01x10 - A Horrible Mind

[bunniefuu]

Sixteen years on the job ...

... and this is the most bizarre
thing I've ever seen.

It's a new one for me, too.

Cross-country runner found him
when she was training.

Thinks he might be a
professor at the university.

So, no ID yet?

No, we're working on it.

Auto-erotic?

I don't think so.
Too much v*olence.

No way is it su1c1de.

It's not a su1c1de.
You see the knots?

See how elaborate this is?

Where does this leave us now?

Up a tree.

Rust has spread to the tree.

This block and fall's
been here a while.

A pulley system.

Now what is that doing here?

Looks like trauma
from head to toe.

You think it was inflicted before
or after he was strung up?

Don't know...

yet.

Fabric and blood.

There's an awful lot of foot traffic
for such an out-of-the-way place.

The campus isn't far. Maybe the kids
come here to party, make out.

You got something, Speed?

Yeah, take a look at this.

Is that canine?

Some kind of animal sacrifice?
Weird cult?

It's in the same shape as our victim
mutilated and dead.

I got an ID.

Adam Metzger, cultural anthropologist.
Teaches at the university.

Well, he just took a permanent
sabbatical, didn't he?

Eyes open.
Implies he d*ed quickly.

But his wounds don't
make sense.

I've got signs of retinal burn.

You mean like
snow blindness?

Yeah.

How could he get snow
blindness in Miami?

His eyelids are glued open.

Somebody wanted to make
sure he saw something.

Or, based on the
damage to his retina ...

... saw nothing.

All right ...
one wound down.

Want to get started?

Yeah.

Puncture wounds, six inches deep.
Size and shape of an ice pick; nine total.

Twelve-inch contusions indicating
blunt force: eight such wounds.

One- to two-inch cuts.
Could be a razor blade...

fourteen of those.

Are those needle marks?

Puncture wounds.
You said you were thinking cult?

Maybe. Maybe like a
life-size voodoo doll.

Counting those as one, we have a total
of sixty-two wounds, all antemortem.

All that blood, and yet he didn't
die of exsanguination, did he?

No. No, whoever k*lled him managed
to avoid every major blood vessel.

Sixty-two wounds, and not
one of them meant to k*ll him.

Cause of death
was asphyxiation.

So, he was mutilated
for who knows how long.

This looks to be one
of the oldest wounds.

Antemortem abrasions have
four stages of healing:

Scab formation,
epithelial regeneration,

hyperplasia, and regression
of granulation tissues.

These scrapes were at
the second stage.

So, his body went through four
to six hours of healing.

Or four to six hours of t*rture.

Hey.
Hey.

How you doing?

Underwater recovery
called with a stinker.

Classic insurance job
with a twist, I'm sure.

Bring you back to the days when you
were drinking murky canal water...

and dining on rusty car parts?

Yeah, don't knock it. Underwater
recovery gets all the chicks.

No skid marks.

Which means it wasn't
an accident.

Which means somebody
probably pushed it in.

Eric Delko.

The man who went on
to bigger and better things.

Hey, how are you, man?

I'm still wet, man.

Yeah, you are.
Somebody called in a shadow?

Yeah.
This was what we got.

Windows wide open.
It looks, uh, it looks hinky.

Well, she sunk fast.

Silt layer's pretty thin.

Hasn't been here long.
Three, maybe four weeks.

Aren't you supposed to be on
the other side of the law now?

Why don't you get on the other side
of this car and help me out with this?

Yeah, no problem. Look, I'm ...
going to go secure the tow.

Bacteria's filled his body
with rancid gas.

Ah, guy's twice his
normal size.

Yeah, it's a trunk job.
It could be a mob hit.

Yeah, or drug related. We'll know
more once we get him out.

Yeah, could you see if there's any
more surprises in that trunk?

Yeah, we got to be really
careful with these guys.

It's really easy for them to burst.

Oh, whoa, Jerry, whoa!

Oh, relax!

Okay, I think I might have it.

Handcuff knot.

m*llitary.

Used to tie prisoners.
And professors.

A hundred and ninety-one
countries in the world,

seven-eighths of which
have armed forces.

Well, at least that narrows it.

Speed, what have you got?

DNA results from the
fabric at the tree.

The blood doesn't
match the professor's.

I don't know,
maybe it's our k*ller.

Or K*llers. We've got thirteen
different types of wounds here.

That means thirteen
different weapons.

Not yet identified.
Take a look at these.

What is that, a tattoo?

It's a contact burn;
look closer.

Streaming nuclei.

Those are micro-blisters normally
associated with an electrical burn.

Now, I thought taser,
but the marks are too large.

Maybe an electric baton?

Possibly.

What part of the body
are we looking at?

Scrotal sack.

Thirteen weapons, thirteen wounds...

thirteen different K*llers?

It's the appropriate number
for a cult, right?

People's feelings for the professor
ran pretty much hot or cold.

No in-betweens with that guy.

Start with his students.

Loved him, thought he was a genius.
Wish I could agree.

Okay, so that's where
the cold came in.

Look, I'm sorry to hear
that Adam was m*rder*d,

but in a way, I'm not surprised.

Why is that?

The guy was a whack job.

Hatred is inherent.

It is instinctual.

For every student that loved him,

there were two parents and another
professor who couldn't stand him.

He was as controversial
as they come.

Man is not man without hate.

Tell me more about his
extreme teaching methods.

Sure, let's see.

He came to class one
day dressed as h*tler.

Wrote serial numbers
on everyone's forearm.

A couple of weeks ago he brought in
a grand dragon of the KKK...

and a Colombian prison interrogator
to give guest lectures.

Pain moves us into the process of
becoming whole...

healthy.

The other day I walked
in he was showing some...

home movies. Slaughter, t*rture,
lynchings, you name it.

Pain is necessary.
Pain is vital ...

for survival.

We're going to need
to talk to his class.

On the way there now.

One more question, Dean.

How many students
did the professor have?

Thirteen.
Why?

Thirteen.

I have a very interesting
lesson plan for today, class.

It's called:
"How to take a DNA swab."

So who's going to be first?

Ned Sante,

you're here because we matched your DNA swab
to a piece of bloody fabric at the crime scene,

and that three of your fellow students
claimed you threatened to k*ll the professor.

I didn't want him dead, okay?

You just wanted to t*rture him.

It's not like that at all.

He was going to k*ll me.

I mean, not really.

I'm so freaking confused!

One minute, I ...

hated him so much.

Now I see it was just all
part of his lesson.

Part of his lesson?
You mean hanging 101?.

It was a mock lynching.

Metzger was making some point about
normal people following social norms.

You mean like the
Stanford Experiments?

My friends turned on me in,
like, two seconds.

Strip him.

That sounds degrading.

Did he treat other students badly?

His research papers won awards.

Ned, don't you think...

that a human being should have
greater value than a research paper?

This is not good.

Hello?

Excuse me.

Excuse me, but what
are you doing here?

Miss, miss ...
you in the sweater.

What are you guys doing here?

He had an open-door policy.
Plus, we all had keys.

Why didn't you mention this before?

Our relationship with our professor
is none of your business.

Okay. You want to tell me more
about this open-door policy?

Sometimes he needed
help typing up a paper.

Sometimes we would take his
laundry to the cleaners.

We were all really close.

Listen to this:

"No man chooses evil because it is evil.

He only mistakes it
for happiness." Wollstonecraft.

Why anyone needs to prove
that evil exists is beyond me.

Took us six hundred years
to classify sl*very as evil.

Got a lot of paper here
shredded for a pack rat.

Maybe he's got an
awful lot of secrets.

You got the bolt cutters
in the truck?

Nice.
Very nice.

Jade ... Honey,
stop there and photograph.

Circular fracture of the cranial vault.

So his head hit something.

Or something hit his head.

Adhesive tape...
something was here on the dash.

This car was stripped.
Not of its parts, but, uh, emptied out.

This guy was traveling light, too.
There's no wallet.

Maybe I can get an ID
from the VIN number.

You think he drove his
own car to his death?

I think somebody cracked
his skull to knock him unconscious,

shoved him in the trunk, and then
chauffeured him to a watery grave.

A wad of paper ...

$1.50 and a car key.

Oh ... this alters your theory, Delko.
Whoever drove him to his watery grave ...

Handed him the keys first.

Something happened
at that canal.

Neil Diamond CD.
Love songs.

Oh, now we know
why he was k*lled.

He was alive in there.

Eric Delko.

Yeah, go ahead.

Okay.
All right, thanks.

Autopsy concurs.

Cerebral anoxia and
ventricular tachycardia.

Death by drowning.

I'm going to run the blood.

I'm all over your toolmarks.

Sixty-two wounds and not one nicked
bone or cartilage for a nice toolmark.

An educated torturer.

I guess you're going to have to settle
for the old wound comparison.

All right.
Time to get medieval.

These tools don't
match the wounds.

And worse than that,
the blood on him is canine.

So what in the hell dug
into the professor?

Lorenzo Castanotto?

Call me Larry.
You guys found my car?

Yeah, Larry, we found your car at
the bottom of Snapper Creek Canal.

You know how it got there?

Somebody stole it.

I already got paid by the insurance.

Did you give the thief your car key?

You found the car key?

Inside the pocket of the
dead man stuffed in your trunk.

Hey, we haven't ID'd him yet, but maybe
you could help us out. Take a look.

Yeah, sure.

Be warned, he's a ...
a little bloated.

Oh, my god.

What's the matter, Larry?
You don't recognize him?

Mind if I take this, Larry?

No, you can't take my hula girl.

That's all right.
We'll come back with a warrant.

Knock yourself out.

See you later, Larry.

Who removes a hula girl from
their car right before it's stolen?

same guy that smacked our vic on the
head before he stuffed him in the trunk.

That's right.
Keep me posted.

All right.
Be safe.

Well, that looks
like a match, doesn't it?

Metzger tortured this dog, didn't he?

And then someone tortured him.

We need to figure out
who this dog belongs to.

How?

Hang on a minute.

Well, there you have it.

An identification microchip.

Lojack for dogs.

Ginny Taylor.

So now, her relationship with the professor
officially becomes our business. Good.

Fisher ran away like
three weeks ago.

I put up signs, you know.
I was just hoping that ...

Oh, my god.

Do you have any idea
how he got to the tree?

No, I can't think of ...

Somebody tortured him.

Tortured?

That's right,

and weapons that we found in the Professor's
house matched to the dog's wounds.

What are you saying?
Professor Metzger ... k*lled Fisher?

His artifacts were
under lock and key.

So he was the only one
who had access.

Ginny, the professor had a very serious
interest in human cruelty, didn't he?

The professor was a genius, okay?
And he taught us ...

About hatred.
Right?

It's more than that.

The professor proved to us
that v*olence is natural.

Without it humanity would become ...

unbalanced.

Ginny, was the professor
hurting you?

He ...
he was ...

He once asked me to kiss
his shoes and I did.

Who k*lled him?

I don't know.

Dug through recent teletypes
of local missing persons

and I found one guy that fits bloater
boy's general height and coloring.

Okay, and the mystery man is?

Doug Reid.

Now, he lived with a girlfriend who reported
him missing after the car was stolen.

We're trying to locate family members,
but in the meantime, the girlfriend is ...

Right on time.

That's the only picture I have left.
I ripped up most of the others.

You were living together, right?

Caroline, how long were you with him?

Really long ...
Like three months.

And he was so romantic.

You know that song,
"Sweet Caroline"?

By, um ...

Neil Diamond.

Yeah. He used to sing
that to me all the time,

and we were going
to go to Aruba...

but when he left, I figured all my hints about
vacations must have freaked him out.

What about enemies?

None.

As far as I know.

How's the autopsy
photo I brought?

It's not looking so
good for an I.D.

Wait a second.

Earplugs.

I wonder if they're custom.

Thank god for ears.

Pure cartilage.

Only thing on a bloater
that holds its shape.

That's right.

Hang on.

Reed Metal Works? Reed Metal Works,
that's Larry's place.

Larry?

Suffice it to say, Jade,
the world just got really small.

Hey, I've got my glass slipper.
Now where is my Cinderella?

Cremated yesterday.

No, come on,
you didn't do that to me.

Yeah.

Please don't tell me
you did that to me.

Hey.
Hey.

I tested for epithelials on the rope,

and no go, but I did just identify the
rope itself. It's Guadua Augustifolia.

That's bamboo.

Bicolor variety,
colombian bamboo.

Okay, well, the Dean did say the professor
had interesting guest lecturers, didn't he?

One of whom was a
Colombian prison interrogator,

which is just a really nice
way of saying "torturer."

t*rture can be interesting.
Let's bring him in.

Tell me about your
relationship with Metzger.

Señor barbosa, cuando fue la primera
vez que usted contacto al profesor?

Que tipo de relacion tenia
con el profesor?

Usted es una muy buena
estudiante, señorita.

She is not a student.
She's a police officer,

so I suggest you answer her questions
before you have to answer mine.

We're all his students ...

in one relationship or another.

So you do speak english.

The professor ...

did he suffer? Was he left in a ...
humiliating position?

This is about power for
someone like you.

A narcissistic fantasy in
which you degrade somebody...

until they lose their
identity and their soul.

Abuse is more than power.
It is ...

intimacy.

You'd be surprised at how attached
prisoners can get to their jailers ...

their teachers.

So you see yourself
as a teacher, is that it?

Teachers, parents, mentors.

It is how they
start to view us.

That's true.
But most of us, Señor,

arrive at that position through
respect and not force.

An intelligent assessment, lieutenant.
It is not what you do to people.

It's what you get them
to do for you.

Through pain?

Mental skill, not weapons
is your most important tool.

Yes, and it requires an enormous
amount of mental ability...

to slice someone up
and tie them in a tree.

I would agree.
I would ...

agree.

Take a look at those ...

Señor.

Are these an example of your skill?

I'm really sorry to disappoint you,
Lieutenant.

How's that?

Yo soy inocente.

The flexor tendons in his
hand are severed.

He couldn't even
pick up a pencil.

Let alone string a
man up in a tree.

A gift to the new
regime from the old,

I suppose, courtesy
of a machete.

t*rture the torturer.
It makes sense.

So he's not our k*ller.

Oye.

How'd the hula girl match up?

Dead on.

And speaking of the dead?

Doug is indeed Doug.

Okay.

So what's that?

A piece of paper Megan found in
bloater boy ... Doug's pocket.

A travel brochure.

Yeah, for Aruba.
Doug wasn't g*n-shy after all.

There's writing.

Directions.

"Take bus 15 to F.R."

F.R.?

Flip it over.

I don't know if I can without ripping it.
I'll try. Let's see.

Well, hello, Larry.

Officers.

What can I do you for?

Well, you can start by answering
a few more questions.

Yeah, we identified
the body in your trunk...

and it turns out he used to
work for Reed Metal Works, too.

We also found your name on a
deposit slip inside the guy's pocket.

I don't know what
you're talking about.

Insurance fraud gets two to six.

m*rder's quite a bit more.

Okay, yes. Doug and I were going
to make some money on my car,

but I did not k*ll the guy,
I swear to god.

You got an alibi? Yeah.
I was at the dog track, Flagstone Ridge.

I even paid with a credit card,
you can check it out.

That's handy.
I swear, Doug was my friend.

I would have no reason
whatsoever to k*ll the guy.

Is that right?

Hey. Go home.
Get some rest.

I can't.

At this point I'm addicted.

What do you got?

"The experiments with the dog
exceeded my expectations.

Standing under the tree taking notes
I could feel my assistant breaking."

So maybe torturing the dog was
designed to t*rture someone else.

I actually felt sorry for this guy.

All right, so they all did things for him,
but who was the assistant?

Maybe the person that
shredded all these notes.

Or maybe whoever it was that
typed them up in the first place.

Computer keyboard has at
least twenty-six places.

Yes, for nervous hands
to leave sweaty fingerprints.

Maybe there are more t*rture
items than in the closet.

There's no prints on the keyboard.

Everything's wiped down.

Okay, folks,
this is what I think happened.

I don't think the assistant
was wiping down for prints.

I think the assistant was
wiping down for blood.

And there is the six-inch ice pick.

There's no way that's
more than five inches.

Metzger's body must've caved
under the thrust of it.

Leading naturally to an
overestimate on the w*apon.

Hey, you might want
to take a look at this.

Okay.

Maybe the retinal
damage was caused ...

by staring in the incandescent
light for a hundred copies.

Well, that would explain the
Miami Snow blindness, wouldn't it?

I found Metzger's eye opener.
Super glue

That ...
is a death mask.

Too bad the k*ller didn't
leave a picture of himself.

Or herself.

Wait a minute.

Shine your light right there.

It's cotton.

Who wears cotton sweaters
in eighty degrees?

Yes?

Hi, Teresa, I have a
warrant for your taser.

Taser?

Look, there's, uh,
two ways we can do this.

Thanks.

Clever.

Hey.
Hey.

So ...

we got an accident
reconstruction program.

Yeah, but the two people
who look guilty have air-tight alibis...

and somehow, my vic got in his car
and that car went in the river.

Okay.

Now, the center of gravity is forward
because of the engine and the slope.

But when I run the
coefficient of friction,

even with Doug in the trunk,
the car doesn't move.

What was the condition
of the ground that night?

I programmed
it in as rocks and dirt.

Rocks and dirt.

Wet or dry?

I'll check the weather report.

Let's do that.

There was a hard
rain that night.

Love those computers, but it's always
better to see the crime in context.

So, I'll be Doug, okay?

So, my plan is to dump the car,

I take my buck-50,
I hop on bus 15 back to Kendell,

return the key to Larry, collect my money,
and purchase a vacation for my girlfriend.

So, he tries to dump the car,
but ends up in the trunk instead.

Let's find out why.

Okay. Um ...

The car's in neutral ...

and the emergency break is off.

Mud slippage changes the coefficient of
friction from point seven to point three.

So you, Doug, get out of the car
and is about to push it in.

When I go to the trunk to open it.
Why?

Neil Diamond.

You're right.
You're right.

I'm a hopeless romantic and
I'm listening to "Sweet Caroline" ...

while I'm preparing to take
a vacation with my own Caroline.

So ...

You open the trunk,

but can't reach
behind the cd changer.

Okay, so I climb in ...

And slip ...
Wait a minute.

There's your blunt-force
trauma right there.

Things we do for love.

Metzger was a very demanding man,
wasn't he, Teresa?

Everyone thought he was a genius.

They thought he was funny
and inspiring.

But he wasn't on a mission
to t*rture them, was he?

What do you mean?

I think you know.

Over the course of the last year
he broke you down.

He took a happy,
healthy young woman

and turned her into a
destructive creature, didn't he?

No.

No?
Take a look at your arms.

I respected him so much.

And that's what he depended on.

He started with the dog.

Who am I to correct a professor?

Teresa, we matched burn marks
on the professor to your taser.

Why would I do that?

This is what you call writing?!

You're a mental defective,
do you understand me?!

You've got no brains at all!
You're a trust-fund-baby bimbo!

Shut up!
Shut up!

Huh?
Am I a moron?!

We have also matched his
lacerations to the staple remover.

So you walked him out to the woods,

filled with anger and adrenaline,
and strung him up in the tree.

Come on! Take it off!
Right now!

Okay!
Strip off.

I would imagine that
the worst part for you...

was finding out that you'd
been an experiment all along.

Had I known that I was a test,

that he didn't mean all
those things that he said,

I wouldn't have snapped.

But I'm glad he's dead.

After six hours of t*rture,
I bet he is, too.