06x19 - The Finder

[bunniefuu]

♪ Got a idea, tell you what let's do ♪
♪ Let's go out to that place on the Turtle Bayou ♪
♪ We'll maybe get lucky, maybe get sh*t ♪
♪ It couldn't be half of the trouble I got ♪
♪ Turtle Bayou turn around... ♪

How did we even find these remains?

We passed the middle of nowhere about an hour ago.

That's not a legitimate geographical reference.

Anonymous call gave us the exact GPS coordinates.

Everglades makes it FBI jurisdiction.

Bones makes it your jurisdiction.

BOOTH: That is right.

BRENNAN: Male, late 20s.

Visually impaired.

I kind of figured that out with the glass eye there.

So, where are the clothes?

There's no clothes.

Well, when you want to get rid of a body, you don't want nothing between the teeth and the meat.

Extensive evidence of mammal, fish, reptile and bird scavenging.

This appears to be scoring from human teeth.

SHERIFF: Yeah, we get that.

Cannibals.

Feral hogs. Hogs got people teeth.

I know a guy made his own set of dentures that way.

BOOTH: Feral hogs?

Mm-hmm.

Sure.

The serial number for this prosthetic eye is discernible.

BOOTH: Great that's all I need.

Just give me the serial number, I'll just text it back to the Miami field office and we'll know the identity before we even get back to civilization.

Isn't that right, Sheriff?

You bet.

MAN: You identified Sam through his glass eye?

Acrylic eye, yes.

Does that mean his eye is all that's left of him?

Well... Pretty much.

Yeah, I'd say pretty much.

So, Nozik... he worked here as a security guard?

Yes. I'm the museum's head curator.

We specialize in historical maritime artifacts.

Was this some kind of an accident?

Body dump.

m*rder?

Who would m*rder Sam?

Traditionally, that is the question we ask.

Did he have any problems, issues?

You know, things like that?

There's something you should see.

That's Sam Nozik?

Yes. He failed to report for work ten days ago.

72 hours later, we reported him missing.

This is the last footage we have of Sam.

What is he doing?

BOOTH: Something sneaky, that's for sure. I mean, look at him.

He stole an 18th century nautical chart fragment.

Our most recent acquisition.

What's it worth?

Well, that depends who you talk to.

We're talking to you.

It's worthless, until it's authenticated.

Authenticated as what?

The final resting place of the Spanish treasure ship Santa Esperanza.

She sank during a storm in the spring of 1774.

Treasure ship?

So when you say worthless, what you actually mean is the exact opposite.

No.

Yes, I get your point.

But there have literally been dozens of these things over the years, and none has turned out to be authentic.

When it comes to such things, it's realistic to be a pessimist.

Looks like your security guard was an optimist.

Bones, you know those guys who use a forked stick to find water in the desert?

Diviners? I know one.

I know a man who can do third degree polynomial equations in his head.

No, Bones, I'm not trying to have a conversation with you.

What I'm saying to you is I actually know somebody I could put on the case.

To find the treasure?

Treasure maps have gotten people k*lled for hundreds of years.

It's a chart, Booth.

Charts reference water, maps reference land.

Find the map, find the m*rder*r.

Possibly.

How does he find things?

That son of a bitch has got the finder power.

Which one is the son of a bitch?

The him there who isn't a her or the big man that's reading a book. Come on.

Walter?

Walter? You mind?

We got an important "philiosophical" debate to resolve.

I think you mean "philosophical" which also does not apply to "Ninja versus Samurai."

Samurai. BOOTH: You know what? He's right.

I'd definitely go with him. Ninja is all stealth.

My bet? Straight up, right on the warrior.

Nobody said anything about a bet, Booth.

You still gambling?

It's a figure of speech, Wally.

Who sent you?

We need you to find something.

Of course you need him to find something.

That's what he does.

His question was, and I quote, "Who sent you?"

Who are you?

Leo, Walter's legal advisor.

Ike there is his bartender. Who are you?

I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan from the Jeffersonian Institute.

All right, look. You still on retainer with the FBI?

Well, if you were legitimate FBI, you'd know the answer to that question.

I'm going to have to see some credentials.

Okay. Oh.

You see that? FBI.

No. How about you? Here you go.

No, don't give him that. No.

Why not?

Just give... That's going to be bad.

Too late now.

He's very suspicious. Why'd you give him that?

You shouldn't just...

Now he's biting my ID.

He's going to ruin the magnetic strip.

All right.

Give me the ID, Wally. Wally, give me the ID.

I'm not done with it yet. Give me the ID.

(both grunting) Give me back...

Give me back the ID.

(crashing, Walter grunts)

Leo! Leo!

You provoked this upon yourself.

Let me know how things turn out.

A little help. (Crashing)

Leo, where you going?

Cold beer while you wait?

Give back the ID.

Wait for what?

(both grunting)

Booth, knock it off.

For the boys to get reacquainted.

You know, I could arrest you for assaulting a federal officer.

You know that, right?

WALTER: It wouldn't do you any good.

A while back I found the attorney general's son in a cr*ck den.

What is the connection between those two statements?

Walter here has a, uh... shall we say a guardian angel (ringing) on his shoulder? Isn't that right, Wally?

We can't touch him.

People are very grateful when it comes to the what was once lost and now is found.

Uh, Pudge here is blind in one eye.

How can you tell?

It's the way he holds up that scrap of whatever is is to the light.

"Whatever it is" is a map.

It's a chart fragment, Mr. Sherman.

Oh, please, call me Walter.

BOOTH: Seriously? Focus. Can we? Thank you.

Really.

Are you two sleeping together?

(laughing): No.

No. Would you sleep with me?

BOOTH: You know what?

You find the map, maybe you got a sh*t.

What? (Mouths)

WALTER: He's drunk.

Look at him wobble and belch.

Uh, what kind of chart fragment?

BOOTH: It's a treasure map, okay?

The last location was the Santa something.

Esperanza.

Santa Esperanza.
So are you in or are you out?

You know, you're supposed to find that Chinese satellite what crashed to Earth in East Texas.

That doesn't sound real.

Oh, it's real.

I'll squeeze you in, for my old compadre.

But I'm the finder, you're the catchers.

I don't know what that means.

It means I'll find the chart fragment, but it's on you guys to catch the k*ller.

Great. Done deal. Let's go, Bones.

Okay.

Uh, can I get your cell number, please?

What? No. Who told you to get my cell phone number?

BOOTH: Oh, just relax.

Don't be paranoid.

BRENNAN: In case I obtain any helpful information from the victim's remains back in D.C.

What exactly do you expect to find from a cracked-up bag of old bones?

Look, Bones has her thing, just like Walter here, all right?

Except my thing is real, not some imaginary finder power.

All right. I accept your challenge.

What challenge? He's upset that you said his finder power isn't real.

Tell me what you lost and I'll find it.

I haven't lost anything.

Everybody's lost something.

Bones... Okay.

Tell him...

Tell him about that thing that you won that you lost.

Just tell him.

In seventh grade, I won first place in my school science fair.

I lost the medal.

I went to... That's all I need.

Um, do you guys want Ike to fly you back to D.C.?

She can have you there in a couple hours.

She's your bartender and your pilot?

What's with the sudden interest in Ike?

You know what? We're gonna fly commercial.

So why don't you just go back inside and find yourself a necktie, all right?

Come on, Bones. Let's go. Chop-chop. Come on. Gotta go.

Fly commercial, they know where you're at at all times.

You get any kind of vibe of Pudge's place, Ike?

500 square feet, one bedroom, one bath, crap neighborhood, 600 bucks a month, max.

Pudge pulled down $375 a week.

Guy was totally living within his means.

LEO: You're saying he wasn't any kind of master thief.

Total novice.

Tell you what: somebody hired him to steal that map.

Well, no hidden key.

Break and enter?

Yeah, I'm a'risk it.

You want to come with?

I'm your legal advisor, not your accomplice.

Miss you already.

He's not crazy. Where I come from, we call Walter's gift "Darna Shealladh," the second sight.

Yeah, right. 'Cause, uh, you're from Scotland.

You know what happens, don't you?

The day Walter can't find what he's looking for?

You ever think that maybe that's why you and me were put with Walter? To make sure that never happens?

We both owe the man our lives.

Then thy shall walk in thy way safely.

Do you know what you are?

You're an enable-izer.

♪ ♪
♪ Something ain't right ♪
♪ I'm gonna get myself, I'm gonna get myself ♪
♪ I'm gonna get myself connected ♪
♪ I ain't gonna go blind ♪
♪ For the light which is reflected ♪
♪ I see through you, I see through you ♪
♪ I see through you ♪
♪ I see through you ♪
♪ Your dirty tricks ♪
♪ You make me sick ♪
♪ I see through you, I see through you ♪
♪ I'm gonna do it again ♪
♪ I'm gonna do it again ♪
♪ Ah ♪
♪ I'm gonna do it again ♪
♪ Gonna do it again ♪
♪ Gotta do right ♪
♪ Gonna do it again ♪
♪ 'Cause something ain't right ♪
♪ Gonna do it again ♪
♪ If you make sure you're connected ♪
♪ The writing's on the wall ♪
♪ But if your mind's neglected ♪
♪ Stumble, you might fall ♪
♪ Stumble you might fall ♪
♪ Stumble, you might fall ♪
♪ Ah... ♪

(sighs)

(cell phone ringing)

Who is this?

It's me.

You been in there long enough.

WALTER: Okay, story so far: Clinically depressed, no girlfriend, weight issues, mucho health problems.

Recently sold all his belongings except for hundreds of man books.

Adventure, p*rn, crime, spy, or how to k*ll grizzly bears with a spoon?

Crime. Except for one.

No pets, no friends, no computer.

No wonder he was depressed.

No, he was depressed because he was dying.

In the video, the guy's drunk, but this house is drier than Saudi Arabia.

So, bad guy bribes.

Pudge to steal the map, Pudge reads too many tough-guy books imagines himself a hard-boiled crook, shows up at the meet all whiskied up for courage without the map.

Demands more money, gets himself m*rder*d.

Yup. His place get tossed?

Nope. Clean as a nun's closet.

Indicating Pudge told them where to find the map, most likely after t*rture.

Otherwise, his place would be upside down and inside out.

(phone chimes)

Who is this?

It's Dr. Brennan at the Jeffersonian.

Don't you have caller ID?

Caller ID doesn't tell you who's calling.

It tells you who the phone company wants you to think is calling.

Hey, did you guys find out that the victim was terminally ill?

Yes. His mitral valve is completely calcified.

How did you know?

He had pyramids on the ceiling of his bedroom.

Pyramids indicate heart disease?

Of all the things humans created, pyramids stood the test of time best.

Dying people invest all sorts of meaning in them.

So, uh, did you find any signs of t*rture?

Yes, I did.

Three fingers were dislocated shortly before death.

It's possible, given his heart condition, that the victim d*ed with his secret intact.

No, he told the k*ller where to find the map.

Well, do you know where?

Poor man's safety deposit box.

I-I don't know what that means.

Pawnshop. You got anything else?

No, I'm done.

Well, me, too.

(toilet flushes)

(flushing)

For each person who goes in, three come out, and none of them is carrying merchandise.

Perfect setup for receiving stolen goods.

Frau Beckenbauer? Guten Tag.

(with German accent): My name is Walter Sherman.

Oh, hello.

Ich do Frau Becken who was Temperance Brennan's...?

Hey, Ike, how do you say "foster parent" in German?

What makes you think you're speaking German?

LEO: Here in America, you are considering false redemption of a pawn ticket... theft, identity theft.

Yeah, I'm a'risk it.

Das in seventh grade science metal den?

Impersonation with intent to defraud.

Thank you very much.

Totally understood me.

How strange that must be for you.

Tortious malfeasance.

I'm a'risk it.

(sighs)

I'd like to redeem this item.

Unless you issued a false ticket, it's a ukulele.

Although you spelled ukulele wrong... too many E's and L's.

Unless.... Is that some kind of code?

Law says that for 60 days, I can only redeem the item to the pawner, Mr. Sam Nozik, which is exactly whom you are not.

We can get a warrant if that's the route you prefer.

Hmm. Big ups for the Mod Squad impersonation, but no way you're cops.

Although, I'm always up for handcuffs.

You know what? Come here.

What?

Recently, you had problems with the city, right?

Plumbing, health, vermin.

Ah! Definite twitch on "vermin."

They shut us down for a whole week.

Right. Cops did that so they could install surveillance.

Don't believe me, ask them.

Those cheating bastards.

Oh, that's a shame, right there.

What happened to it?

Girl smashed it to bits.

A girl?

I figured it was the guy's girlfriend.

Mad at him, right?

I give you this insight in a spirit of cooperation.

WALTER: The girlfriend who smashed it... what's her name?

Benjamin B. Benjamin.

$300? That's one hell of a ukulele.

She maybe fished some piece of paper out of it before she vamoosed.

What else are you keeping from us?

LEO: Don't take that tone with the lovely lady.

What else do we have to give in exchange?

Right, well, what local cops like to do these days is they set up their own feed through your surveillance cameras.

I didn't get no name, but she had a tattoo across her chest.

"Do Not Resuscitate."

MAN: Walter, I told you when you found me a set of ivory irezumi tattoo needles from the Jomon period, anything you need, I'm your guy.

All I know, it's a girl.

"Do not resuscitate" across her chest.

Across her chest.

Daddy issues, self-loathing, possibly a lesbian.

What would be good is an actual name.

Anyone know an Ellen with "Do not resuscitate" inked across her boobs?

No, man. I don't know nothing.

Why?

Spider indicates dr*gs, color blue means meth.

Hey, are you in charge of meth distribution in all of Southern Florida or just this county?

(choking)

Leo? Leo?

As a peaceful man, I'm going to ask you politely to please let my friend go.

Or what, you're gonna recite me a poem?

(grunts)

(sighs)

"Peace goes into the making of a poet as flour goes into the making of bread."

Who the hell is that?

Oh, that's my legal advisor.

Hmm.

(loud, overlapping chatter)

Bartender's dealing Ecstasy, bikers get a cut of the pool tables, and they're running whores.

Yeah, I didn't bring you for your systems analysis.

Well, why did you bring me here?

Well, well. Do Not Resuscitate.

Brittany Stephenson.

Looks like the biker didn't lie to Leo.

Yeah, well, people never lie to Leo.

So, I ask you, why did you bring me here?

Oh, Rusty says she's lesbian.

I just need you to distract her.

How?

Uh, buy her a drink.

Uh, , something suggestive like a... ooh, a Slippery Nipple.

I am not lesbian.

I just have a confident "demeanior."

All right. Oh.

(laughing): Oy, oy, have a look.

Looks like Rusty got the ol' lesbian factor wrong.

Oh, this one's mine.

Okay, how's my breath?

She smuggles meth to bikers.

She tortured the fat man till he d*ed.

She doesn't give a toss about your breath.

Ah, I'm a'risk it.

Okay, while I distract her, you break into her vehicle, and maybe we get lucky, find the stolen chart in the glove compartment.

WALTER: Hey, you live on a boat?

(sighs)

You're like herpes... impossible to get rid of.

The Screw You?

My motto. Take it personal.

Okay, so, a tattoo: Do Not Resuscitate, a boat: Screw You.

I got concerns about your self-esteem.

Do you have any idea of the black market in organs?

That tattoo is like an open invitation to wake up in a bathtub, packed full of ice, no kidneys.

I'll look out for my organs, you look out for yours.

Are we alone?

How do you mean?

I mean, is someone watching us?

You've got some kind of mental problems, am I right?

Well, two tours in Iraq left me a little suspicious, but otherwise, I am a fully functioning male machine.

Well, hooking up with loony tunes like you has left me a little suspicious.

Tide's shifting now, so...

What is that?

I don't know.

Some kind of a telescope.

It belongs to a client.

Well, I got to shove off, so sayonara, which is Chinese for "Get lost."

When can I see you again?

Walter, you're cute, but if today works out, you'll never see me again.

Nobody will.

Because I'll be gone.

I could find you.

In my experience, men don't try that hard.

I'm like a whole new experience.

Once I start looking for you, I will find you.

Why are you being so persistent?

I'm not that pretty.

Well, that's crazy.

You're beautiful.

That's a good-bye kiss, all right?

Well, are you sure you don't want me to come with you now, just to be safe?

Now, Walter, who the hell ever got anything worth getting by being safe?

(engine starting)

WALTER: The chart fragment's got to be on that boat.

I octopused her.

I couldn't find the map anywhere on her person.

How about you?

Nothing in her truck. Not even a VIN number.

Ah, chop shop vehicle.

All stolen bits and pieces? Mm-hmm.

Nice girl.

Yeah, a girl who kisses a guy to make him go away.

That's a nice form of rejection.

Seriously, Walter?

Can you imagine how blokes she's driven away with that mouth?

WALTER: Britanny's got the original chart.

We'll get the next best thing.

(typing)

WALTER: Dr. Brennan.

Mr. Sherman.

What's this?

As promised.

(chuckles)

You-you did it. That's, uh...

I was going to say "impossible," but clearly, it's not impossible, but...

I-I... I lost this.

Are you impressed?

I'd like to impress you.

Why?

The usual reasons.

(laughs)

This...

This is me and... my mom. I...

I'm ex... extremely grateful.

It's amazing how many times people ask me to find something, but...

...the real treasure's something else altogether.

Did you come all this way just to bring me this?

Yes.

And to ask if you got somebody in this lab who can recreate the missing chart fragment from the museum's security footage.

Yes, yes, I, um...

Angela Montenegro has been... working on that.

I will take you to her...

...to her office.

It's, um...

MONTENEGRO:
The security footage includes several dozen frames from slightly different angles, so... we should be able to get a pretty good image.

How accurate will this be? 100%.

Who are you?

I'm her husband.

Huh. Are you rich?

Okay, where did that come from?

On a scale of one to ten, she's an 11.

Well, thank you, Mr. Sherman.

Yeah, you're a seven. So if you're rich it just explains the discrepancy.

Really.

Boys, the navigator's name was Absalon Fidalgo.

You know, this looks faint, but it looks as though this is the location where he abandoned ship.

Impossible. That-that'll put it northwest of the Campeche Bank.

Seguid vuestro jefe:

"Follow your leader."

Now that is an obvious reference to Jesus Christ and his representative on Earth, the Pope.

Which puts the prime meridian in Rome, not Greenwich, England.

And that pulls the shipwreck way over toward Key West.

(shouting over engine noise): You pretty confident of your arithmetic?

(shouting): I did it by pen, pencil, abacus and calculator.

Leo did it in his head. It's correct.

(beeping)

Then we are here.

(engine quiets)

Maybe when I'm down there, you two keep an eye out.

For Brittany?

More concerned about who she's working for.

Would you get a grip.

You're in denial that she tortured Pudge to death.

There was a sextant on her boat.

She thought it was some kind of telescope for a client.

Now, he was probably below decks which is why she wouldn't let me on board.

That... is our bad guy.

Very plausible interpretation. Yeah, I'm sure she's the nice kind of meth smuggler.

Got anything?

(through radio): Naw. You got anything going on up there?

Oil tanker maybe ten miles east.

IKE: You might want to rethink your maths.

Do you see anything?

WALTER: Yeah.

LEO (through headset): What did you find, Walter?

What do you got, amberjacks?

WALTER: Not aberjacks.

Brittany. Britanny Stephenson.

I suspect drowning. That is a good guess since Walter here found her at the bottom of the ocean.

SAROYAN: Really? Sarcasm?

Because this body shouldn't even be here.

It should be on a coroner's lab in Miami. I'm working for the Feds.

This is a federal institution. Who are you working for?

Me. No. Not.

That's not true. In Cam's defense, there's no singular autopsy finding (clicking) pathognomonic of drowning.

Ooh! Ooh, what? You find something?

(squishing)

BOOTH: What is that?

Well, it was in too far for her to have swallowed it on her own.

BOOTH: My guess is that her accomplice goes diving with her. There's no treasure.

He gets angry, and blames Brittany, realizing that she's the only witness to the m*rder of Sam Nozik.

Rips off her regulator and jams that down her throat.

Wait a second. Is that blood?

SAROYAN: Yeah.

I don't think it's all hers.

Enough for DNA?

SAROYAN: If our k*ller's in the database.

Whoa... More than enough.

(groan) She bit the attacker's finger off.

Unfortunately...

BOOTH: Wow. Digestive fluids degraded the fingerprints.

Di-Don't touch that, Wally. That's evidence.

Please, come on. This is the original stolen chart fragment.

My work's done.

What's this? Itemized invoice for my expenses... mostly fuel for Ike flying me back and forth.

But we haven't solved the m*rder.

BOOTH: Yeah, two murders. BRENNAN: Two murders.

We haven't solved two murders.

You hired me to find the missing chart fragment.

Eureka, ta-da, bingo.

Mission accomplished. I found it.

Uh, technically, I found it; In her throat.

Brittany's body was submerged under 80 feet of water in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico.

I brought her here to you.

I'm pretty sure that's the impressive part.

That's true.

If it weren't for Walter, her remains would never have been discovered.

Seriously.

BISHOP:
Before I tell you what I know, I want you to promise me the Church will get the treasure.

You got a deal, Eddie.

Please... address me as "Excellency."

I'm a bishop.

Bishop-smishop. We're here because you're an expert on Vatican treasure ships.

Ironic, isn't it?

He helped me find my faith when I lost it; Now my faith is the thing about me he likes least.

BISHOP: Where exactly did the three nails appear?

Here. Seguid vuestro jefe:

"Follow your leader."

WALTER: Right after the chart was soaked in blood.

But that shouldn't bother you, Eddie.

You drink a goblet of the stuff every day when you give communion.

Why is Walter angry at God this time?

The blood belongs to a girl. Not just a girl.

A girl-girl.

And Walter intends to find her k*ller.

I'm sorry, Walter.

She'll be in my prayers.

Yeah.

Your navigator had a secret so he used a special ink which would only appear when exposed to breast milk, semen or blood.

(heavy exhale)

Was he a Freemason or something?

Worse. Three nails means he was a Jesuit.

Mmm. Jesuits are Catholic.

You are a Jesuit... Excellency.

(sighs)

At the time of the sinking of the Santa Esperanza, the Jesuits had been abolished by Pope Clement.

And why should that make a difference?

A Protestant measures from the Greenwich Observatory in England; A Catholic, from the dome of St. Peter's Basilica in Rome.

What about a closet Jesuit?

From the Copernican Observatory on Monte Mario.

Thanks, Bish.

Walter, please sit.

I owe you my immortal soul.

I wish to discuss the brain damage you suffered in Iraq.

I'm gone.

Don't bless me; I hate that.

(exhales)

You know, you really should've broached the subject of his mental health before you told him what he needed to know.

Is that decaf?

Decaf's what you ordered, isn't it?

I didn't ask what I ordered.

I asked what you brought me.

Don't punish her because you're mad at Ike and Eddie and God and yourself.

Tell him it's decaf. It's decaf.

Hey. Why doesn't a cup of decaf cost more than a cup of normal coffee?

Why should it? Well, it goes through the whole extra process to remove the caffeine, right?

So, why doesn't it cost more?

What's the coffee industry up to?

LEO: People don't like to pay more for something that's had something removed. It's human psychology.

It's the coffee thing?

Show him the pot.

See? Orange.

Orange is for decaf. Oh, yeah?

Who came up with that rule?

Walter's upset that you and Eddie ganged up on him.

No.

Where friends conspire to help someone they love, it isn't really conspiracy, is it?

You know, we-we don't understand why you choose to remain handicapped.

LEO: How is he handicapped?

He can find anything. And he's so paranoid he can't enjoy a simple cup of coffee.

How is it paranoia when my best friends are actually conspiring behind my back.

LEO: I'm not in this. My people believe that gifted individuals, like Walter, hear Akashwani, or "a voice from the sky."

You think if you get treatment for your brain damage, you lose your finding mojo.

It's just nuts. No, it's not nuts, Ike.

It's true.

Okay.

There is an infinite, thrumming, unseen web that joins everything.

Everything is connected to everything else.

I mean, this fact is nearly impossible for us to grasp because we are just mollusks, shut up tight at the bottom of a dark, cold ocean, trying to make sense of stars we cannot even see.

I challenge everything, because when I do, a quick bolt of electricity jolts between two elements that otherwise appeared unconnected.

You call it paranoia: I call it epiphany.

You want me to give that up, so I can enjoy a cup of decaf coffee?

I'm sorry, I can't do that.

"Take me out of this dull world, for I would ride with you upon the wind."

What?

Wha-wha-what does that mean, Leo? Huh?

What the hell are you two talking about?

Come on, Ike.

I'll be fine.

Just so long as the world is full of lost things that need to be found.

You do know that the only infinite, thrumming web is right in here.

Excuse me.

I'm sorry; my mistake.

It wasn't decaf.

I'm going to bring you a new pot.

Wow. Every single time.

Akashwani.

BRENNAN: Booth?

Dr. Hodgins has something very important to tell you.

What? There are three nails on the chart.

Here. See? Clear as day.

So? The three nails were purposely rendered in a kind of invisible ink.

It reacts to blood, semen, breast milk...

Let's just get to the important part and then we'll back to the boring stuff.

If you want... we can figure out where to find that treasure.

MONTENEGRO:
Since the dawn of navigation, latitude has never changed.

Everyone was always in agreement.

The equator is zero degrees; No question:

No debate.

But not longitude.

Now we all agree that the Greenwich Observatory is zero degrees longitude.

But back in the olden days, there were hundreds of prime meridians, all of them completely arbitrary.

Where did the ship go down?

The navigator of the Santa Esperanza didn't base his calculations on St. Peter's Basilica?

MONTENEGRO: No.

Because if he had, the treasure would be exactly where Walter Sherman found that girl's body.

Now, the navigator of the Santa Esperanza was a Jesuit.

Since this is where Fidalgo studied, I'd put my money on the Copernican Observatory.

BOOTH: Look at that.

I tell you, they're pretty close together.

BRENNAN:
But at the bottom of the ocean, you might as well be a hundred miles apart.

Do you think that Walter found this out?

MONTENEGRO:
I don't know how he could have.

BOOTH:He did. He's got the finder power.

Is that real?

Yes, it's real.

God, I hate that son of a bitch.

Santa Esperanza went down right here.

These are the exact coordinates.

Have you verified the location of the wreck?

Once we realized the navigator was Jesuit, it was child's play.

Oh... my God.

It's genuine, 17th century Madonna della Strada.

It's from the Santa Esperanza.

I'm astounded.

My gift from me to you.

Oh...

I apologize.

Jesuit, you say?

The navigator was a secret Jesuit.

What led you to that conclusion?

Blood on the chart revealed a secret sign. Blood?

Your blood, to be precise.

The injured hand, in and of itself, does not satisfy the requirements of reasonable doubt.

I saw a 300-year-old sextant on Brittany's boat.

Where else could that have come from but this place?

Circumstantial at best.

What do you want?

Uh, you must feel terrible.

Just a slight mathematical adjustment, you could have had it all to yourself.

You're not the police.

So, what do you want?

What do I want? Yeah.

(grunts)

I want Brittany Stephenson not to be dead.

(grunts)

Ike advised me to k*ll him.

Discussing m*rder not only makes it conspiracy but confirms premeditation.

I advise against homicide.

Mmm, I'm a'risk it. Walter...

I'll be grievously offended if you k*ll him with Our Blessed Mother.

Ah... I'd never risk that, Leo.

BOOTH: Maybe I could just arrest him for, uh, for stealing that treasure.

How is finding a treasure "stealing"?

He was working for the FBI... right?... when he found that treasure.

And he can't just keep it.

Oh... Why do you dislike Walter so much?

Okay, look.

Rebecca was in labor with Parker.

I wanted to be there for the birth of my son.

Right? Right.

So I can't get a pass. So I go AWOL.

So what happens?

m*llitary Police sends Walter after me, to find me. I'm standing there, holding my newborn son, and in comes the finder, and he handcuffs me right there.

That was his job. His job?

Sometimes... you know, in this line of work, as a human being, you just have to look the other way.

This is my chance to get a little payback, that's all.
(engine revs, horn honks)

Whoa.

(tires screech, engine stops)

Oy! G-man, Skeleton-Babe.
(snaps fingers)

We've been looking all over town for you.

Okay. Is this the treasure?

BOOTH: Yeah, it better be. Better be?

Yeah, because if it's not, I'm going to arrest Walter. Is he in there?

Which is why Walter decided to skip this little meeting.

Arrest him on what charge?

Booth says that Walter found the treasure while under contract to the FBI, so he can't keep it.

Legally speaking, and acting upon my advice, Mr. Sherman had already quit his consultant's position at the Bureau at the time he located the Santa Esperanza.

That's true.

What? He presented us with a bill.

Good one. Don't sound impressed. That's not...

No. We reported the location of the treasure to the original owners. What, the Roman Catholic Church?

Yeah, that's right. Take it up with them.

(muffled shouts) Booth.

(pounding on box)
This isn't the treasure.

There's a human being in here.

Oy, oy, Leo, off we go then. All righty.

Whoa, whoa! No-no-no-no. No, no.

You kidnapped somebody?

There's a fine line between kidnapping and citizen's arrest.

I'm signaling my intention to pull out into traffic now.

No you're not, 'cause if you do, I'll add "fleeing the scene" to my list of charges.

I'm sure you'll find that Walter exceeded the terms of your contract. Booth, you said that sometimes we look the other way.

(door slams shut)

Lambert Chaisson.

BOOTH: Hey, Buddy.

Got an extra finger. You want to try it on?

WALTER: "Drowned Kitten versus Fat Girl Smoking."

That depends on if you like cats.

LEO: Are we discussing which is sadder or which is more depressing?

Same thing.

LEO: No. Depressing is a matter of personal taste, whereas sad is universal.

Drowned kitten is sadder. Fat girl smoking is more depressing. Walter?

He's thinking about the bone lady.

IKE: "Op-ti-mi-tist..."

(out-of-tune ukulele strumming)

"...versus Fool."

Optimist, without a doubt.

Fool, without a doubt.

I can't be the sole individual who's noticed the only thing Walter can't find... is lasting love.

Until now.

Because the bones lady could be the one.

Told you, Bones. Finder power.

There's a rational explanation for his abilities.

It's not magic. Maybe not.

But it sure is magicky.

What do you call my amazing abilities, behind my back?

Yours would be a rigorous application of training with an intense attention to detail.

Cheers.

I think Walter did look the other way, the day that Parker was born.

Seriously? Looked the other way?

He handcuffed me in front of my newborn son.

A newborn can see, at best, only between eight and 15 inches.

Parker probably wouldn't remember anyway, but more importantly, Walter waited until after you had a chance to hold your newborn before he arrested you.

You know, I don't like the son of a bitch. And you... there you go... and you can't make me.

Cheers to that. Right? Fair enough.

Got your medal back. (Laughs)