
(knocking on glass)
Heading out?
Yeah. Yeah, I'm...
not one for big good-byes--
cakes, candles and hullabaloo.
Well...
I'm not one for good-byes, either.
Which is why I'd like
to put my hat in the ring for that director position.
I mean, if Sara doesn't take it.
Really?
Yeah, I'm coming back home.
Vegas is in my blood.
I have my daughter Lindsey.
And just... so much of what my father left behind
is here.
Not to mention those two little girls
who don't have anyone.
All reasons to come back where I belong.
Home.
And you are heading east, yeah?
Yeah, yeah. Opportunity knocked.
Never too late to start a new chapter, as they say.
Nice.
So...
can I help you carry anything?
Uh, no, actually. I-I got it. Um...
Everything that's in my mind and...
and in my heart is right here in this box.
ECKLIE: Okay, okay,
one more, one more.
MAN: This way, Sheriff. WOMAN: Got enough. Thank you.
Great, great. Thanks, guys.
Congratulations, Sara.
Thanks, Conrad. Mm.
Talk to you later.
MAN: You guys might like that one better.
MAN 2: Good work, sir. MAN 3: Congratulations.
(chuckles) Thank you.
I never thought I'd see this day coming.
But with D.B. out...
You deserve it.
Vegas is lucky to have you.
The oceans are lucky to have you.
Ironic, isn't it?
I'm the one that
always wanted to get out of Vegas,
and you're the one who thought you would never leave.
Yeah.
Well...
So...
I hope you find what you're looking for out there.
Bye, Gil.
That's it.
We're done.
Thanks for your statement. The D.A. may
ask you to testify, but that's entirely up to you.
Sure. Whatever helps.
Heather...
(sighs)
...before I get back on my boat...
...I wanted to thank you.
Thank me for what?
When we first met, I-I...
had a shell around my heart.
I'd lost my belief in humanity.
The only truth I...
I knew was empirical science.
I-I just wanted to thank you for...
...opening my heart.
Through you,
I learned to love someone.
Sara?
She restores my faith in the human being.
Plus...
...she helped me with my crossword puzzles.
She's been my best friend.
I'll miss her.
For the rest of my life.
LINDSEY: Hey, Sara,
front desk asked for me to deliver this.
It's the videotape
of Lady Heather's final interview
before Grissom released her.
Oh, great. (wry laugh)
Thanks, Lindsey.
I... watched the whole interrogation.
Uh, I learned a lot.
Especially the end.
You should watch it.
♪ ♪
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man