"The Crank in the Shaft"
Episode 4x06 / Production 3x18
Airdate: October 1, 2008
Written By: Elizabeth Benjamin
Directed by: Steven DePaul
Transcribed by: vanima_luhta
Disclaimer: The characters, plotlines, quotes, etc. included here are owned by Hart Hanson, all rights reserved. This transcript is not authorized or endorsed by Hart Hanson or Fox.
TEASER
(Open: Several people are waiting to get into an elevator. It arrives, the doors open and they flood in.)
VOICE #1: Excuse me.
VOICE#2: Excuse me.
VOICE#3: Six, please.
VOICE#4: He got it.
(A man pushes a button again.)
VOICE #5: Somebody already pushed it.
(Hamid Hirani approaches the elevator and sticks his arm between the doors as they start to close. He steps inside.)
HAMID: Sorry about that.
(The doors close and Hamid takes a drink of a coffee he apparently purchased outside of work. Chip Yap notices and comments.)
CHIP: Is our coffee machine still broken?
HAMID: It was on Friday and I couldn’t chance it.
CHRISTINE GERTIN: Well, I filled out a 1612 repair authorization for office equipment under two hundred dollars, but I never heard back.
(Ted Russo has ear buds in his ears, apparently listening to music.)
TED: Man, this guitar is bitchin’.
(The elevator opens and a few people leave.)
VOICE #1: Sorry.
VOICE #2: Excuse me.
(Gary Flannery looks back at Chip.)
GARY: How’s the third quarter P&L?
CHIP: I processed a stack of orders and returns with Patty on Friday. She was still reviewing them when I left.
(Hamid takes another drink of coffee and everyone in the elevator begins sniffing, as if they smell something foul. They look at each other accusingly and then the elevator begins to shake and the lights flicker.)
CHRISTINE: Oh my God, what’s going on?
(The elevator begins to fall rapidly and then comes to an abrupt stop. The ceiling tiles fall and a human leg wearing a high heel on its foot falls to the ground. Everyone looks sick.)
(Cut to: Dr. Lance Sweet’s office at the FBI Building. Special Agent Seeley Booth and Dr. Temperance Brennan are sitting on the couch across from Sweets and Booth’s leg is bouncing up and down repeatedly.)
SWEETS: The conscious mind represents only one-sixth of our brain’s activity. Now, I want you to both appreciate the power of the subconscious and our quests for its secrets as we...
BRENNAN: Stop!
SWEETS: Dr. Brennan, you can’t dismiss over a hundred years of psychological research.
BRENNAN: I’m not even actually listening. (She brings her hand down on his knee to stop him from bouncing it. He then bounces the other and she puts her hand on that one, too.) Your leg has not stopped moving since we started this session. (To Sweets.) Something you should have noticed.
SWEETS: I assumed he was anxious to leave, as he is every session.
BOOTH: Yeah, well, that’s not it. Okay, a guy at work, Special Agent Graham Kelton d*ed last week.
SWEETS: I’m so sorry.
BRENNAN: That’s awful, Booth. Were you good friends?
BOOTH: No, he was a creep.
SWEETS: Oh. So, then your agitation comes from...?
BOOTH: Kelton had the best desk chair in the office building, alright? Lumbar support, cushioned arms, Macintosh oak finish.
SWEETS: And?
BOOTH: And I want it. I put a request in, but so have all the other agents. I mean, this is one sweet chair.
BRENNAN: You are anxious that you won’t get a dead man’s chair?
BOOTH: Right. Mine, it won’t even recline anymore. Get this: Charlie Baron, okay, he’d been putting a request in to Human Resources even when Kelton was on his deathbed. Alright, is that low or what? Hey, Bones, maybe you can write me a doctor’s note saying that I need the chair.
BRENNAN: What?
BOOTH: Yeah, something along the lines, that I got, like, a bad back, and the extra lumbar support could enhance my job performance.
BRENNAN: I’m not a medical doctor.
(Booth looks to Sweets.)
SWEETS: The answer’s no. You’re obviously trying to enhance your status with your coworkers by acquiring something that they all covet.
BRENNAN: You want a throne.
BOOTH: Back support, okay? I’m just looking for a little back support.
SWEETS: Perhaps you’ve been feeling inadequate at work lately. Compensating in this...
(Booth’s phone ring and he answers it.)
BOOTH: Booth. Right, be right there. Well, got a case. See ya!
BRENNAN: (Stands with Booth.) Okay.
SWEETS: (As Booth and Brennan are leaving.) Agent Booth, I really think that we’re touching on something important...
BRENNAN: Thank you. (She shuts the door and they both exit.)
(Sweets sits back in his chair with a sigh, and then appears to be testing the back support of his own chair.)
(Cut to: Booth and Brennan are walking toward the office building where the leg was found.)
BOOTH: If I could help you get a better chair, I would.
BRENNAN: Thank you, but if I wanted a better office chair, I’d just buy one myself.
BOOTH: No, no, that’s not how it works, Bones. When you work for The Man he buys all the office furniture.
BRENNAN: Which man?
BOOTH: You’re kidding me, right? There’s no actual man.
BRENNAN: Then who buys the office furniture?
BOOTH: Never mind, Bones. Just never mind.
(Cut to: Booth and Brennan cutting their way through a crowd of people to the elevator where Dr. Cam Saroyan is already examining the leg.)
BOOTH: Excuse us.
BRENNAN: Sorry. So sorry.
BOOTH: Coming through, that’s it. Watch out. Whoa, whoa. Look at that. Hey Cam, you’re a real doctor. Maybe you could, do a pal a favor and write me a note for my back.
CAM: The chair?
BOOTH: Well, yeah, this is a chance for you to be, um, creative.
(Brennan steps into the elevator with Cam.)
BRENNAN: Tell us about the leg.
CAM: Given the pump, female victim. The skin elasticity, what’s left of it, indicates she was probably between twenty and forty years old.
BRENNAN: Striations on the bone suggests the flesh was scraped away.
CAM: And the remaining soft tissue appears to have been scavenged.
(Hamid takes a picture of Brennan and Cam with his camera phone.)
BOOTH: Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you thinkin’? Huh? A little respect.
HAMID: I wasn’t taking a photo of the leg. I was taking her picture. (To Cam.) You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in the elevator.
BOOTH: Back up there. (To the security guards.) Take-take him out of here. Take care of him.
BRENNAN: (Laughing.) Did you find anything besides the leg?
(Cam points up.)
(Cut to: The elevator shaft, Brennan and Cam are standing on top of the elevator and Booth pops his head up through the trap door.)
BRENNAN: The remains are smeared along the entire length of the hoist way.
BOOTH: Oh. Oh wow. God, that, that’s nasty.
CAM: I’m gonna need a spatula to scrape off all the flesh and the organs.
BRENNAN: The bones are in hundreds of pieces. I want them bagged.
CAM: Judging from the amount of putrefactive liquid on top of the car, she landed here first, wedging up against the shaft.
BOOTH: So when it went up and down, she... Oh, that’s not good. That’s bad. That’s not good. (He disappears down the trap door.)
CAM: I don’t see any hemorrhagic tissue. Victim was most likely dead before she was put in here.
BRENNAN: Well, fracturing indicates she was dropped from quite a height.
(Cam and Brennan sweep the beams of their flashlights up the shaft for quite a ways.)
(Cut to: Building Manager Stan Nokes leading Booth, Brennan and Cam toward the machine room on the roof of the building.)
NOKES: It’s the machine room. It has the control system for the elevator.
BOOTH: Who has access to this room?
NOKES: Only maintenance, but they only unlock it when the elevator is serviced.
BOOTH: (Knocks the door open with his elbow.) Lock’s been jimmied.
NOKES: I don’t know how this happened. I run a safe building.
CAM: Right, except for the m*nled dead woman.
(Cam, Brennan, Booth and Nokes enter the machine room.)
NOKES: It’s the first unit. Those cables raise and lower the cars.
BOOTH: (Pulls a grate up from a small opening in the floor.) Look at this. Okay. So you think the victim’s body could have been, you know, pushed down there?
CAM: It’s pretty small. But I’ve seen bodies carried down storm drains narrower than that.
BRENNAN: Who tries to hide a body by throwing it down an elevator shaft?
BOOTH: (Looks down and sees the butt of a marijuana joint.) Ah-hah, someone who’s toasted.
CAM: (Pulls a pair of tweezers from her utility belt and leans down to pick up the joint.) A joint, huh. I can get DNA from the paper.
BRENNAN: Marijuana doesn’t make you a k*ller.
BOOTH: Yeah, well it makes you stupid.
CAM: Stupid enough to jam someone down an elevator shaft?
ACT ONE
(Open: Medico-Legal Lab Platform. Dr. Jack Hodgins and the newest intern, Colin Fisher are on the platform, Fisher is pushing a cart full of brown paper bags marked with evidence tape.)
FISHER: Sad. Woman’s whole life reduced to a bunch of glorified sandwich bags.
HODGINS: Not the woman’s life, Fisher, just her body. Big difference.
FISHER: Whatever gets you through the day.
(Cam enters.)
CAM: What have we got?
HODGINS: Her clothes are shredded and covered in particulates. Still sorting through it all. I’m pulling traces to run through the GC Mass Spec.
CAM: Well, I’ve got the when. (Walks over to a computer and pulls up some information.) Vitreous humor from an eyeball confirms time of death sometime between Friday night and Saturday morning. And, her final meal was lettuce, yogurt, chicken and pita.
HODGINS: A gyro.
CAM: Most likely. I’ve got them checking Greek restaurants in the neighborhood. Maybe someone made a delivery to her office.
FISHER: Dead before the fall. Wish we knew how she d*ed.
CAM: Tox screen came back negative. No dr*gs, no poison, not even caffeine.
HODGINS: So, ball’s in your court, Fisher.
FISHER: Dr. Brennan left me with exactly one thousand, two-hundred and sixty-three bone fragments, each one screaming pain, v*olence and hopelessness. So how about cutting me a little slack?
CAM: The job gets easier with time, Mr. Fisher. Any leads on who she is?
FISHER: The hot chick is doing a sketch from the few pieces of skull I could locate and reconstruct.
CAM: Hot chick?
FISHER: Sorry. The other hot chick.
HODGINS: (Pulls a bow from the pieces of evidence on an exam table.) It’s a bow. With hair. It’s brown. Natural colors. (He holds it out to Cam who just looks at it.) It might help Angela with her sketch.
CAM: Right. You should give it to her.
HODGINS: I’m kind of busy.
CAM: And I’m kind of your boss.
(Hodgins exits.)
CAM: Anything else, Mr. Fisher?
FISHER: I also found hairline impact fissures on the lateral epicondyle.
CAM: And?
FISHER: My grad thesis explored the effect of falls on human bone. I got the idea at my summer job.
CAM: I’m afraid to ask.
FISHER: su1c1de hotline.
CAM: Were you... for or against?
(Cut to: Angela Montenegro’s office. Angela is sitting in a chair with a dummy in front of her with pieces of a skull attached to it. Hodgins is bringing the bow to her.)
HODGINS: Hey, I got a bow for you.
ANGELA: Look, Hodgins, we both decided it’s over. I don’t want any gifts.
HODGINS: Um, the bow’s from the victim.
ANGELA: Oh, right. Sorry. That’s helpful, that bow.
HODGINS: How’s it coming?
ANGELA: Well, according to my sketch, the victim was a model for Picasso.
HODGINS: (Laughs) Like it.
ANGELA: Mr. Cheerful is putting more pieces together for me.
HODGINS: That’s a good idea. Just so you know, I’m cool. You and I, we work together, and... and that’s it.
ANGELA: Great. We’re two professionals.
HODGINS: Yep, two professionals.
ANGELA: I should finish this, ‘cause this is...
HODGINS: Yeah, yeah, you know, and I’ve got lots to do. I mean, lots. So...okay.
ANGELA: Okay.
(Cut to: Fisher and Cam on the platform.)
FISHER: From the impact fissures, I’d estimate her fall was from at least sixty meters.
CAM: Okay, first of all, I doubt even Dr. Brennan could discover that from impact fissures alone.
FISHER: My thesis got me here. Ask her.
CAM: And second, that doesn’t indicate what floor she fell from ‘cause the elevator car could have been on any floor in the building when she landed on it.
FISHER: But since it’s a sixteen story building, at about ten feet per floor...
CAM: Eleven or twelve if you count the space between floors.
FISHER: Right. That’s 252 feet. That gives us 76.8 meters, a difference of about 17 meters. That’s...
CAM: Fifty-two feet.
FISHER: Meaning she had to fall from the top floor or the machine room above it.
CAM: Very impressive, Mr. Fisher.
FISHER: Well, I’ll still end up like her one day.
CAM: You ever think of finding a girlfriend, Mr. Fisher?
FISHER: I’ve got one. Jill. (He pulls out his wallet and shows Cam a picture of Jill)
CAM: She’s very beautiful.
FISHER: Yes. Now.
(Cut to: Booth and Brennan walking down a hall in the office building conversing.)
BOOTH: Patty Hoyle, she’s one of the people who didn’t check into the building.
BRENNAN: Angela’s sketch matches the picture on her ID card. Wait, so Cam is actually going to write you a letter so you can get the chair?
BOOTH: That’s right. She understands how the game is played.
BRENNAN: She worked for the same man as you.
BOOTH: That’s right.
BRENNAN: The man who doesn’t exist.
BOOTH: Wow. Can you imagine working in a place like this?
BRENNAN: No. It’s not sterile, and there’s no room for diagnostic equipment or sufficient bone storage.
BOOTH: Bones, I meant the little cubicles. Look, they look like caged animals.
BRENNAN: Throughout history, you can find examples of human beings adapting to virtually any environment. Like you and the chair.
BOOTH: Me? You’re way off base.
(They come to Christine’s desk and she is answering multiple phone lines and putting them on hold.)
CHRISTINE: Ziff-Young. Hold the line, please. Ziff-Young. Hold the line, please. Ziff-Young. Hold the line, please. Ziff-Young. Hold the line, please.
(Booth pulls out his badge and flashes it at her. She stops answering the phone.)
BOOTH: Thank you.
CHRISTINE: Did you find out who it was? The whole building’s been wondering. I was there, you know, in the elevator. It was horrible.
BOOTH: Slow down, okay? (He pulls out the badge of Patty Hoyle and shows it to Christine.) Did this woman show up for work?
CHRISTINE: Oh, Patty. Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Patty? Really? It’s Patty, Chip. It was Patty in the elevator.
(Chip walks over from a nearby cubicle.)
CHIP: Oh, man.
BRENNAN: We still have to verify identity with dental records.
CHIP: Hey, everybody?
CHRISTINE: Oh, my God.
CHIP: It was Patty.
(Hamid stands up.)
HAMID: No, not Patty. Pretty Patty?
BOOTH: Could you just keep it quiet, please?
(Gary steps out of a door and looks around.)
GARY: What’s going on? What about Patty?
(Cut to: Patty’s cubicle. Gary is showing them her desk.)
GARY: This is Patty’s area, right over here. Patty decorated the place herself. Even painted the frogs.
BOOTH: Lot of frogs.
GARY: Well, she was just that kind of person.
BRENNAN: One who was adjusted to an impersonal workplace. Nice chair.
BOOTH: We’re going to have to look in her computer.
GARY: Whatever you need. It’s all company property. I can get you the password.
BRENNAN: So you saw her last Friday?
GARY: She was still here when I left, yeah. Working late as usual. She...she was the best office manager you can imagine.
BRENNAN: See? Booth? Some people accept their position as a drone.
BOOTH: Are you calling me a drone?
BRENNAN: It’s not a pejorative statement, without the drones, the hive would die.
BOOTH: Anyone else wok here late?
GARY: Are you kidding? I mean , when that clock hits 6:00, it’s like the running of the bulls, especially on Friday.
BOOTH: Did Patty have any enemies?
GARY: Well, we all have to break a few eggs to make an omelet.
BOOTH: Do you know if she caught any of your employees smoking marijuana?
GARY: Marijuana? No.
BOOTH: So, no history of drug use here?
GARY: Ted Russo was arrested last year for smoking pot at a concert in the park, but he is a good worker. He promised me he hasn’t touched the stuff since.
(Cut to: Employee break room where Ted is making a peanut butter and berry loops sandwich. Booth and Brennan enter to question him with Gary.)
GARY: Ted?
TED: (Mouth full) Yeah? Well, hey, what’s up?
GARY: Ted, the leg found in the elevator? It was Patty.
TED: Oh, dude.
GARY: Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan would like to ask you a few questions.
BOOTH: Hi, Ted. (Ted stands) We found the remnants of a joint in the room where Patty could have been pushed into the elevator shaft.
TED: I don’t smoke, man. Yeah, my eyes look like this cause I have allergies. (Sniffs)
BRENNAN: We pulled DNA from the saliva on the cigarette paper.
TED: Really?
BRENNAN: Mmmhmm. And we can get a court order to take a sample from you.
(He looks back and forth between Booth and Brennan. Booth nods at him.)
TED: All right, sure. I smoke a little weed. Wouldn’t you? Locked up in these veal pens all day, you know, collating invoices. I’m an artist, man. But my dad cut me off, so without this place I’d starve to death.
BOOTH: What happened Ted? Patty catch you? thr*aten to fire you and you k*lled her? Ted, if you think these cubicles are small, wait til you see the inside of a cell, pal.
(Cut to: FBI Interrogation Room. Booth is questioning Ted further.)
TED: How many times do I have to say it? I didn’t k*ll Patty.
BOOTH: Would you call her a friend?
TED: She was the office manager, man. Eyes always on me, you know? (Imitates Patty’s voice) "Why are you using so many envelopes, Russo?" "Gee, like, maybe ‘cause I’m sending out letters?" But I didn’t k*ll her.
BOOTH: Did you think she was a bitch?
TED: What?
BOOTH: Right there, you see that? (Booth pulls out a picture of a red car with the word "BITCH" carved into the side) That’s Patty’s car. "Bitch" Is that an example of your artwork?
TED: No, I didn’t do that.
BOOTH: We found your roach in the elevator machine room, where we also found parts of Patty’s body crushed in the hoist way. We found two weeks worth of invoices that you hadn’t completed. Maybe Patty caught you, you keyed her car, you went back to the machine room for a quick toke and to chill. Patty walks in on you, she catches you, threatens your job...You k*ll her.
TED: Dude, you are so off base.
BOOTH: Let me have your keys.
TED: Why?
BOOTH: Is that a "no"? ‘Cause I’ll just go get a court order.
(Ted hands over his keys.)
BOOTH: Oh, look at that. Thanks for your cooperation. That wasn’t too hard.
ACT TWO
(Cut to: Medico-Legal Lab, Brennan’s office. Brennan is looking at fragments of bone on her computer. Angela walks in.)
BRENNAN: That depressed intern is quite clever. His analysis of the impact fissures supports Booth’s theory of where the body was dropped.
ANGELA: Great. I don’t know how to act around Hodgins.
BRENNAN: I beg your pardon?
ANGELA: We just ended a relationship that was intense, both emotionally and sexually. (Sits down in a chair across from Brennan’s desk.) Now rather than intense we’re just... plain tense. We don’t look at each other, everything is fraught with meaning. (Brennan stares at her, not saying anything.) Brennan, you’re supposed to say something.
BRENNAN: Oh, I’m sorry. What am I supposed to say?
ANGELA: Something that will make me feel better.
BRENNAN: Oh, huh. Um, well, both Hodgins and you mean a lot to me, but since you’re my best friend, I...I guess I could fire Hodgins.
ANGELA: What? No. Huh? I...I don’t want you to fire him.
BRENNAN: That’s good, cause I would have disliked doing that.
ANGELA: Yeah, of course. Thank you, though, for the offer. It was...it was very sweet.
BRENNAN: So, I helped?
ANGELA: Oh, absolutely, sweetie. Thank you, it was... (gives her a thumbs up. Brennan looks pleased with herself.)
(Cut to: An exam room at the Medico-Legal Lab. Booth walks in looking for Cam.)
BOOTH: Cam? Hi, listen, I appreciate the doctor’s note, but you can’t send it in.
CAM: Too late, that’s just a copy.
BOOTH: This note, it makes me sound like an invalid.
CAM: You want the chair, don’t you?
BOOTH: No, I want to keep my job. Hello? "Agent Booth suffers from multi-level disc disease with herniation of the L4-5 disc, producing rad-i-cu-ular..."
CAM: Radicular.
BOOTH: "...radicular pain in a sciatic distribution." This letter is going to get me a gurney, not a chair.
CAM: I’m a coroner. Tell them... I confused you with a corpse.
BOOTH: Am I the only one taking this seriously?
CAM: You are now. (Booth exits.) You’re welcome.
(Cut to: Medico-Legal Lab platform. Hodgins is working at a computer and Fisher walks over to speak with him.)
FISHER: You look bummed.
HODGINS: What? No. It’s just... sometimes answers pose more questions than they answer.
FISHER: Thus the melancholy.
HODGINS: Did you discover cause of death yet?
FISHER: Life, man. Life is always the cause of death.
HODGINS: Okay, now you’re just a tool. Why are you here?
FISHER: Well, I was hoping you could maybe give me a little inspiration, being a mentor and all.
HODGINS: All I have are the facts, man. Initial particulate analysis shows a thin layer of styrene acrylate copolymer on her sweater. It’s copier toner.
FISHER: She worked in an office. She probably got dirty changing a cartridge.
HODGINS: She was an office manager wearing a cashmere sweater. I doubt changing the cartridge was her responsibility, not to mention, the toner dust was all over her front and back.
FISHER: Very cool. She probably spent a little time rolling around the copy room floor.
HODGINS: Huh.
FISHER: Anything else?
HODGINS: Yeah. Yeah, there were some stains on different sweater fragments consisting of hesperic acid, ascorbic acid, citrus sinensis, furfural, proteolytic enzyme, alcohol, triarylmethane dye, a.k.a. Brilliant Blue. It’s a food coloring.
FISHER: Do you think the stain is relevant to the case?
HODGINS: Before I can answer that, I need to know what it is.
FISHER: I get it. We live our lives in the darkness, hoping for sun that seldom shines...
HODGINS: Go away, Fisher.
(Fisher exits.)
(Cut to: Booth and Brennan walking through the office building while conversing.)
BOOTH: Forensics analyzed Ted Russo’s keys, all right. There’s no evidence of red paint transfer from keying the car.
BRENNAN: This is a very efficient workspace, don’t you think? It affords a minimum amount of human interaction so the workers can concentrate solely on productivity.
BOOTH: It’s demoralizing. Don’t look at me like that. I’m not some kind of a drone.
BRENNAN: You have superiors to whom you must report, protocols you must follow. All of your actions are documented and reviewed.
BOOTH: Look, I do not work for some faceless bureaucracy, okay? I work for the United States Government, and so do you, which makes you a drone, too.
BRENNAN: No. No, I’m a completely independent contractor operating out of the Jeffersonian. In the hive, I would be the queen bee.
BOOTH: Still in a hive.
BRENNAN: In which I am the queen.
(Cut to: Copy room where FBI Forensic Tech Marcus Geier is already examining the area.)
BOOTH: Okay, what do we got?
GEIER: We found dried toner in a section of the floor and fabric threads that might match the victim’s clothes.
(Booth opens his mouth to speak, but Brennan beats him to it.)
BRENNAN: Send them all to Dr. Hodgins at the Jeffersonian.
BOOTH: (Stage whisper.) Says the queen bee.
BRENNAN: What?
BOOTH: Nothing.
BRENNAN: Use the ALS in this area. Booth, the light.
BOOTH: (Booth turns off the lights) I’ll tell you what, I’m going to be the king bee in my department.
BRENNAN: There’s no such thing as a king bee.
BOOTH: Sure there is. And he is going to have the finest chair in the hive.
(The ALS shows staining on the carpet.)
BRENNAN: This area might also have staining that could help Hodgins identify what else was on the victim’s clothes. Remove this section of carpet and send it to the lab.
BOOTH: What is it?
BRENNAN: I’m not sure. Cam and Hodgins will have to check it. The lights.
BOOTH: Yeah, yeah. (Booth walks over to turn the lights on while his phone rings. He answers.) Booth. Right. Just send it to my phone right away.
BRENNAN: What’s going on?
BOOTH: Computer Forensics, they went through the victim’s hard drive. Seems that she got a really angry e-mail last week. It’s from somebody who works here: Dave Farfield. "You self-entitled bitch. You are done playing with me. You’ll pay. Trust me. Love and Kisses, Dave."
(Cut to Gary’s office, Booth and Brennan are asking him questions.)
BRENNAN: Do you have an employee named Dave Farfield?
GARY: Yes. Well, actually, no.
BOOTH: Okay, which is it?
GARY: Well, Dave worked her for eight years, but he was let go last Thursday.
BOOTH: You fired him?
GARY: That’s right. Oh, God...
BRENNAN: What?
GARY: Well, it was Patty. She told me that Dave was a problem: disruptive, not doing his work.
BOOTH: So, it was Patty who got him fired?
GARY: She showed me an inflammatory e-mail that he wrote to her, and I agreed with Patty, it wasn’t right.
BRENNAN: And Dave knew he was fired because of Patty?
GARY: Yes. Oh, my.
(Cut to: FBI Interrogation room, Booth is interrogating Dave Farfield. He puts a picture of Patty’s car down in front of him.)
DAVE: I don’t get it. Keying someone’s car is a federal offense now?
BOOTH: So you admit you did it?
DAVE: No. But did you ever meet Patty? Someone was just accurately describing her. (Picks up the picture and hands it back to Booth.) I mean, what other kind of person would call the FBI because she had her car keyed?
BOOTH: Patty’s dead, Dave.
DAVE: Whoa, wait a second. Is that why I’m here? (Booth holds the picture up again.) Okay, look, sir... I admit that I keyed her car, but she purposely parked across the line so I couldn’t get into my space. I mean, every day, I would have to squeeze the car in. I scratched the whole side of my Corolla. And that car was cherry.
BOOTH: You hated her.
DAVE: She got me fired because I turned her into the parking guards, but it’s not like I’m the only one that didn’t like her.
BOOTH: Your coworkers seemed to like her.
DAVE: No, no, she drove us all crazy. She docked Hamid’s pay one time because he put too much half and half in his coffee. And then she had me reported for excessive use of the Internet, and I was the IT guy.
BOOTH: So where were you Friday night, Dave?
DAVE: I was at Paradise Isle. I met Chip over there.
BOOTH: Chip?
DAVE: Chip’s a guy from work. I got a little tanked, I bitched about getting fired. Chip drove me home, ‘cause like I said, I got a little tanked, but I was home before eight.
BOOTH: You got an alibi after that?
DAVE: I was online. I was online playing Knights of Atlantis. You can check the log or ask... Thrustkiller278 or Donnerparty819.
BOOTH: Right.
ACT THREE
(Cut to: Medico-Legal Lab platform. Patty’s skeleton is laid out on a lighted exam table. Cam and Fisher are talking about the damage done to the body.)
FISHER: Her body sustained severe postmortem damage: comminuted crush fractures of the upper and lower extremities, burst fractures of the thoracic and lumbar vertebrae, and shearing of the spinous processes.
CAM: Your reconstruction looks good.
FISHER: It’s incomplete. I suck.
CAM: This woman was mulched in an elevator shaft. Given her condition, I’m impressed with your work. Come on, Mr. Fisher, let me see a little smile. (Fisher gives her a deadpan expression.) That’s the ticket.
FISHER: I also found incomplete bilateral compression fractures of ribs R3 to R11. There’s inward deformation to the lateral aspects. Curve patterns are consistent with the outer edge of a shoe.
CAM: I looked at several sections of the epidermis from the area of patterned abrasions, didn’t find any hemorrhage in the soft tissue.
FISHER: So she was stomped postmortem. Why stomp on someone when they’re already dead?
CAM: Good question. And I have another. Did you figure out cause of death, yet?
FISHER: I told you, man, I suck.
CAM: Buck up, Mr. Fisher. You give me cause of death, I give you a Kierkegaard t-shirt.
(Cut to: Royal Diner. Sweets is sitting at a table reading a paper. Angela sits down in the chair across from him.)
ANGELA: Hey!
SWEETS: Hello.
ANGELA: Fries look good.
SWEETS: You want some?
ANGELA: If you don’t want them. So, I need some advice.
SWEETS: I have office hours, Ms. Montenegro. This is ...
ANGELA: How do I deal with Hodgins? I mean, we broke up so I just want it to be over with so I can get back to work without all this unspoken drama, you know what I’m saying?
SWEETS: Uh huh, uh huh. First, I think it’s important to find out what went wrong, why you were involved in an unsuccessful relationship.
ANGELA: Who says it was unsuccessful?
SWEETS: You’re not together anymore, are you?
ANGELA: Do you love your parents?
SWEETS: Yes.
ANGELA: But you don’t live together anymore. Does that mean your relationship with Mom and Dad was unsuccessful?
SWEETS: I don’t think it’s the same.
ANGELA: I do. Sometimes you have to move on, whatever your feelings.
SWEETS: When we create intimate sexual relationships, and if the relationship isn’t functioning the way it should, one is left with anxiety and confusion that will remain until dealt with.
ANGELA: Okay. So let’s deal with it.
SWEETS: No, it’s going to take longer than us sitting here for a few minutes. We need to find out why you were attracted to him in the first place.
ANGELA: He has kind eyes, great sense of humor, cute ass. He does this thing where...
SWEETS: No. No. Um, I meant what are those things in your past that have led you to Dr. Hodgins and what he represents to you as an archetype. You know what? I’m going to look at my schedule, but we should probably start by meeting twice a week.
ANGELA: No. I think I’m okay.
SWEETS: Therapy can’t be rushed.
ANGELA: Look, Sweets, the way I look at it, if I’m sh*t by an arrow, I-I don’t need to know where the arrow was made, or what kind of bow it came from, or even who it was who sh*t me. I just need to get it out of my chest. (Sighs.) So...thank you. This has been helpful. You’re good. Thanks for the fries.
(Angela exits.)
SWEETS: Go ahead. Help yourself.
(Cut to: Medico-Legal Lab, Cam’s office. Hodgins walks in to speak with Cam.)
HODGINS: Found another mystery stain on this piece of her skirt. It’s body fluid, so... it’s your problem.
CAM: What have we here?
HODGINS: Do you think I’m off my game because of Angela? Because of all this residual stuff between us? Every time I look at her, I still think about...
CAM: Semen.
HODGINS: What? No. I was going to say something much more romantic than that.
CAM: This stain... it’s semen.
HODGINS: Oh. Right.
CAM: I was also given a swatch of carpet from the copy room that had a stain. Also semen.
HODGINS: So now we know victim was on the floor of the copy room and that there were semen stains on the floor and now on her skirt?
CAM: My guess is, the stains will match.
(Cut to: Booth and Brennan walking through the smoking area of the office building.)
BOOTH: Patty Hoyle ordered food Friday night, had it delivered to the office. Guess whose credit card she used?
BRENNAN: Well, I really don’t have enough data to make an educated guess.
BOOTH: Oh, her boss is Gary Flannery.
BRENNAN: So, Cam is comparing the semen found on the floor with the stain found on the skirt.
BOOTH: Seems like Pretty Patty was sleeping her way up the food chain with the boss.
BRENNAN: Flannery is married. Maybe she threatened to expose the affair, and he decided to k*ll her to keep her quiet.
(They walk around a corner to see HAMID: Just because tech support is in India doesn’t mean I get special treatment. Patty knew that.
GARY: Just call them, please.
BOOTH: Excuse me. Mr. Flannery, like to ask you a few questions about your credit card statement.
BRENNAN: I’d like to ask him for a DNA sample.
BOOTH: Now.
(Cut to: FBI Interrogation room. Booth and Brennan are interrogating Gary.)
GARY: Patty was a valued employee and that is all.
BOOTH: Come on, you think I’m gonna slam you for having a little fun? It happens. Late night meetings, a little cleavage.
GARY: No. I-I’m a married man.
BRENNAN: Then why did you give her your credit card?
GARY: For the occasional business expense.
BOOTH: Room service, massage, shiatsu one hour, a purse, three hundred dollars worth of lingerie.
GARY: I was not having sex with Patty!
BOOTH: Why did she have your credit card?
BRENNAN: And semen on her skirt.
GARY: No! Patty decided to run an expendables audit, all right, she wanted to account for every damn pencil. And she found out I was ordering extra office supplies and selling the surplus online. She was going to report me to corporate. But she said she’d keep her mouth shut if I let her use my card now and then. Oh, she had the whole office under her thumb, knew everyone’s business. Sneaky bitch.
BRENNAN: So she was blackmailing you. That’s not easy to stop, is it?
GARY: But I didn’t k*ll her. Please. You can’t tell the head office. I’ve got a family. I could lose my job, my healthcare, my pension...
BOOTH: Shut up. Open your mouth.
GARY: (Opens his mouth so Brennan can swab it.) Ahhh...
(Cut to: Medico-Legal Lab, exam room. Brennan and Fisher are going over the remains.)
BRENNAN: What have you found? The pelvis?
FISHER: The anteroposterior diameter is 160 millimeters. Transverse diameter is 240 millimeters. (Pauses and scoffs.) Listen to me. Reducing the pelvic inlet, the orifice of life, to a numerical abstract.
BRENNAN: We need mathematical constructs to understand any aspect of our world, Mr. Fisher. And those figures and equations are beautiful. Like a musical composition, they give life meaning and us the possibility of knowing the unknowable.
FISHER: Right. There’s no evidence that the body was disarticulated prior to being shoved down the chute, so she either went in headfirst or feetfirst. Given that, I’ve cut a hole that corresponds to the measurements of the chute. (He lifts a box and hands it to Brennan, then picks up the pelvic bone and demonstrates it against the hole he’s cut in the box.) There’s only one problem. Any way you turn it, the pelvis won’t fit. So, the body couldn’t have entered the shaft by that chute. But since it still had to fall a minimum of 60 meters...
BRENNAN: It was dumped from the 16th floor. I’ll call Booth.
(Cam enters.)
CAM: DNA results came back. The two semen stains are a match—the one from her skirt and the one from the copy room floor. But they’re not from her boss. Sorry.
(Cut to: Medico-Legal Lab, platform. Hodgins is working as Angela approaches.)
ANGELA: Hey.
HODGINS: Hey, uh...hi.
ANGELA: Look, this tension between us, I hate it. I-I mean, I know that we broke up and everything, but I’ve experienced loss before and lived through it and... you have, too. And I’m not gonna pretend this didn’t happen because it might be easier to break up. I’m going to relive us huddled last winter in that cabin in Montana when the lights went out and the heat went out and laughing our asses off when you tried explaining that spectrometer thingy to me. So, I am not going to hide anymore, and I’m not going to walk on eggshells. I am just going to accept that the whole damn mess happened, and pain or not, I’m glad it did.
HODGINS: Okay.
(Angela exits.)
(Cut to: Booth and Brennan in the office building. Brennan is examining the elevator door.)
BRENNAN: So, forensics didn’t find any prints?
BOOTH: (Trying to pry the elevator doors open on his own and unable to do so. Sighs.) No. Cleaning crew came in over the weekend and wiped down all the elevator doors.
BRENNAN: Eh, no blood. What’s that? (She points to a pink pastry box next to Booth’s feet.)
BOOTH: What?
BRENNAN: That.
BOOTH: Those are my cupcakes. I got them for the HR officer at work. I heard she loves them.
BRENNAN: So, fraud and bribery?
BOOTH: No. Twelve years of service and lumbar support, okay? It’s all a matter of perception.
BRENNAN: Okay.
BOOTH: Don’t say it like that. "Okay," like I’m some kind of kid.
BRENNAN: Okay.
BOOTH: It’s looking pretty good, too, Bones. I mean, Willie Ackerman, he got cut off the list ‘cause he got his note from an acupuncturist, and that doesn’t even count. Hah! Boob. Watch out, I’m going to try this again. (He tries to pry the doors open again.) Oh, man. Ah, forget it! There’s no way that I could keep that open long enough to dump a body, and I’m in shape.
BRENNAN: Must have been someone that was stronger than you.
BOOTH: You’re kidding me? Have you seen the people in these offices? Compared to them, I am Hercules.
BRENNAN: Well, apparently not. Maybe you do need that chair.
BOOTH: Or maybe it was two people.
ACT FOUR
(Cut to: Medico-Legal Lab, Cam and Fisher are examining the remains.)
FISHER: One thousand, two-hundred and sixty-three bone fragments and I’ve checked every single one of them. And the only cause of death I see is on the squamous temporal bone.
CAM: The localized staining would be consistent with blunt force trauma.
FISHER: Except there’s no sign of that on the exterior of the skull.
CAM: Then it was probably caused by a ruptured aneurysm.
FISHER: Which would make her death an accident. And our persuit for a villain merely a cry for justice in an unjust world.
CAM: But if it’s an accident, it wouldn’t account for the elevator or the semen.
FISHER: True. I should have found that earlier. Dr. Brennan’s going to fire me, isn’t she? I guess while I was trying to see the metaphorical sun, I totally forgot that the chances of survival in an unfriendly cosmos...
CAM: Have you considered Prozac, Mr. Fisher?
FISHER: Already on it.
CAM: Then double your dose ‘cause you’re bringing me down, and that’s hard to do, ‘cause I have worked with death for years and you are making it all look like good times now. So, get it together, okay, Eeyore?
(Brennan enters.)
BRENNAN: What have you found?
CAM: An aneurysm.
FISHER: It should have been caused by trauma to the ectocranial surface, but there’s no evidence of trauma at all.
BRENNAN: Very good, Mr. Fisher. What do you see there?
FISHER: Two tiny punctures, approximately seven millimeters apart. And what’s very good? I totally missed them.
CAM: You found the hemorrhagic stain that led us here.
FISHER: So what caused them? Snake fangs? Eastern pipistrelle bat? Uh, a vampire?
BRENNAN: Fingerprint powder.
(Fisher goes to get the fingerprint powder. Brennan applies it and examines the puncture wounds beneath a microscope.)
FISHER: What are you doing?
BRENNAN: A fine horizontal bar terminating in two vertical protrusions.
CAM: Oh, my God. She was k*lled by a staple.
(Cut to: Royal Diner, Booth and Brennan are eating and talking at a table near the window.)
BOOTH: A staple?
BRENNAN: Mmhm.
BOOTH: How do you k*ll somebody with a staple?
BRENNAN: It perforated the thinnest part of the calvarium... the squamous temporal bone... causing Miss Hoyle’s preexisting aneurysm to rupture.
BOOTH: And how do you get somebody to stand still while you staple them?
BRENNAN: There’s a small depression near the wound that suggests the stapler was thrown.
BOOTH: So whoever did this didn’t mean to k*ll her.
BRENNAN: No, I can’t confirm that.
BOOTH: It’s common sense, Bones. One doesn’t usually use a stapler as a m*rder w*apon, and they certainly couldn’t have known that she had an aneurysm.
BRENNAN: I’ll concede on both points.
BOOTH: Tell you what, my boys are looking for the m*rder w*apon. Maybe we can pull some prints.
BRENNAN: So Patty has sex with someone who then hits her with a stapler. Odd work environment.
(Hodgins enters and sits next to Brennan.)
HODGINS: Okay, you are not going to believe this.
BOOTH: Yeah, try topping death by office supplies.
HODGINS: I was wracking my brian over the trace analysis from the sweater. Furfural, proteolytic enzyme, triarylmethane dye...
BOOTH: Hodgins, Hodg-Hodgins. Eyes are glazing over.
HODGINS: It’s a blue Hawaiian.
BRENNAN: What’s a blue Hawaiian?
BOOTH: Well, it’s a potent cocktail. Two of those puppies and you’re asking yourself, "Hey, why amd I naked and who are all these people?"
HODGINS: Brilliant blue FCF from the blue curacao, furfural from the rum, proteolytic enzyme—pinapple, alcohol speaks for itself.
BRENNAN: Is this the sort of beverage they would serve at the Paradise Isle?
BOOTH: Yeah, it comes in one of those ceramic monkey heads. So the k*ller must have stepped in spilled drink.
HODGINS: Given the level of fructose and sugarcane, it would have adhered to his shoe. He stomps on the victim, and presto, her sweater lights up with more traces than a luau pig.
BRENNAN: Dave as at Paradise Isle, but his, his alibi checks out.
BOOTH: Yeah, but Dave was there with Chip, who gave him a ride home, but we don’t know what Chip did for the rest of the night. Good work, Hodgins.
HODGINS: Thanks.
BOOTH: Now you can have a French fry.
HODGINS: Hey, man, right? Hey, you know, uh... I think Angela and I are cool now. We talked, and I think...
BRENNAN: (Her phone rings and she answers.) Brennan.
BOOTH: You know what? Just keep it to yourself.
BRENNAN: We’ll be right there.
BOOTH: You can have all the fries you want. Pay for the bill, too.
HODGINS: ...to talk to you guys about...
BRENNAN: Thanks, Hodgins.
HODGINS: ...Angela.
(Cut to: Medico-Legal Lab. Brennan, Booth and Cam are walking through the lab.)
CAM: I was filing the DNA test I ran on Gary’s saliva.
BOOTH: Ah, it does match after all.
CAM: No, but I did double-check the semen’s sample from the victim’s skirt with the one on the floor and they do match. (She brings up an image of sperm on a large screen.) And according to the deterioration of the sperm tail, the ej*cul*te is from Friday night.
BOOTH: That must have been some happy hour.
BRENNAN: The night she was m*rder*d.
BOOTH: You can tell all that from their little tails?
CAM: Yes, and I can also tell that our man is probably of Asian descent.
BOOTH: Oh, by the way they swim.
CAM: No. From forty-two specific DNA sequences.
BOOTH: Yeah, probably more exact.
CAM: I’m not sure if that’s helpful. There are three billion Asian people in the world.
BRENNAN: But only one who works in the office.
BOOTH: And he was at Paradise Isle.
(Cut to: FBI Interrogation room, Booth is questioning Chip.)
BOOTH: We found the m*rder w*apon, Chip.
CHIP: A stapler?
BOOTH: Yep, a stapler. Picked it up in a dumpster behind your building.
BRENNAN: Someone threw it at her. We found some of Patty’s hair embedded in the slide, as well as a trace of blood.
CHIP: So, uh, what do you need from me? I’ll help any way I can. I liked Patty.
BOOTH: Enough to make love to her in the copy room on the floor?
CHIP: God, no. She was my boss.
BRENNAN: We also found semen on the floor of the copy room and on her skirt. The DNA showed it was from an Asian male. You’re the only person of Asian descent in the office, Chip.
BOOTH: Look at this. We have a, uh, court order here for your DNA. (Takes the court order out of his jacket and puts it on the table in front of Chip.)
CHIP: Okay, you’re right. I was sleeping with Patty, but I wanted to end it, so I had a couple drinks to get up my courage and went back to the office.
BOOTH: Then what happened?
CHIP: I told her we had to stop because we were going to get caught. She threatened to report me for sexual harassment if I didn’t keep sleeping with her. She was calling Gary to report me.
BOOTH: So you threw the stapler at her?
CHIP: It... hit her in the head a-and she just dropped.
BRENNAN: She had an aneurysm. You ruptured it.
CHIP: I didn’t know.
BOOTH: Then what?
CHIP: I...had to get rid of her. I...I panicked, dragged her into the hall, opened the elevator doors, and...shoved her down the shaft.
BOOTH: How?
CHIP: W-what do you mean, "how?"
(Cut to: The office building, Chip is trying to pry the elevator doors open. He is unsuccessful.)
CHIP: It must have been the adrenaline. Enough of that, you can lift a car, right?
(Booth pulls out his g*n and cocks the hammer back.)
BOOTH: Is this enough adrenaline for you?
CHIP: Okay.
(Chip tries again and then Brennan steps in to help. They are able to pry it open enough to fit a body through.)
BOOTH: Look at that—two people. Who’s helping you?
CHIP: No one. It was just me.
BOOTH: Somebody had to have helped you hold the doors open while you kicked her down the shaft.
CHIP: No.
BOOTH: Who are you protecting, Chipper?
BRENNAN: Booth, can you take the door?
(Booth holds the doors open.)
BOOTH: Got it, got it. All right.
(Brennan bends down and picks up a blue fingernail with a pair of tweezers.)
BOOTH: Okay, what is that?
BRENNAN: It looks like a piece of fingernail, blue nail polish.
(Cut to: FBI Interrogation room. Christine, with her blue fingernails, is being interrogated by Booth and Brennan.)
CHRISTINE: Chip tried to protect me?
BRENNAN: Yes.
CHRISTINE: That’s just like him, you know? Whenever I have too many calls on hold, he’d always answer the phone. He totally didn’t have to do that.
BOOTH: The best way for you to help him is to just tell me the truth.
CHRISTINE: Okay, well...we both have roommates...so...sometimes...we’d make love in the office. We were in the copy room and we thought we were alone, but Patty came back for something and she caught us, and she said she was going to report us. I mean, no one in the office could date. It was against company policy. She said we’d both be fired.
BOOTH: So you threw the stapler.
CHRISTINE: I-I was so sick of her sticking her nose in everything. Sh-she went over to the phone to report us to Gary, and...I threw the stapler. I didn’t, I didn’t mean to k*ll her. I just wanted to be with Chip. (She begins to cry heavily and Booth reaches over to hold her hand.)
(Cut to: Booth’s office at the FBI building. Brennan walks in to see Booth shining the leather on his new chair.)
BRENNAN: I see you got your throne.
BOOTH: That’s right. The chair.
BRENNAN: Looks nice. Another victory for the hive.
BOOTH: HR said you called.
BRENNAN: Yes, but I didn’t lie to them. I wouldn’t do that. (Sits down.)
BOOTH: Well, you must have said something because she didn’t even eat her cupcakes and the chair was here.
BRENNAN: No, I just told them why I felt it was important for you to have it, that’s all.
BOOTH: And, uh, why is that? Because even a mindless drone (lowers himself into the chair) ahhhh...deserves some perks?
BRENNAN: No, because of how important you are to them. I mentioned your dedication and courage and sensitivity.
BOOTH: Sensitivity?
BRENNAN: Yes, Booth. I mean, even today with that young woman who k*lled her boss, it’s very impressive. Anyway, I said that a chair is a good way to show the other employees in the office how much those qualities are valued.
BOOTH: Hmmm, well, it worked.
BRENNAN: I’ll never understand why you felt you had to lie to get the chair. I mean, you could have just told them about yourself on your own.
BOOTH: Well, because that would have been bragging, even though it was true. (He leans back, throws the towel he was shining the chair with at Brennan, and a snapping sound it heard.) Oh, ow.
BRENNAN: You okay?
BOOTH: Yeah, no, it was just...I think some of the padding in the back here is worn out. When I lean back, it’s... hits.
BRENNAN: So Agent Kelton overstated the attributes of the chair.
BOOTH: No, no, this thing is great, you kidding me? It’s a...even though it’s an antique, doesn’t tilt back...yet. And it smells like a three hundred pound dead guy.
BRENNAN: So you like it.
BOOTH: Are you’re kidding me? Love it. I’m not giving this baby up for anything, huh? (He touches the lever that raises and lowers the chair. He sinks down almost below the surface of his desk.) Uh-oh. You know, that little up and down thing is a little touchy. (Fade to black, another clanging sound.) Ow.
END
04x06 - The Crank in the Shaft
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A forensic anthropologist and a cocky FBI agent build a team to investigate death causes. And quite often, there isn't more to examine than rotten flesh or mere bones.
A forensic anthropologist and a cocky FBI agent build a team to investigate death causes. And quite often, there isn't more to examine than rotten flesh or mere bones.