COLD OPEN:
[EXT. VARIOUS LAS VEGAS CITY (STOCK) - NIGHT]
CUT TO:
[INT. HOTEL MONACO - HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT]
(Camera close up of a tumbler. Someone drops three ice cubes and pours the rest of the vodka from the bottle into the glass.)
(He picks up the glass and walks around the room. He sits on the bed and drinks from his glass.)
(He stands up and walks into the bathroom to stand in front of the foggy mirror. He uses the back of his hand to wipe it clear. He stares at himself and sighs.)
(He turns around.)
CUT TO:
[INT. HOTEL MONACO - HALLWAY -- NIGHT]
(GRISSOM turns the corner to the hotel hallway and makes his way to the officer who stands just outside the hotel room door. The OFFICER signals GRISSOM inside the room.)
[HOTEL ROOM -- CONTINUOUS]
(GRISSOM walks into the room. BRASS is inside with two other OFFICERS. He looks at GRISSOM.)
Brass: Oh ... you're going to love this.
(BRASS pulls out a cloth from his pocket to open the bathroom door. They look inside.)
[BATHROOM -- CONTINUOUS]
(At the far end of the bathroom, is a tub ... with the dead body inside.)
Brass: Ring any bells? Rub-a-dub-dub, dead man in a tub.
(BRASS and GRISSOM step into the bathroom. GRISSOM puts his kit down near the door.)
Brass: Sleeping bag for easy cleanup. Open window so the stench alerts the neighbors.
(GRISSOM looks around.)
Grissom: It's Royce Harmon all over again.
(Quick flashes of: A sh*t of the chest b*llet wound. Flash to: The revolver in the man's left hand.)
Grissom: What do you think? "su1c1de" note in the same place?
(GRISSOM steps forward.)
Brass: You tell me, Karnak.
(GRISSOM cautiously look, reaches out and finds the tape recorder clutched in the body's right hand. He takes it and looks at it.)
Brass: Now, that's weird.
Grissom: Not weird. Intentional.
(GRISSOM presses play.)
Recorded Voice: (from tape) ... narl loop sair momoph reet reet seer pute narfenging ...
(GRISSOM shuts it off.)
Brass: What kind of language is that? Swedish?
Grissom: It's backward.
(GRISSOM thinks about it for a moment, then turns around to look at BRASS.)
Grissom: Would you excuse me a minute?
Brass: (nods) Sure. Okay.
(BRASS steps out of the bathroom and closes the door behind him.)
[INT. HOTEL MONACO - MAIN ROOM - NIGHT -- CONTINUOUS]
(BRASS shuts the door.)
Officer Arvington: He okay in there?
Brass: Quincy wants to be alone. We had a case like this three months ago -- a guy found dead in his bathtub. Turned out the su1c1de was staged. Found a mini-recorder as a su1c1de note.
(BRASS turns to look at the closed bathroom doors.)
Brass: k*ller may have struck again.
Officer Arvington: Why does he want to be alone?
(BRASS looks at OFFICER ARVINGTON.)
Brass: He wants to get his mojo working.
CUT TO:
[INT. HOTEL MONACO - BATHROOM - NIGHT -- CONTINUOUS]
(GRISSOM turns the tape recorder on and plays it backward, then flips the switch to play it forward.)
Recorded Voice: Man on mini-recorder: My name is Stuart Rampler. I reside at
818 Noeing Hill Court, Las Vegas, Nevada. I am 43 years of age, and I'm going to k*ll myself. I just can't do it anymore. I love you, mom.
(He shuts the recorder off and stands there a moment. He turns to look at his reflection in the mirror.)
Grissom: You're back.
HARD CUT TO END OF TEASER ROLL TITLE CREDITS.
(COMMERCIAL BREAK)
FADE IN.
[INT. CSI - HALLWAY -- NIGHT]
(GRISSOM walks into the hallway reading the assignment sheets in one hand; the bagged tape recorder in the other. He looks up and sees SHIBLEY walking toward him.)
Grissom: Shibley, take this recorder to the print lab.
(GRISSOM hands the tape recorder to SHIBLEY, then continues down the hallway.)
Grissom: Have Manny dust it and run prints on it right away.
(SHIBLEY gives GRISSOM a large envelope.)
Shibley: Photos from tonight's su1c1de. Put a "rush" on them for you.
Grissom: Photos. Thank you.
(GRISSOM walks down the hallway and stops when he hears what sounds like a football game whistle coming from the break room. He looks inside.)
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI -- BREAK ROOM - NIGHT -- CONTINUOUS]
(WARRICK and NICK play a video football game.)
Nick: Oh! Warrick: Throw the flag, ref! NICK: Uncatchable, bro.
(GRISSOM walks into the break room.)
Grissom: (irritated) Hey! You guys want an assignment slip or a pink slip?
(WARRICK stands up; NICK shuts the game off and also stands up.)
Warrick: Just taking a little coffee break.
Nick: Is it true?
Warrick: Same guy?
Grissom: (calmer) I don't know. We'll see. Here. 410. Reckless driver out at Hoover Dam. Car went over a cliff. Anonymous caller. Could be foul play.
(GRISSOM gives WARRICK the assignment sheet.)
Warrick: Oh, me and him, working together? Oh, it's on.
Nick: You're going down, bro.
(WARRICK hands the sheet to NICK. The two gearing up for the challenge ahead.)
Grissom: (irritated) Hey! Work together tonight. All right?
(WARRICK nods demurely. GRISSOM leaves the room. Once his back is turned, NICK and WARRICK look at each other and smile ... gearing up for the challenge ahead.)
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - GRISSOM'S OFFICE -- NIGHT]
(GRISSOM walks into the office.)
Grissom: Okay, we're going off the board tonight.
Sara: Off the board?
Catherine: "The ones that got away." Fish.
Sara: Ah. I missed that one.
(GRISSOM stands in front of the large fish-shaped corkboard and takes down some photographs.)
Grissom: First victim, Royce Harmon. About three months ago, Brass and I found this guy dead in his own bathtub, but his "su1c1de" was staged. I think the k*ller has k*lled again.
(He hands the photos to SARA.)
Grissom: Photos of tonight's victim: Stuart Rampler. Play the "pick six things that are different" game. Bet you lose.
(CATHERINE looks at the photos.)
Sara: This guy's good.
Catherine: Not good. Exceptional. Print examiner lifted a thumbprint off the mini-recorder near the tub of our first victim. The print came back this.
(CATHERINE looks around GRISSOM'S office and finds the fake hand. She shows it to SARA.)
Grissom: The k*ller purchased one of these rubber hands laced the fingertips with cooking spray and proceeded to place false prints all around the crime scene.
Sara: This guy is good. Whose prints are these?
Grissom: Some guy who works in a warehouse making Halloween paraphernalia. Scary masks, air-brushed tombstones, rubber hands. Turns out he used his own hand for the mold.
Catherine: So what do we do?
Grissom: We split up. You and I go to the coroner. Sara, you go to the hotel. Dust every inch of that bathroom. Here. Use this --
(GRISSOM reaches for a container on the shelf. He gives it to SARA.)
Grissom: "Red Creeper." My own concoction.
Sara: (impressed) Wow.
Grissom: Well, serious case, serious print powder. Be thorough. Don't take anything for granted.
Sara: Yes, sir.
(SARA leaves the office.)
(CATHERINE and GRISSOM also leave the office.)
CUT TO:
[EXT. HOOVER DAM - CRASH SITE - NIGHT]
(NICK and WARRICK enter the crash site. Emergency crew work on the car.)
Warrick: Everyone still breathing in that car?
Paramedic: So far.
Nick: Call came in blind. You see who could have made it?
Paramedic: No. We were first on the scene. Fire department came in two minutes behind. Place was dead quiet.
(The fire department crew cut the top off of the car. They start working on the unconscious man in the back seat of the car.)
Warrick: Where's the driver? He get thrown?
Officer: Didn't find anybody.
(NICK and WARRICK look up above where the car fell.)
Nick: I'm thinking DUI.
Warrick: You calling it?
(NICK looks around on the ground and finds something.)
Nick: I'm calling that beer bottle.
(NICK uses a pen and picks it up to look at it.)
Warrick: How you know it's from the car?
Nick: It's still cold. Foam in the bottle. Take it up top?
Warrick: After you ...
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - FORENSIC AUTOPSY -- NIGHT]
(DR. ROBBINS pulls the body out of storage. He goes over the body with GRISSOM and CATHERINE.)
Dr. Albert Robbins: I've read Klausbach's report on Royce Harmon the first staged su1c1de.
Grissom: Similarities?
Dr. Albert Robbins: Well, based on the entry wound, they were both m*rder*d. But here's where it gets fun.
(DR. ROBBINS shows them the wound on the back of STUART RAMPLER'S left hand.)
Catherine: That looks like he was sh*t trying to protect himself.
Grissom: What else, Doc? My mind is painting.
Dr. Albert Robbins: He was paid a little visit from Mr. Muzzle stamp.
(DR. ROBBINS shows them the bruise on the temple.)
(Quick flashback to: The g*n is against STUART RAMPLER'S temple. End of flashback. Resume to present.)
Catherine: Forced into the tub at gunpoint?
Grissom: Okay. Let's play it out.
(GRISSOM turns around. The clock behind GRISSOM reads 4:35pm.)
Grissom: The k*ller's got him at gunpoint, right? Standing over him like this.
(Quick flashback to: STUART RAMPLER puts his hand up to block the g*nsh*t.)
Stuart Rampler: No!!
(Quick CGI that follows the b*llet as it pierces through flesh. End of CGI. End of flashback. Resume to present.)
Grissom: But this time, things got messy. Royce Harmon didn't fight back. That's why there was no muzzle bruising to his temple.
Catherine: Stuart Rampler was resistant. He didn't want to get into that tub too easily. He took a few jabs to the temple.
Grissom: But the k*ller just lost round one. We know how he gets his vics into the tub and we know that both deaths were homicides.
Catherine: Not a bad start.
CUT TO:
[EXT. HOOVER DAM OVERLOOK - TOP -- DAWN]
(WARRICK stands at the top of the overlook near the broken railing. NICK measures the tire marks on the road.)
Nick: The skid start way up the road. I got him doing at least 70.
Warrick: More like 80.
Nick: These grooves are from the car's frame. It balanced before it fell.
(NICK looks a the shoe prints in the dirt.)
Nick: This is where he bailed. Wide spacing, slipping of the heel. He ran.
(WARRICK takes a photo.)
Warrick: Who?
Nick: The phantom driver.
(Quick flashback to: [NICK'S VERSION] Inside the moving car.)
Walter Banglor: Hey, hand me another beer.
Phantom Driver: No, you've had enough.
(The car heads straight for the truck. Its horn blares. The car swerves.)
Phantom Driver: Hey, hey...!
(Tires squeal. The car crashes through the railing and teeters on the edge of the embankment, its engine still running. The PHANTOM DRIVER bails. The Drunk Backseat Passenger, WALTER BANGLOR, stays in the car as it topples over and off the cliff.)
(The PHANTOM DRIVER runs away. WALTER BANGLOR screams as the car falls down the ravine.)
(End of flashback. Resume to present.)
Warrick: So your drunk driver just got out and ran away?
(NICK looks at WARRICK and nods.)
Warrick: Where to?
Nick: I don't know. That's why we're up here. But he left his buddy hanging out to dry. I can tell you that.
(WARRICK points to the tire marks on the roadway behind NICK.)
Warrick: Then how do you explain car number two?
Nick: Driver ran to this point, car picks him up. Here are your tracks ... probably took him to the hospital.
Warrick: Not if we have these.
(WARRICK looks down at the tracks in the dirt.)
Warrick: They're kind of out of place. A walking stride up to the edge.
(WARRICK takes a couple of photos.)
Warrick: No. This is a crime, not an accident.
Nick: You care to back that statement up? My phantom driver against your criminal?
Warrick: How much?
Nick: Fifty.
Warrick: I don't get out of bed for less than a bill.
(NICK laughs and they shake on it.)
CUT TO:
[INT. HOTEL MONACO - BATHROOM -- DAY]
(SARA walks into the hotel room bathroom carrying her kit. She meets up with DET. B. EVANS.)
Sara: Hey, Evans.
Det. Evans: Hi.
(SARA puts her kit and things down.)
Det. Evans: Victim's name is Stuart Rampler. Lives in town reserved a room for one night because his house was being fumigated.
Sara: Hmm. Find anything unusual?
Det. Evans: I bagged a couple of utility bills.
(He moves to the side and picks up a bag of bills and shows it to SARA.)
Det. Evans: Ready for mail. It's almost as if he wanted to take care of some unfinished business before he checked out.
(SARA takes the mail out of the bag and goes through the bills.)
Sara: Well, it's not likely. His su1c1de was staged.
(She notices something.)
Det. Evans: It's an upside-down stamp. What does that mean?
Sara: I don't know.
SHORT TIME CUT TO:
[INT. HOTEL MONACO - BATHROOM - DAY]
(SARA uses the Red Creeper on the bathroom pipes.
Sara: (impressed) Wow. This stuff rocks. I love bathrooms. Last time I printed a hotel bathroom, I had over 1,000 prints.
(SARA continues to dust the tub. She finishes.)
Sara: Okay ... close the doors and hit the lights, daddy-O.
(EVANS closes the bathroom doors and turns the lights off. SARA uses her ALS and can't believe her findings.)
Sara: Not a single print.
Det. Evans: He wiped it clean.
Sara: Yeah. This guy's a real pro. Not only did he wipe it clean -- it's sterile.
FADE TO BLACK.
(COMMERCIAL BREAK)
FADE IN.
[INT. PAIGE HARMON'S RESIDENCE - LIVING ROOM -- MORNING]
(GRISSOM and CATHERINE interview PAIGE HARMON.)
Paige Harmon: I thought you were going to tell me that you caught him.
Grissom: Mrs. Harmon, we believe that the person who did this to your son may have done it to someone else and we need your help.
Paige Harmon: Well, what can I do?
Catherine: We talked to the second victim's girlfriend -- played his su1c1de recording for her. She confirmed that it was his voice.
Paige Harmon: But I already told you that the voice on that tape was not my son's.
Catherine: I know. We just need to be absolutely certain. Do you have a recording of your son's voice so that we could tie the killings together?
Grissom: Anything, Mrs. Harmon -- a home movie? A recorded message off your answering machine?
Paige Harmon: All I have are pictures.
(She remembers something.)
Paige Harmon: I may have something.
(She stands up and picks up a picture frame.)
Paige Harmon: Royce gave this to me for mother's day last year. (GRISSOM stands up.) It's a talking frame. It's all I have left.
Royce Harmon: Hey, mom, it's Royce. I know you're always complaining you don't hear my voice in the house anymore. Well, now you can listen to it anytime you want. I love you, mom.
Paige Harmon: (softly): I love you, too.
CUT TO:
[INT. HOSPITAL - HALLWAY -- DAY]
(WARRICK and NICK walk with DR. LEEVER down the hospital hallway.)
Nick: Mr. Backseat going to make it?
Dr. Leever: Name's Walter Banglor. He'll live.
Nick: He well enough to talk?
Dr. Leever: Subdural hematoma, compound rib fractures ...
Nick: All right, all right, I get the picture. How long until we can see him?
Dr. Leever: I didn't say you couldn't see him.
(DR. LEEVER turns and leads NICK and WARRICK into the hospital room.)
[HOSPITAL ROOM]
(He pushes the curtain aside.)
Dr. Leever: He's sedated. If you want to talk to him you're going to have to wait until he comes off his meds in about 12 to 24 hours.
(NICK sighs. WARRICK looks at WALTER BANGLOR.)
Warrick: Tan lines, no watch and no ring.
Nick: Check his personal effects.
(WARRICK picks up the envelope and checks its contents. He spills it out onto the table. A wallet falls out.)
Nick: That's it?
Warrick: Must have been one hell of a fall to knock his watch and his ring off ...
(WARRICK shows NICK the empty wallet.)
Warrick: ... and take his money.
(NICK thinks about it.)
Warrick: So what do you say? Do you want to up the stakes another hundred?
(DR. LEEVER looks over at NICK.)
Nick: To what, a deuce?
Warrick: (shrugs) Say my foul play against your phantom driver?
Nick: You bet.
(They seal the deal with a hand "shake". DR. LEEVER watches and shakes his head, a half-smile on his face.)
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - DNA LAB -- MORNING]
(SARA tests the "upside-down" stamp.)
Greg Sanders: Okay ... I've got Stuart Rampler's DNA profile ready. All I need is something to compare it to.
Sara: Coming right up. Let's see if we can find out who this Licker is.
(SARA hands the sample vial to GREG. He puts it in the machine and switches it on.)
(Short time cut later: The results print out. GREG looks at it.)
Sara: What do you got?
Greg Sanders: Well, according to the DNA Stuart Rampler licked the right-side-up stamps.
Sara: What about the envelope with the upside-down stamp?
Greg Sanders: Well, it came back unknown.
Sara: (thoughtful) He's toying with us.
Greg Sanders: Who?
Sara: Anonymous.
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - GARAGE -- MORNING]
(WARRICK walks into the garage to find NICK fuming the entire car.)
Warrick: Supergluing the entire car? It's a little excessive, don't you think?
Nick: Hey, man, this is w*r.
Warrick: (chuckling) You know, I checked with six different medical centers, and no phantom driver at any of them.
Nick: (waves it away) Minor setback. How about the 911 call?
Warrick: Las Vegas cell phone. PD's putting a name to it.
Nick: Good.
Warrick: What's all this?
Nick: Car was rented from the airport three days ago.
Warrick: To ... ?
Nick: Walter Banglor. I figure Vegas vacation; side trip to Hoover Dam.
Warrick: Makes sense.
Nick: Mm-hmm.
Warrick: You find his watch and ring?
Nick: (grudgingly admits) No.
Warrick: (laughing) my pockets are getting fat!
Nick: No, he travels light. There was only a change of clothes in the damn suitcase.
Warrick: God, you see all that money in there?
Nick: All right, the fumes have settled. Give me a hand.
Warrick: Yeah.
(They lift the plastic sheet off of the car. NICK sees the prints on the wheel.)
Nick: You can run ... but you can't hide.
(Camera cuts to the prints on the dashboard.)
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - HALLWAY -- DAY]
(CATHERINE and GRISSOM walk through the hallway.)
Catherine: "Disco Placid" -- what's that?
Grissom: He's a jazz producer. Specializes in audio. Does voice comparisons for me from time to time. He hears in perfect pitch.
Catherine: Really?
Grissom: He's gifted.
CUT TO:
[INT. BASEMENT - AUDIO ROOM -- DAY]
(DISCO PLACID sits behind his equipment listing to the music on the ear phones and timing it with the watch in his hand. Song overhead is "Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone", by Bill Whithers.)
(GRISSOM and CATHERINE walk up to the doorway behind him.)
Disco Placid: (sings along) Yeah, better leave young thing alone / but ain't no sunshine when she's gone.
(He sees them and smiles. He takes off his earphones.)
Grissom: I'm sorry to hear that.
Disco Placid: Oh, that's Bill Withers, man. The man cuts me up inside.
Grissom: Catherine Willows, Disco Placid.
Catherine: A pleasure.
Disco Placid: A pleasure.
Lyric: Ain't no sunshine when she's gone...
Grissom: How are we coming with our voice comparisons?
Disco Placid: Got it right here. All I got to do is, uh, heat this thing up. It's a mini-cassette recording of the first victim.
Royce Harmon: (on tape) I'm going to k*ll myself.
Disco Placid: Comparing the "I love you's..."
Royce Harmon: (on tape) I just can't do it anymore. I love you, mom.
Disco Placid: Now the talking frame.
Royce Harmon: (on tape) Now you can listen to it anytime you want. I love you, mom.
Disco Placid: Minnesota Twins.
Catherine: The mother was wrong. That is her son's voice.
Disco Placid: I laid in both su1c1de notes in the computer, stripped the tracks one by one. Picked this up in the b-ground.
(He plays the tape for them.)
Royce Harmon: (on tape) My name is Royce Harmon. I reside at 7642 carpenter street, Las Vegas, Nevada. I am 41 years of age.
Grissom: What is that?
Disco Placid: I don't know, man. It sound like a flag or a tarp or something. Give me a sec. I'll give it to you in a chinese to-go box.
Catherine: Play the second victim's tape.
Disco Placid: Okay.
Stuart Rampler: (on tape) My name is Stuart Rampler. I reside at 818 Boeing Hill Court, Las Vegas ...
(He turns the tape off. Behind them, GRISSOM pulls out a sheet of paper and waves it making the same sound as the one on the tape recordings.)
Catherine: No. Play it through.
Stuart Rampler: ... Nevada. I am 43 years of age, and I'm going to k*ll myself.
Grissom: Play them side by side.
Both Recordings: My name is Royce Harmon / Stuart Rampler / I reside at 818
Boeing Hill / 7642 Carpenter Street. Las Vegas, Nevada. I am 41/43 years of age.
Grissom: It's "fill in the blanks."
Catherine: He's just reading from a su1c1de script.
(Again, GRISSOM waves the sheet of paper around.)
Catherine: What do you think?
Disco Placid: (smiles) Disco.
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - PRINT LAB -- MORNING]
(NICK and WARRICK walk into the print lab. MANDY doesn't look up from the scope.)
Mandy: So I've got some good news and mysterious news.
Nick: Give me the good news.
Mandy: Well, your results are back from the prints on the car. And your vic, Walter Banglor, is top of the list.
Nick: It's a big list.
Mandy: You fumed the entire car. What did you expect?
Warrick: What's the mysterious news?
Mandy: I found some speckles of blue dust in the ridges of Banglor's print. Here. Look it.
(She steps aside from the scope. WARRICK looks at it.)
Nick: Let me see.
(WARRICK moves aside and NICK looks at the scope.)
Warrick: What do you think?
Nick: I have no idea.
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - BREAK ROOM -- DAY]
(SARA fills GRISSOM and CATHERINE in on what she's found.)
Sara: I did some comparative digging on both victims -- Royce Harmon and Stuart Rampler. Both are white males in their 40s, single and ... both have the same birthday.
Grissom: Royce Harmon, born August 17, 1958. Stuart Rampler, born August 17, 1957. One year apart.
Catherine: Okay, so maybe it's some reverse or backwards pattern. August 17, 1958 ... 1957. The su1c1de message was recorded backwards; the postage stamp was upside-down ...
Sara: Yeah.
Grissom: Maybe he's telling us, in order to go forward, go back. Sara, go back one more year -- August 17, 1956. See if anything pops up with the same M.O.
Sara: I'm gone.
(SARA leaves the office. MANDY appears in the doorway.)
Mandy: Mr. Grissom, the prints are back from Stuart Rampler's mini-recorder.
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - PRINT LAB - CONTINUOUS]
(CATHERINE and GRISSOM walk into the lab where MANDY sits in front of the computer.)
Grissom: Can we see the print?
Mandy: Not print-- prints.
Catherine: What do you mean? It's more than one person?
Mandy: It's two thumbprints overlapped.
Grissom: Can you separate them?
Mandy: Yeah. Running both prints through AFIS.
(The first print comes back "UNKNOWN". The second print comes back
"COMPLIANCE".)
Mandy: How can that be?
(MANDY works on the keyboard and stands up to look at the printout.)
Catherine: "Compliance"?
Grissom: Someone within the department?
(MANDY looks at the results, then glances at CATHERINE. She looks at GRISSOM.)
Grissom: What?
Mandy: Uh, Catherine, can you excuse us for a moment? I need to speak with Mr. Grissom in private.
(CATHERINE glances at GRISSOM.)
Grissom: Anything you have to say to me you can say to her.
Mandy: Well, the top print came back Paul Millander.
Grissom: I expected that. He's the guy who makes the rubber hands. I've already cleared him. What about the compliance -- the bottom print?
Mandy: It came back you.
Catherine: It's Grissom's print?
(MANDY nods.)
Catherine: Wait a minute. Somebody got ahold of your prints.
Grissom: How? I wear gloves at every crime scene. I was printed for the job. We all were.
Catherine: Well, somebody's obviously making this personal. They could've got your print from a glass that you touched at a restaurant. From a latex glove that you discarded and they turned inside out ...
(CATHERINE sighs.)
Catherine: Oh, god ...
(GRISSOM thinks about it and something occurs to him. He looks at the monitor, the one print over the other.)
Grissom: I get it. Whoever it is is telling me that he's got me under his thumb.
FADE TO BLACK.
(COMMERCIAL BREAK)
FADE IN.
[INT. CSI - BREAK ROOM -- DAY]
(NICK is in the break room reading something. WARRICK walks in.)
Warrick: So ... who's your phantom driver?
Nick: Possibly a cop from Philly. Or a ... a nurse from Omaha. Don't forget the mail carrier from Nashville. (NICK laughs as he looks at the list of names.)
Warrick: Man, it's a rental. Those prints are probably older than you are.
Nick: Well, this is going nowhere.
Warrick: You giving up?
Nick: No, no, no, no. We're still on. I may be stalled, but I'm not out.
Warrick: You want to take it to three?
Nick: You want to take it to three?
(They agree and seal the deal by knocking knuckles.)
Nick: You still think he was robbed?
Warrick: Tan lines where his ring and watch used to be. On vacation in Vegas, but no money in his wallet. His face all bruised up before he took that cliffside tumble. Damn right, I think he was robbed.
(Quick flashback to: [WARRICK'S VERSION] A man runs out into the street to flag down the moving car.
Motorist: Hey!
(Inside the car, WALTER BANGLOR puts the bottle down to brake.)
Motorist: Hey!
(The car swerves and crashes through the railing and stops halfway over the edge of the hill. WALTER BANGLOR leans back in his seat.)
(The front door opens and the MOTORIST
Motorist: You all right, man?
Walter Banglor: Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.
(The MOTORIST pulls a g*n on WALTER BANGLOR.)
Motorist: I want the ring, the watch and all your cash.
Walter Banglor: Okay, all right.
Motorist: Come on.
Walter Banglor: All right, all right.
(He hands over money, watch and ring.)
Motorist: Now get your ass in the back.
Walter Banglor: What?
Motorist: I said get your ass in the back!
(WALTER BANGLOR crawls into the back seat.)
Motorist: Strap in.
Walter Banglor: Okay.
(He straps himself in. The MOTORIST runs around to the back of the car and pushes it over.)
Walter Banglor: What are you doing?
(End of flashback. Resume to present.)
Nick: He lays in wait, he robs him, he tries to k*ll him, but he lets him buckle in?
Warrick: I don't think the robber expected Banglor to get drunk and go crash his car. He probably freaked and put him in the back seat trying to fool me into thinking someone else was driving. But he only fooled you.
Nick: What about the blue dust, Warrick?
Warrick: What about it?
Nick: Don't you think it matters?
Warrick: Maybe. There's other questions to answer first.
Nick: Okay, like?
Warrick: Footprints and tire tracks.
Nick: (nods and whispers) I hate you.
Warrick: You love me. Who you kidding?
CUT TO:
[INT. HOLLOWEIRD - MAIN WAREHOUSE -- DAY]
(GRISSOM walks into the warehouse, looking for PAUL MILLANDER. In the back of the warehouse, PAUL MILLANDER is working on a sculture.)
Grissom: Mr. Millander?
Paul Millander: Hey, it's the forensics guy. I forgot your name. I-I'm sorry.
Grissom: Gil Grissom.
(They shake hands.)
Paul Millander: Hi, Mr. Grissom. It's been a couple of months. How are you, sir?
Grissom: I'm okay. What are you making?
(He turns the head around to show GRISSOM.)
Paul Millander: I-I-I call it ... "Good versus Evil." You like it?
Grissom: Yeah, it reminds me of our supervisor on days.
Paul Millander: So, what brings you down to my humble abode?
Grissom: I have a couple of questions regarding that staged su1c1de. Remember?
Paul Millander: Yeah. How's that going?
Grissom: Not too well.
Paul Millander: Say, w-would you like a cup of coffee? I got instant.
Grissom: Sure.
CUT TO:
[INT. HOLLOWEIRD -- BACKROOM -- DAY]
(PAUL MILLANDER walks in the back to get the coffee. GRISSOM follows him and looks around.)
Grissom: I envy you, Mr. Millander. I do. You can work by yourself ... no one around to bother you. You just ... do what you do. I'd love to have that kind of autonomy.
Paul Millander: It's really all I know. I ... started out doing ice carvings but the artwork never lasted.
(GRISSOM chuckles.)
Grissom: I know what you mean.
(PAUL hands GRISSOM his drink.)
Grissom: Thank you.
Paul Millander: Let's sit.
(They both sit down.)
Paul Millander: How can I help you?
Grissom: Do you remember the, uh, rubber hand mold that you made from your own hand?
Paul Millander: How could I forget?
Grissom: Well, whoever the perpetrator is has k*lled again. And again, your print came up. So I was hoping you could help me.
Paul Millander: Sure.
Grissom: The last time we talked, you told me that you had sold several thousand units last Halloween?
Paul Millander: Bestseller. Yes, sir.
Grissom: Could you provide me with a list of your distributors?
Paul Millander: I really don't have a list. Uh ... Why?
Grissom: I was hoping to do a credit card search ... go back ten days before the first m*rder occurred ... try and run some names ... see if any priors pop up.
Paul Millander: I would really love to help you, Mr. Grissom, but ... I just don't keep track of ... of individual purchasers. I-I-I'm just a wholesaler. I don't ... I don't crunch numbers. I-I just ... spook the children.
Grissom: Of course you do. I'm sure you do it well.
(GRISSOM leans back in his chair and takes a sip from his cup.)
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - RESEARCH ROOM -- DAY]
(WARRICK looks through a binder full of shoe prints. He flips the page and finds the match.)
Warrick: Finally.
(NICK walks into the room. He's eating an apple.)
Nick: Hey, partner, you get a match yet? Ooh! Converse all-star.
Warrick: Size 11.
Nick: And you needed all the books for that?
(NICK takes a seat.)
Nick: Those soles have been around 20 years.
Warrick: I needed to be sure.
Nick: You look tired, buddy. You want me to make you a bottle, go nigh-nigh?
Warrick: You want me to clack that jaw, make you go nigh-nigh?
Nick: (rubbing it in) You should have worked the tire tracks. Jimmy in trace put together a digital catalog of treads ... has thousands on file. Took me three minutes.
(NICK tosses the file folder onto the desk in front of WARRICK. WARRICK looks at the results.)
Warrick: Pirelli low profile p-zeros. High performance.
Nick: And standard on your alleged getaway vehicle ... the '99 Bentley Arnage, red label. It's a sweet ride, man -- handcrafted. So, how many people in Vegas you think drive that kind of price tag?
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - HALLWAY]
Brass: Three. Did a DMV search.
Warrick: Any reported stolen?
Brass: Yeah, one. Last week. It came in a couple of hours ago.
(BRASS holds up the photos.)
Brass: Take a look.
(He gives them the photos.)
Nick: Oh-ho! So sweet!
(WARRICK grabs a photo and compares it to the tire marks in the folder.)
Warrick: Check this. One-to-one says that's the car.
Brass: Yeah, well, don't bet the sub shop, Warrick. That's about all the evidence you're going to get out of the Bentley. We found it at a car wash off of warm springs. It's been vacuumed detailed -- the whole works. It's cleaner than brand-new.
(NICK smiles.)
Nick: Well, I wish Banglor's rental car company were as considerate as your thief.
(He slaps WARRICK on the back and chuckles as he leaves.)
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - GRISSOM'S OFFICE -- DAY]
(BRASS walks into GRISSOM'S office.)
Brass: Dr. Livingston. Your dead man is making cash withdrawals.
Grissom: Which one? The first victim or the second?
Brass: The second. Stuart Rampler. The bank called. His ATM card showed a couple of withdrawals after his time of death.
Grissom: (pleased) ATM machines take photographs every three seconds. Maybe we can get a Kodak moment of this guy. I want the machine here. I want prints. I want film. I want everything.
Brass: The whole machine?
Grissom: Yeah, the whole machine.
Brass: Okay.
(BRASS turns and leaves the office.)
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - EVIDENCE ROOM -- NIGHT]
(NICK goes over WALTER BANGLOR'S clothing. NICK finds a blue stain near the jean's button fly. He takes a sample of it just as WARRICK walks into the room.)
Warrick: You got his clothes?
Nick: That's right.
Warrick: What are you doing? His laundry?
(NICK holds up the swab.)
Nick: Something to compare our mystery blue dust to.
Warrick: Ah.
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - DNA LAB -- NIGHT]
(GREG starts testing the blue substance.)
Greg Sanders: So ... what's the pot up to?
Nick: (flatly) We don't bet on cases.
Greg Sanders: Ah. Of course you don't. So who's winning?
Warrick/Nick (both): I am.
Greg Sanders: Fiends.
(GREG puts the sample vial in the machine and runs it.)
(Short time cut to: The printer prints the results.)
Greg Sanders: Your mystery dust is ... silicon blue dye.
Warrick: What's that?
Greg Sanders: Pool cue chalk.
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - BREAK ROOM -- NIGHT]
(Inside the break room, NICK and WARRICK revamp their scenarios. WARRICK sits and listens as NICK stands, pacing the floor and playing with a football in his hand.)
Nick: Banglor's sh**ting stick with the phantom driver ... tosses a few back ... piles into the rental ... ...I-93, Hoover Dam. But don't drink and drive. You might spill your drink ... car skids ... bangs into the railing ...
(Quick flash to: [NICK'S THEORY] The car going through the railing. End of flashback. Resume to present.)
Nick: ... see-saws ...
(Quick flash to: The car teetering over the edge. End of flashback. Resume to present.)
Nick: ... on the edge ... what does the driver do? Man, he bails. He leaves Banglor in the back seat to take the fall.
(Quick flashback to: The PHANTOM DRIVER leaps over the railing and runs down the road. End of flashback Resume to present.)
Nick: Literally.
(Quick flashback to: The car falls down the ravine, WALTER BANGLOR inside, screaming. End of flashback Resume to present.)
Nick: Fingerprints, grooves, footprints: All the bases are covered. Victim, suspect, crime scene. Like a laxative ...
(Done, he tosses the foot ball to WARRICK, who catches it.)
Nick: It works.
(NICK sits down and exhales. WARRICK thinks about it and starts his own theory.)
Warrick: Banglor sh**ting stick -- I'll give you that. Burping bourbons --
I'll give you that, too. But he left solo. A few miles down the road,
(WARRICK stands up and starts pacing the room as he goes over his scenario, evidence by evidence.)
Warrick: ... Bentley thief flags him down ...
(Quick flashback to: [WARRICK'S THEORY] The MOTORIST flags the car down. End of flashback Resume to present.)
Warrick: ... spooks him into a skid ... boom, crash!
(Quick flashback to: The car headlights. End of flashback Resume to present.)
Warrick: He's robbed ... forced into the back ... pushed over the edge.
(Quick flashback to: The MOTORIST pushes the car over the edge of the hill. End of flashback Resume to present.)
Warrick: With Banglor out of the way, the thief gets in his stolen Bentley ... hightails it out of there. No watch ... no rings, no cash ... stolen Bentley tire treads, converse all-star size 11 ... all bases covered. Victim, suspect, crime scene. Like a canary ... it sings.
(Done, WARRICK tosses the ball to NICK. He catches it. WARRICK takes a seat.)
Nick: You know, I hate to admit it ... but I like your theory. It does work.
Warrick: I was sitting here thinking the same thing about your phantom driver.
Nick: So, what do you think? Can two solid theories, each backed by evidence both be correct?
(WARRICK shrugs. NICK tosses the football to WARRICK.)
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - PHOTO LAB -- DAY]
(Everyone watches the bank ATM machine security camera footage. On the monitor, a bum stands directly in front of the camera. A second person stands off to the side directing the bum. He hands the bum the card.)
Grissom: (o.s.) There. There's our guy ... handing it off.
(On screen, the man on the side hands the bum a stack of cue cards. The bum turns the cards one after the other in front of the camera.)
Grissom: Life ... like holding a dove.
Grissom: Hold it too hard ...
Catherine: ... you k*ll it.
Grissom: Hold it too soft ...
Sara: ...and it'll fly away.
(The bum continues to flip the cards. Thinking that he's done, the bum turns to the side to walk away, but the man pushes him back in front of the camera to continue flipping the cards.)
Catherine: :Have we located this bum?
Grissom: Brass's guys are looking for him. Okay ... significance of the flipping?
Catherine: He's obviously making a point.
Sara: What does the dove symbolize? Peace.
Catherine: But I don't think it's peace in terms of ... human civility or unrest. I think maybe it's "peace of mind." (b*at) What do you have to attain to have peace of mind? (realizing) Justice.
Grissom: "I'm going to keep doing this over and over again until I get Justice."
HARD CUT TO BLACK.
(COMMERCIAL BREAK)
FADE IN.
[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT - INTERVIEW ROOM -- NIGHT]
(GRISSOM opens the interview room. Inside is the bum.)
Brass: How you doing?
Grissom: (looking at the bum) Hmm. How'd you find him?
Brass: We canvassed a square-mile radius of the ATM machine. Started throwing bums hamburgers out the car window in a nice tight spiral. They ratted him out in 20 minutes.
Brass: You want to tell him how you were approached?
Bum: You know, I think better when I eat.
Brass: No kidding?
Grissom: Jim, call the steak house at Circus. Get this fella a porterhouse.
(BRASS picks up the phone.)
Brass: How do you like it -- Medium rare? No, you look like a well-done kind of guy.
Bum: Rare.
CUT TO:
[INT. HOSPITAL - HALLWAY -- NIGHT]
(NICK and WARRICK sit side-by-side in the hallway. NICK glances at his watch. DR. LEEVER steps out.)
Dr. Leever: Two minutes, understand?
Nick: That's all we'll need.
(They head into WALTER BANGLOR'S room.)
CUT TO:
[INT. HOSPITAL - ROOM - NIGHT -- CONTINUOUS]
(The door opens. NICK and WARRICK walk into the room.)
Nick: Hey, hey. How are you feeling, Mr. Banglor?
Walter Banglor: Uh, better, I guess. I understand last night was exciting, though.
Warrick: Yeah.
Nick: I'm going to come right out and say it. What happened to you is not right. The person responsible needs to be brought to justice. You tell me who that person is. Who was driving that car?
Walter Banglor: Who the hell are you guys?
(WARRICK and NICK both talk at the same time.)
Warrick: I'm Warrick ... NICK: I'm Nick ...
(They stop and look at each other.)
Nick: I'm Nick Stokes. This is Warrick Brown. We're with criminalistics. We've been working your accident.
Warrick: Actually, sir, I-I don't think it was an accident. I think you were robbed and any information that you remember about your attacker would be very helpful.
Walter Banglor: I wasn't att*cked.
(At this, WARRICK'S face falls.)
Walter Banglor: I was drunk .. really drunk.
(At this, NICK'S face falls.)
Walter Banglor: No way I should've been driving that car.
(Quick flashback to: [POOL BAR] WALTER BANGLOR looses another game and puts his pool stick down on the table. He sighs.)
Walter Banglor: Yeah! I guess that's enough for me.
Pool Player: Then it's time to pay up.
(Cut to: WALTER BANGLOR looks into his wallet, then glances at the POOL PLAYER in front of him.)
Walter Banglor: Looks like I'm a little short.
(He chuckles. The POOL PLAYER turns to the THUG behind him and motions to WALTER.)
Pool Player: Hit him. Take everything he's got.
(The THUG hits WALTER in the stomach and in the face.)
(Cut to: WALTER BANGLOR is driving home. He's drinking as he's driving. He's not paying attention to the road and is startled awake when the truck headed toward him honks his horn.)
Walter Banglor: Jeez!
(WALTER gets control over his car and swerves. He crashes through the railing and teeters on the edge of the cliff.)
(To balance the car, WALTER crawls into the back seat. He fastens himself in just as the car tilts over the edge. And like a wild park ride, the car rolls down the hillside.)
(End of flashback. Resume to present.)
Warrick: You mean you got hustled?
Walter Banglor: I won the first game.
Nick: (astonished) You climbed in the back seat yourself?
Walter Banglor: Yeah.
Warrick: So buckling up ... really did save your life. You know that?
Walter Banglor: Yeah, I guess it did.
Warrick: You get well, okay?
Nick: Glad we could help.
(They both walk out of the room.)
CUT TO:
[INT. HOSPITAL - HALLWAY - NIGHT -- CONTINUOUS]
(NICK and WARRICK walk out of the room and into the hallway.)
Nick: Well, the only thing we didn't factor in was his will to live.
Warrick: And the Bentley thief, size 11-- he could've been at that crime scene anytime last week. So we push on the bet? No winner?
Nick: (agreed) No loser.
(NICK'S pager goes off. The wall clock reads 4:02. NICK checks his pager.)
Nick: 406. Burglary. Double or nothing?
Warrick: You're talking to the wrong guy.
(They both walk out.)
CUT TO:
[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT - INTERVIEW ROOM -- NIGHT]
(The BUM finishes his meal.)
Brass: Can we start again, please?
Grissom: Now, how did this man approach you?
Bum: He walked up to me. Told me he'd give me a hundred bucks if I flip some cards.
Brass: He pay you cash?
Bum: (nods) Mm-hmm. A hundred-dollar bill.
Grissom: You still have it?
(The BUM doesn't answer.)
Grissom: How tall was this man? Was he ... shorter or taller than Mr. Brass here?
(BRASS stands up.)
Bum: A hair taller.
Grissom: By a hair, do you mean the hair of a rabbit or the hair of grizzly bear?
Bum: Somewhere in the middle.
Grissom: Okay. Let's say he was five-ten. What else do you remember about this man?
(BRASS takes a seat.)
Bum: He had a narrow chin. Uh ... his eyes were blue -- deep-sea blue, you know? Uh, jet-black hair uh, Spock-like ears pointed nose, bushy eyebrows. Sunken cheeks with a bad complexion, almost pock-faced.
(As he talks, GRISSOM puts it together.)
Bum: Uh ... thin as a soda cr*cker and his clothes were wrinkled, like, uh, he slept in them. Oh ... and when he spoke, he spoke with a ...
Grissom: (realizing) ... stutter.
Bum: Yeah.
Grissom: Paul Millander. He set me up. (surges to his feet, angry) Son of a bitch! I had him and I let him go!
(Quick flashback to: [HOLLOWEIRD] GRISSOM talks with PAUL MILLANDER.)
Grissom: You ever make any rubber hands?
(Cut to: GRISSOM shows PAUL MILLANDER the rubber hand.)
Paul Millander: I sold ten thousand of those units last Halloween. Even used my own hand for the mold.
(End of flashback. Resume to present.)
(GRISSOM is angry ... with himself. BRASS watches GRISSOM.)
CUT TO:
[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT - HALLWAY -- NIGHT]
(GRISSOM fills CATHERINE, SARA and BRASS in on his findings.)
Grissom: So when I picked up the hand he must have lifted my print, Catherine.
Catherine: Latex rubber surface, freshly dried paint a snip of scotch tape -
Sara: It wouldn't be that hard to lift and replant.
Grissom: Sara, we'll be on headsets. Run everything you can on Paul Millander. Use forenz-l use nexus, search anything and everything.
Brass: I'll call the brigade.
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - RESEARCH ROOM -- NIGHT]
(SARA is on the computer, running the searches.)
Sara: Typing in search word: Paul Millander. Here it is. Paul Millander:
INTERCUT WITH:
[MOVING VEHICLE - NIGHT]
Sara: (from radio) Age 42, five-eleven, male caucasian. Address not on file. No criminal record.
Grissom: Keep looking. Listen, check the business database. Search word:
"Halloweird."
(SARA does a search.)
Sara: There's no listing, Grissom.
Grissom: How can that be? I was just there.
Catherine: (to radio) Change databases. Newspaper index, periodicals index -- just keep trying.
Sara: (from radio) I got something out of the newspaper index.
Grissom: What is it?
Sara: (reading) "Two hotel security guards exonerated in alleged 'staged' su1c1de. Boy's testimony shaky. Paul Millander, age ten, testified that he watched in the closet while his father, John, was escorted by two hotel security guards into his own bathtub at gunpoint where he was found sh*t to death. Official cause of death was ruled ..."
Grissom: (to radio) ... su1c1de. (from radio) Check the date.
(SARA runs the search.)
Sara: Catherine, you were right. August 17, 1959, it's a pattern.
Catherine: So he was k*lling men who were born on the same day that his father d*ed.
CUT TO:
[EXT. HOLLOWEIRD - NIGHT]
(The police vehicle stops. OFFICERS suited up exit the back of the van. Additional OFFICER vehicles arrive at the scene. BRASS exits his car, g*n drawn. GRISSOM and CATHERINE stick their heads out of the van after all the OFFICERS exit.)
(The OFFICERS break down the warehouse door.)
CUT TO:
[INT. HOLLOWEIRD - WAREHOUSE -- NIGHT]
(The OFFICERS search the warehouse. It's completely empty. Everything's gone.)
Officer: All clear.
(GRISSOM, CATHERINE and BRASS walk into the empty warehouse. In the center is a single stool with an envelope on it.)
(GRISSOM takes out his gloves and looks at the envelope. He opens it and takes out the single piece of paper inside.)
Catherine: Blank. What's that mean?
Grissom: We have nothing.
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - RECEPTION -- NIGHT]
(The RECEPTIONIST looks up from her desk at PAUL MILLANDER.)
Paul Millander: Mr. Grissom in?
Receptionist: No. He's out on assignment.
(PAUL looks around and sees the security camera in the corner nearby.)
Receptionist: Do you want to leave him a message?
Paul Millander: No. Just tell him a friend stopped by.
Receptionist: A friend?
Paul Millander: (nods) A friend. He'll know.
(PAUL steps away to leave. He walks in front of the security camera and waves. He walks out.)
FADE TO BLACK.
End
01x08 - Anonymous
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An elite team of police forensic evidence investigation experts work their cases in Las Vegas.
An elite team of police forensic evidence investigation experts work their cases in Las Vegas.