[WATER RUNNING]
[SIGHS]
[DOOR OPENS]
OFFICER: Yeah, we'll take care of it right away, sir.
Oh, you're gonna love this.
Ring any bells?
Rub-a-dub-dub Dead man in a tub
Sleeping bag for easy cleanup.
Open window so the stench alerts the neighbors.
It's Royce Harmon all over again.
What do you think? Suicide note in the same place?
You tell me, Carnac.
- Now, that's weird. - Not weird, intentional.
[MAN SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY]
What kind of language is that? Swedish?
It's backward.
Would you excuse me a minute?
Yeah, okay.
- He okay in there? - Quincy wants to be alone.
We had a case like this three months ago.
A guy found dead in his bathtub. Turned out the suicide was staged.
Found a mini-recorder as a suicide note.
- Killer may have struck again. - Why does he wanna be alone?
He wants to get his mojo working.
MAN: My name is Stuart Rampler.
I reside at 818 Boeing Hill Court, Las Vegas, Nevada.
I am 43 years of age and I'm going to kill myself.
I just can't do it anymore. I love you, Mom.
You're back.
Shibley, take this recorder to the print lab.
Have Mandy dust it and run prints on it, right away.
The photos from tonight's suicide. Put a rush on them for you.
Photos. Thank you.
[WHISTLE BLOWS]
- Oh! - Ha-ha-ha.
- Throw the flag, ref. - Uncatchable, bro.
WARRICK: You suck. - Hey.
You guys want an assignment slip or a pink slip?
We were just taking a little coffee break.
- Is it true? - Same guy?
I don't know. We'll see.
Here, 410. Reckless driver out at Hoover Dam.
Car went over a cliff. Anonymous caller. Could be foul play.
Oh, me and him, working together? Oh, it's on.
- You're going down, bro. - Hey.
Work together tonight, all right?
Okay, we're going off the board tonight.
- Off the board? - Ones that got away. Fish.
Ah. I missed that one.
First victim: Royce Harmon.
About three months ago, Brass and I found this guy
dead in his own bathtub. But his suicide was staged.
I think the killer has killed again.
Photos of tonight's victim, Stuart Rampler.
Play the Pick Six Things That Are Different game. Bet you lose.
SARA: This guy's good. - Not good, exceptional.
Print examiner lifted a thumbprint off the mini-recorder
near the tub of our first victim.
The print came back: this.
The killer purchased one of these rubber hands,
laced the fingertips with cooking spray,
and proceeded to place false prints all around the crime scene.
This guy is good. Whose prints are these?
Some guy who works in a warehouse making Halloween paraphernalia.
Scary masks, airbrushed tombstones, rubber hands.
Turns out he used his own hand for the mold.
- So, what do we do? GRISSOM: We split up.
You and I go to the coroner. Sara, you go to the hotel.
Dust every inch of that bathroom. Here, use this.
Red Creeper. My own concoction.
Wow.
Yeah, well, serious case, serious print powder.
Be thorough. Don't take anything for granted.
Yes, sir.
- Everyone still breathing in that car? - So far.
Call came in blind. You see who could have made it?
No. We were first on the scene.
Fire department came in two minutes behind.
The place was dead quiet.
- Where's the driver? He get thrown? OFFICER: Didn't find anybody.
- I'm thinking DUI. - You calling it?
I'm calling that beer bottle.
How do you know it's from the car?
Still cold. Foam in the bottle.
- We'll take it up top? - After you.
I've read Klausbach's report on Royce Harmon, the first staged suicide.
- Similarities? - Well, based on the entry wound,
they were both murdered. But here's where it gets fun.
Looks like he was shot trying to protect himself.
What else, doc? My mind is painting.
He was paid a little visit from Mr. Muzzle Stamp.
- Forced into the tub at gunpoint? - Okay.
Let's play it out.
The killer's got him at gunpoint, right? Standing over him like this.
But this time things got messy.
Royce Harmon didn't fight back.
That's why there was no muzzle bruising to his temple.
Stuart Rampler was resistant.
He didn't wanna get into that tub too easily.
- He took a few jabs to the temple. - But the killer just lost round one.
We know how he gets his vics into the tub,
and we know that both deaths were homicides.
It's not a bad start.
Skid started way up the road. I got him doing at least 70.
It's more like 80.
These grooves are from the car's frame.
It balanced before it fell.
This is where he bailed.
Wide spacing. Slipping of the heel.
He ran.
- Who? - The phantom driver.
- Hey, hand me another beer. - No, you've had enough.
[HORN HONKING]
MAN: Where you going? Hey!
[MAN SCREAMING]
So your drunk driver just got out and ran away? Where to?
I don't know. That's why we're up here.
But he left his buddy hung out to dry, I can tell you that.
And how do you explain car number two?
NICK: Driver ran to this point. Car picks him up.
Here are your tracks. Probably took him to the hospital.
Not if we have these.
They're kind of out of place.
A walking stride up to the edge.
No.
This was a crime, not an accident.
You, uh, care to back that statement up?
My phantom driver against your criminal.
How much?
Fifty.
I don't get out of bed for less than a bill.
[CHUCKLES]
SARA: Hey, Evans. - Hi.
Victim's name is Stuart Rampler. Lives in town.
Reserved a room for one night
because his house was being fumigated.
Mm.
- Find anything unusual? - Well, I bagged a couple of utility bills.
Ready for mail.
It's almost as if he wanted to take care of some unfinished business
before he checked out.
Well, it's not likely. His suicide was staged.
It's an upside-down stamp. What does that mean?
I don't know.
Wow.
This stuff rocks. I love bathrooms.
Last time I printed a hotel bathroom, I had over 1000 prints.
Okay.
Close the doors and hit the lights, daddy-o.
Not a single print.
Oh...
He wiped it clean.
Yeah, this guy's a real pro.
Not only did he wipe it clean, it's sterile.
I thought you were gonna tell me that you caught him.
Mrs. Harmon, we believe that the person who did this to your son
may have done it to someone else. And we need your help.
Well, what can I do?
We talked to the second victim's girlfriend,
played his suicide recording for her.
She confirmed that it was his voice.
But I already told you that the voice on that tape was not my son's.
I know, we just need to be absolutely certain.
Do you have a recording of your son's voice
so that we could tie the killings together?
Anything, Mrs. Harmon. A home movie,
a recorded message off your answering machine?
All I have are pictures.
I may have something.
Royce gave this to me for Mother's Day last year.
It's a talking frame.
It's all I have left.
HARMON: Hey, Mom, it's Royce. I know you're always complaining
you don't hear my voice in the house anymore.
Well, now you can listen to it anytime you want. I love you, Mom.
I love you too.
Mr. Back Seat gonna make it?
- Name's Walter Bangler. He'll live. - He well enough to talk?
Subdural hematoma, compound rib fractures--
All right, all right, I get the picture.
- How long until we can see him? - I didn't say you couldn't see him.
He's sedated. If you wanna talk to him, you're gonna have to wait
till he comes off his meds, in about 12 to 24 hours.
[SIGHS]
WARRICK: Tan lines. No watch and no ring.
Check his personal effects.
That's it?
Must have been one hell of a fall to knock his watch and his ring off.
And take his money.
So, what do you say? Do you wanna up the stakes another 100?
To what, a deuce?
Say my foul play against your phantom driver?
You bet.
GREG: Okay, I've got Stuart Rampler's DNA profile ready.
All I need is something to compare it to.
Coming right up.
Let's see if we can find out who this licker is.
All right.
SARA: What do you got?
Well, according to the DNA,
Stuart Rampler licked the right-side-up stamps.
What about the envelope with the upside-down stamp?
Well, it came back unknown.
- He's toying with us. - Who?
Anonymous.
Supergluing the entire car? A little excessive, don't you think?
Hey, man, this is war.
You know, I checked with six different medical centers,
and no phantom driver at any of them.
Minor setback. How about the 911 call?
Las Vegas cell phone. P.D. is putting a name to it.
- Good. - What's all this?
Car was rented from the airport three days ago.
- To? - Walter Bangler.
I figure, Vegas vacation, side trip to Hoover Dam.
- Makes sense. - Mm-hm.
You find his watch and ring?
- No. - Ha-ha-ha.
- My pockets are getting fat. - No, he travels light.
There's only a change of clothes in the damn suitcase.
God, you see all that money in there?
All right, the fumes have settled. Give me a hand.
Yeah.
[COUGHING]
[CHUCKLES]
You can run,
but you can't hide.
Disco Placid? What's that?
He's a jazz producer. Specializes in audio.
Does voice comparisons for me from time to time.
He hears in perfect pitch.
- Really? - He's gifted.
[SINGING] I know, I know, I know, I know
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know
I know, I know, yeah I ought to leave the young thing alone
But ain't no sunshine When she's gone
I'm sorry to hear that.
No, that's Bill Withers, man. The man cuts me up inside.
Catherine Willows, Disco Placid.
- Pleasure. - Pleasure.
How we coming with our voice comparisons?
Got it right here. All I gotta do is heat this thing up.
Our mini-cassette recording of your first victim.
Comparing the "I love you"s.
MAN: I just can't do it anymore. I love you, Mom.
Now the talking frame.
HARMON: Now you can listen to it anytime you want. I love you, Mom.
- Minnesota Twins. - Mother was wrong.
It is her son's voice.
I laid in both suicide notes in the computer.
Stripped the tracks one by one. Picked this up in the b-ground.
HARMON: My name is Royce Harmon.
I reside at 7642 Carpenter Street, Las Vegas, Nevada.
[RUSTLING NOISES ON TAPE]
I am 41 years of age--
- What is that? - I don't know, man.
It sounds like a flag or a tarp or something.
Give me a sec, I'll give it to you in a Chinese to-go box.
Play the second victim's tape.
Okay.
RAMPLER: My name is Stuart Rampler.
[RUSTLING NOISES ON TAPE]
I reside at 818 Boeing Hill Court. Las Vegas.
[TAPE STOPS]
No, play it through.
I am 43 years of age and I'm going to kill myself.
Play them side by side.
- My name is Stuart Rampler. - My name is Royce Harmon.
- I reside at 818 Boeing Hill Court, - I reside at 7642 Carpenter Street,
- Las Vegas, Nevada. - Las Vegas, Nevada.
- I am 43 years of age-- - I am 41 years of age--
- It's fill in the blanks. - He's reading from a suicide script.
[RUSTLING]
- What do you think? - Disco.
MANDY: So I've got some good news and mysterious news.
Give me the good news.
Your results are back from the prints on the car.
Your vic, Walter Bangler, is top of the list.
That's a big list.
You fumed the entire car, what did you expect?
- What's the mysterious news? - I found some speckles of blue dust
in the ridges of Bangler's print. Here, look.
NICK: Let me see.
What do you think?
I have no idea.
I did some comparative digging on both victims,
Royce Harmon and Stuart Rampler.
Both are white males in their 40s, single,
and both have the same birthday.
"Royce Harmon, born August 17th, 1958.
Stuart Rampler, born August 17th, 1957."
One year apart.
Okay, so maybe it's some reverse or backwards pattern.
August 17th, 1958, 1957.
The suicide message was recorded backwards.
- The postage stamp was upside down. - Yeah.
Maybe he's telling us, in order to go forward, go back.
Sara, go back one more year. August 17th, 1956.
See if anything pops up with the same m.o.
I'm gone.
Mr. Grissom, the prints are back from Stuart Rampler's mini-recorder.
- Can we see the print? - Not print, prints.
What do you mean? It's more than one person?
Two thumb prints, overlapped.
- Can you separate them? - Yeah.
Running both prints through AFIS.
How can that be?
- Compliance? - Someone within the department?
What?
Uh... Catherine, can you excuse us for a moment?
I need to speak with Mr. Grissom in private.
Anything you have to say to me, you can say to her.
Well, the top print came back Paul Millander.
I expected that. He's the guy who makes the rubber hands.
I've already cleared him.
What about the compliance, the bottom print?
Came back you.
It's Grissom's print?
Wait a minute. Somebody got ahold of your prints?
How? I wear gloves at every crime scene.
I was printed for the job. We all were.
Well, somebody's obviously making this personal.
They could have got your print from a glass you touched at a restaurant.
From a latex glove that you discarded and they turned inside out.
God.
I get it.
Whoever it is, is telling me that he's got me under his thumb.
So who's your phantom driver?
Possibly a cop from Philly.
Or a nurse from Omaha.
Don't forget the mail carrier from Nashville.
Man, it's a rental. Those prints are probably older than you are.
- Well, this is going nowhere. - You giving up?
No, no, no. We're still on. I may be stalled, but I'm not out.
- You wanna take it to 3? - You wanna take it to 3?
You still think he was robbed?
Tan lines where his ring and watch used to be.
On vacation in Vegas, but no money in his wallet.
His face all bruised up before he took that cliffside tumble.
Damn right I think he was robbed.
MAN: Hey.
[GASPING]
- You all right, man? - Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.
I want the ring, the watch and all your cash.
All right, all right.
- Now, get your ass in the back. - What?
I said, get your ass in the back.
- Strap in. - Okay.
BANGLER: What are you doing?
He lays in wait, he robs him, he tries to kill him,
but he lets him buckle in?
I don't think the robber expected Bangler to get drunk
and go crash his car.
He probably freaked and put him in the back seat,
trying to fool me into thinking someone else was driving.
But he only fooled you.
- What about the blue dust, Warrick? - What about it?
- Don't you think it matters? - Maybe.
But there's other questions to answer first.
- Okay, like? - Footprints and tire tracks.
- I hate you. - You love me. Who you kidding?
Mr. Millander?
Hey, it's the forensics guy.
- I forgot your name, I'm sorry. - Gil Grissom.
Hi, Mr. Grissom. It's been a couple of months.
- How are you, sir? - I'm okay. What are you making?
I call it Good vs. Evil.
- You like it? - Yeah.
Reminds me of our supervisor on days.
So, what brings you down to my, uh, humble abode?
I have a couple of questions regarding that staged suicide.
- Remember? - Yeah. How's that going?
Not too well.
Say, would you like a cup of coffee?
- I got instant. - Sure.
I envy you, Mr. Millander. I do.
You can work by yourself, no one around to bother you.
You just do what you do.
I'd love to have that kind of autonomy.
It's really all I know.
I started out doing ice carvings, but the artwork never lasted.
I know what you mean. Thank you.
Let's sit.
How can I help you?
Do you remember the, uh, rubber-hand mold
- that you made from your own hand? - How could I forget?
Well, whoever the perpetrator is has killed again.
And again, your print came up. So I was hoping you could help me.
Sure.
The last time we talked, you told me that
you had sold several thousand units last Halloween?
Bestseller. Yes, sir.
Could you provide me with a list of your distributors?
I really don't have a list. Uh...
Why?
I was hoping to do a credit-card search.
Go back ten days before the first murder occurred,
try and run some names, see if any priors pop up.
I would really love to help you, Mr. Grissom,
but I just don't keep track of individual purchasers.
I'm just a wholesaler. I don't...
I don't crunch numbers.
I just spook the children.
Of course you do.
I'm sure you do it well.
Finally.
Hey, partner, you get a match yet?
- Ooh, Converse All Star. - Size 11.
And you needed all the books for that?
- Soles been around 20 years. - I needed to be sure.
You look tired, buddy. You want me to make you a bottle, go night-night?
Want me to clack that jaw, make you go night-night?
You should have worked the tire tracks.
Jimmy in Trace put together a digital catalog of treads.
Has thousands on file. Took me three minutes.
Pirelli low-profile P Zeros. High performance.
And standard on your alleged getaway vehicle,
the '99 Bentley Arnage Red Label.
It's a sweet ride, man, handcrafted.
So how many people in Vegas you think drive that kind of price tag?
Three. Did the DMV search.
- Any reported stolen? - Yeah, one. Last week.
Came in a couple hours ago. Take a look.
Ooh.
So sweet.
Check this, 1 -to-1 says that's the car.
Yeah, well, don't bet the sub shop. That's all the evidence you're gonna get
out of the Bentley. We found it at a car wash off of Warm Springs.
It had been vacuumed, detailed, the whole works.
It's cleaner than brand-new.
I wish Bangler's rental-car company were as considerate as your thief.
[CHUCKLES]
Dr. Livingstone, your dead man is making cash withdrawals.
Which one? The first victim or the second?
The second, Stuart Rampler.
The bank called, his ATM card showed a couple of withdrawals
after his time of death.
ATM machines take photographs every three seconds.
Maybe we can get a Kodak moment of this guy. I want the machine here.
I want prints. I want film. I want everything.
- The whole machine? - Yeah, the whole machine.
Okay.
- You got his clothes? - That's right.
What, are you doing his laundry?
Something to compare our mystery blue dust to.
Ah.
- So, what's the pot up to? - We don't bet on cases.
Ah. Of course you don't.
So who's winning?
- I am. - I am.
Fiends.
Your mystery dust is silicon blue dye.
What's that?
Pool-cue chalk.
Bangler's shooting stick with the phantom driver,
tosses a few back, piles into the rental, I-93, Hoover Dam.
But don't drink and drive, you might spill your drink.
Car skids, bangs into the railing,
seesaws on the edge.
What does the driver do? Man, he bails.
He leaves Bangler in the back seat to take the fall.
Literally.
Fingerprints, grooves, footprints. All the bases are covered.
Victim, suspect, crime scene.
Like a laxative,
it works.
Bangler was shooting stick. I'll give you that.
Burping bourbons, I'll give you that too.
But he left solo.
A few miles down the road, the Bentley thief flags him down.
Spooks him into a skid, boom, crash.
He's robbed, forced into the back, pushed over the edge.
With Bangler out of the way,
thief gets in his stolen Bentley, hightails it out of there.
No watch, no rings, no cash,
stolen-Bentley tire treads, Converse All Star size 11.
All bases covered. Victim, suspect, crime scene.
Like a canary, it sings.
You know, I hate to admit it, but I like your theory. It does work.
I was sitting here thinking the same thing about your phantom driver.
So, what do you think?
Can two solid theories, each backed by evidence, both be correct?
GRISSOM: There. There's our guy handing it off.
Life is like holding a dove.
Hold it too hard...
- You kill it. - Hold it too soft...
And it'll fly away.
CATHERINE: Have we located this bum?
Brass' guys are looking for him.
Okay, significance of the flipping?
He's obviously making a point.
What does the dove symbolize? Peace.
But I don't think it's peace in terms of human civility or unrest.
I think maybe it's peace of mind.
What do you have to attain to have peace of mind?
Justice.
"I'm gonna keep doing this over and over again until I get justice."
- How you doing? - How'd you find him?
We canvassed a square-mile radius of the ATM machine.
Started throwing bums hamburgers out the car window
in a nice, tight spiral. They ratted him out in 20 minutes.
You wanna tell him how you were approached?
- You know, I think better when I eat. - No kidding.
Jim, call the steak house at Circus. Get this fella a porterhouse.
How do you like it? Medium rare?
No, you look like a well-done kind of guy.
Rare.
LEEVER: Two minutes, understand? - That's all we'll need.
Hey, hey. How are you feeling, Mr. Bangler?
Better, I guess. I understand last night was exciting, though.
- Yeah. - I'm gonna come right out and say it.
What happened to you is not right.
The person responsible needs to be brought to justice.
You tell me who that person is. Who was driving that car?
Who the hell are you guys?
- I'm Warrick Br-- - I'm Nick--
I'm Nick Stokes. This is Warrick Brown.
We're with Criminalistics. We've been working your accident.
Actually, sir, I don't think it was an accident.
I think you were robbed.
And any information that you remember about your attacker
- would be very helpful. - I wasn't attacked.
I was drunk.
Really drunk.
No way I should have been driving that car.
- I guess that's enough for me. - Then it's time to pay up.
Looks like I'm a little short.
[LAUGHING]
Hit him. Take everything he's got.
You mean you got hustled?
I won the first game.
You climbed in the back seat yourself?
Yeah.
So buckling up really did save your life. You know that?
Yeah, I guess it did. Ha.
You get well, okay?
Glad we could help.
Well, the only thing we didn't factor in was his will to live.
And the Bentley thief, size 11,
he could've been at that crime scene any time last week.
So we push on the bet? No winner?
No loser.
[PAGER BEEPING]
406. Burglary. Double or nothing?
You're talking to the wrong guy.
BRASS: Can we start again, please?
Now, how did this man approach you?
He walked up to me.
Told me he'd give me 100 bucks if I flipped some cards.
He pay you cash?
- Mm-hm. Hundred-dollar bill. - You still have it?
How tall was this man?
Was he shorter or taller than Mr. Brass here?
A hair taller.
By "a hair," do you mean the hair of a rabbit or the hair of a grizzly bear?
Somewhere in the middle.
Okay. Let's say he was 5'10".
What else do you remember about this man?
He had a narrow chin.
His eyes were blue, deep-sea blue, you know?
Uh, jet-black hair. Spock-like ears.
Pointed nose, bushy eyebrows.
Sunken cheeks, with a bad complexion. Almost pock-faced.
Thin as a soda cracker.
And his clothes were wrinkled, like, uh, he slept in them.
Oh, and when he spoke, he spoke with a--
Stutter.
Yeah.
Paul Millander.
He set me up.
That son of a bitch. I had him and I let him go!
You ever make any rubber hands?
I sold 10,000 of those units last Halloween.
Even used my own hand for the mold.
So when I picked up the hand, he must have lifted my print.
Latex-rubber surface, freshly dried paint,
a snip of Scotch tape.
It wouldn't be that hard to lift and replant.
Sara, we'll be on headsets.
Run everything you can on Paul Millander.
Use Forenz-L, use Nexis, search anything and everything.
I'll call the brigade.
Typing in search word: Paul Millander.
Here it is. Paul Millander.
Age 42, 5'11", male Caucasian.
Address not on file. No criminal record.
Keep looking.
Listen, check the business database. Search word: Halloweird.
There's no listing, Grissom.
- How can that be? I was just there. CATHERINE: Change databases.
Newspaper index, periodicals index. Just keep trying.
I got something out of the newspaper index.
- What is it? - "Two hotel security guards
exonerated in alleged staged suicide. Boy's testimony shaky.
Paul Millander, age 10, testified that he watched in the closet
while his father, John, was escorted by two hotel security guards
into his own bathtub at gunpoint, where he was found shot to death.
- Official cause of death was ruled--" - Suicide.
Check the date.
Catherine, you were right. August 17th, 1959, it's a pattern.
So he was killing men who were born on the same day that his father died.
All clear.
Blank. What's that mean?
We have nothing.
- Mr. Grissom in? - No, he's out on assignment.
Do you wanna leave him a message?
No, just tell him a friend stopped by.
- A friend? - A friend. He'll know.