11x19 - The Head in the Abutment

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Bones". Aired September 2005 - March 2017.*
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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.
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11x19 - The Head in the Abutment

Post by bunniefuu »

Wow, Hurricane Brennan, tearing through the house early in the morning.

I thought we were supposed to be organizing it.

Yes, and in order to do that properly, we must sort through all of our possessions, purge everything we can, and keep only what we need.

Oh, no way. (Grunts) You got to be kidding me.

No way, the Cocky belt buckle stays.

Booth, you haven't worn that in years.

In New Order: A Decluttering Handbook,

Fay Wolf says, "If you don't use it and/or love it, you must let go of it."

Well, Fay Wolf is out, okay?

But the Cocky belt buckle stays.

Ain't going anywhere. You know what?

(sighs)

You can get rid of these things.

No, no. Booth, Booth, Booth!

Booth, Booth, those are extremely rare African fertility river stones.

We already have two beautiful kids together; we don't need it.

Well, speaking of things we can get rid of...

No way! Are you kid...

This beer hat.

Now, that's not happening.

Booth, Booth!

Aha!

Booth!

We're not making any progress, Hank and Christine are getting big fast, and we agreed to make space.

Beer hat stays, and the Cocky belt buckle, Ugh. and you can keep those weird stones.

Fine, as long as we do something with that pile of socks.

Booth: What?

No.

No way, these are my socks.

No way.

Booth, I know they're your way of keeping your individuality at the FBI, but you don't need a hundred pairs.

I do need a hundred pairs.

I wear these socks, I actually put them on my feet.

You know, unlike you with those books.

Excuse me?

Yeah, all those books over there.

Look at all those books.

Books are educational, aesthetically pleasing, and great to have around children.

But you already read them. Get rid of them.

You don't get rid of books, Booth.

(phones chime)

Ah.

That's crazy.

Oh, okay, lab confirms that you got to get rid of the books.

(chuckles)

We also have a dead body, so...

(blipping on video game)

Hodgins: Yeah! Eat that there, Oliver.

You like that, huh?

You like how that tastes?

Want to eat a little bit more? (Chuckles)

I will be doing no eating of any kind.

You, on the other hand, will be eating whatever I'm serving.

Hey, don't do... no, no, Oliver, stop!

Come on, man, you can't do that.

You can't do multiple boosters, it's not fair.

Your face isn't fair.

That doesn't even make sense.

Your face doesn't make sense.

Your face doesn't.

Your face doesn't.

Your face doesn't.

Your face is so big that it creates non-Euclidian triangles of over 180 degrees around it.

Is that right? Really?

Yeah.

Really?

Okay, well, your face is so expansive that the lensing effect is such that a light passing within one Astronomical Unit has a radius of curvature of six E to the ninth meter.

Ooh.

Am I interrupting?

Yes.

Yes.

Well, too bad.

A body from the Anacostia River just came in.

(expl*si*n on video game)

Oh!

Yes! I will eat whatever you can dish out, 24 hours a day, good sir.

You cheated.

You like cheating, yeah?

You, do you?

You feel good when you cheat, cheater?

Guys! Now.

I want a rematch, cheater.

And I will consider giving you one.

I'm sorry, consider?

Guys.

Sorry.

Sorry.

Based on the femoral heads and the auricular surfaces of the ilia, the victim was a white male in his 30s.

A white male in his 30s who suffered massive injuries.

There are fractures on his clavicle, his ribs, his anterior tibial crest, multiple foot fractures, including the calcaneus, the talus, the metatarsals, and the phalanges.

Well, maybe he cheated at video games, so his friend threw him off a cliff.

Or he was simply so depressed at being such a sore loser, that he jumped.

Those hypotheses are juvenile and not rooted in facts.

Dr. Wells, please determine which injuries are postmortem and which are perimortem.

Already on it.

Okay, I am seeing evidence of dislocated shoulders, sprains to the hips, knees and groin, wrist strains, and abdominal tears, and that's just from the tissue that I have to work with.

Well, the fish definitely made a few nibbles here and there, but I think most of the damage I'm seeing is done by Chelydra serpentina.

That would be the eastern snapping turtle, loser.

Yeah, that's what I said, cheater.

Based on the lack of intestinal bloating and the degree of early skin slippage, the body's been in the river about 12 to 15 hours.

That means he was dumped there between 9:00 and midnight last night.

The lack of hemorrhagic staining around the margins indicates the decapitation was very likely postmortem and not cause of death.

Uh, yeah, it was definitely postmortem.

And this is a violent cut, done with tremendous force.

Maybe it was ritualistic.

Perhaps done with a sword.

Montenegro: Uh, no.

No, it was not a sword.

It was definitely a curved w*apon spinning really, really fast.

What do you know that we don't?

Montenegro: So I did a comprehensive tag search for "Anacostia," "body," "head," and "decapitation," and this is the viral video that I came up with.

Brennan: Wow. Over 200,000 hits.

In less than an hour.

Oh, that's on the Anacostia, near where the body was found.

Ten beers and zero fish, baby!

(chuckles) Yeah, yeah!

(chuckles)

Holy crap, Doc, is that a dead body?

Doc: No, I don't think so, bro.

Doc, I think it's real.

I think it's a mannequin.

Man: Oh, I don't know, Doc, I'm thinking it's real.

(men argue on video)

Angela, perhaps you can fast-forward through this part.

Yeah.

Jumping ahead five minutes.

I don't think it's real, bro.

But what if it is, Doc?

Oh, it can't be...

Maybe a few minutes more.

But what if it is? What if it...

All right, all right, fine. What if it is, Goheen?

What are we gonna do, huh?

I don't know, I don't know...

Angela, skip to the end of the video.

Yeah. Right.

Goheen: Holy crap, Doc, it is a dead body!

Look how gross it is.

Oh!

Let it be known, on this day, Thursday 9:00 a.m., I, Nathan Goheen, and my friend, Jeff Dockerty, found this dead body!

Oh, Doc, should we alert the mayor?

Doc: We got to tell the mayor, dude.

(boat engine revs)

No, Doc!

Holy crap, you cut off his head, Doc!

Unbelievable.

Angela, one more thing...

I know, I've already tagged the coordinates and pinpointed the location.

No, please press the thumbs up button.

I find imbeciles amusing.

Wells: Based on the remodeling, I categorized the victim's injuries, and only a few of the fractures occurred postmortem.

Caused by the rocks in the river?

Precisely.

However, almost all of the other injuries were sustained gradually over the past 17 years.

That's a long time to be getting repeatedly injured.

Maybe he had a high-risk occupation.

Like an MMA fighter.

Ooh, or a rodeo clown.

Or maybe he just got in a lot of bar fights.

No, actually, he wasn't a drinker.

According to his tox screen?

Yeah, he had no alcohol or dr*gs in his system.

He was in tip-top shape.

The last thing he ate was a protein bar.

Hey.

Hey, so you got an I.D.?

No.

I don't have one.

You don't have one?

I don't have any fingerprints, implants, or surgical replacements of any kind to work with.

Oh, and I don't have a head.

Wells: You have the victim's sex, his height, his weight, and his hair color.

Yeah, that narrowed it down to a whopping 29,000 people.

(diners conversing indistinctly)

Booth.

Hey, Bones. Look at that, huh?

Look what I got you.

What is this?

That's an e-reader.

You can download thousands of books, and you know what?

It's thinner than a single hardcover.

I know what an e-reader is.

Told you, if she wanted one, she'd already have it.

Order something, Aubrey.

Don't have to tell me twice.

Booth, I like reading actual, physical books.

Which I'll never understand.

Plus, a lot of the books I have are too rare to upload onto an e-reader.

No problem, no problem. I will just return that.

That's no big deal.

Waitress: Ready to order?

Uh, yeah, let me get a burger, medium-well, and, uh, that's it.

Actually, let me add some fries to that, extra crispy, and a side of that fruit salad; chocolate milk. Thanks.

Are you sure that's it?

Uh, you're right... and... and some onion rings, too?

Oh, sure.

Thank you.

So, we didn't have any luck cross-referencing the victim's injuries to hospitals, so either he lived out of town or he traveled a lot.

Perhaps we should widen the search geographically.

I mean, his list of injuries is quite extensive.

Fractured foot bones in '04, broken collarbone in '08, broken wrist in 2011.

Hold on.

Is this guy... what, is he six-two, 220, brown hair, athletic?

That's correct.

I think I know who this is.

What? No way.

(chuckles)

Did he break his ribs last year?

Yes. Wha... how could you possibly know that?

Well, because his injuries are really well-known, at least to me.

We're talking about seven-time all-star hockey great Seth Lang.

The Seth Lang.

Hey.

Booth I.D.'d the victim as a hockey player named Seth Lang.

Last seen by multiple teammates around 10:30 p.m.

So, if the body was dumped between 9:00 and midnight...

We have a 90-minute window for time of death.

90 minutes.

Good job, Cam.

That's really, really amazing stuff.

Okay, what's going on?

You are being way too polite and you're clearly in the middle of something.

Oh, this?

Oh, I'm so glad that you mentioned this.

This is actually my plan to track down the victim's missing head.

But our search team's already on it.

Yeah, a search team that's in a single boat, Cam.

And they're just, like, randomly floating on the Anacostia looking for a head.

I mean, that's like throwing darts in the wind.

They're not gonna find it.

And you can?

Come see.

We know that the head is between five and 5.9 kilograms, which would be visible at water level.

Okay, I'm listening.

So, tidal currents in the Anacostia are moving no faster than two knots, right?

So, if you take three hours, which is six nautical miles from the point of separation...

Bottom line, Dr. Hodgins.

Right, bottom line.

Bottom line is that the head would be in this section of the Anacostia, potentially drifting downstream at two knots, as we speak.

Okay, and what are those?

Oh, those.

Now, those are blueprints for souped-up drones.

How souped-up are we talking?

You know, high-speed satellite cameras, video and audio capabilities, ooh, and retractable claws.

Remember when you were a kid? The claw game?

Where you, you know, try and win some stuffed animals?

I remember those games.

So imagine that, but a hundred times stronger.

They're already using these just outside Shanghai to deliver packages.

But, instead of packages, you'd be picking up a decapitated head.

Exactly.

Brennan: So, the fractures on the calcaneus and cuboid of the right foot...

Well, you know, sometimes hockey players block sh*ts with their feet, but, you know, skates, they can only protect so much.

And the broken ribs?

Well, there's cross-checking.

I mean, being slammed into the boards, not to mention all the fighting that there is in hockey.

This is very useful, Booth.

You're practically an intern on the case.

All right, stop.

Not an intern, don't call me an intern, don't even think about calling me a squint, all right?

I just happen to know a little bit about hockey.

And what do you know about this Katie Stober we're going to meet?

Not much, I mean, except she's the widowed trophy wife of the last owner, Jerry Stober.

So she inherited the team.

Mm-hmm.

Well, I imagine an asset like that comes with a lot of perks.

Yeah, but anything that valuable, you know, comes with enemies, too.

(murmuring)

Katie Stober? FBI.

Special Agent Seeley Booth.

This here...

I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan.

Hi. Yes, I heard you.

Just... just one second.

Oh, there it is.

(sighs) Sorry, I just...

(exhales) Ah...

Lang's death has been really overwhelming.

Is this a bad time, Mrs. Stober?

I...

No. Look, I'm a new team owner.

Just... a lot of pressure from the media and corporate sponsors and the fans.

Jerry d*ed last year, and so I'm just in a little over my head with everything.

No, that's... that's... that's understandable.

So when was the last time you saw Lang?

It's hard to say exactly.

Uh, we met, you know, often throughout the season.

Brennan: How often?

Did the two of you have a romantic relationship?

God, no. Lang was our only all-star, so meetings with him were really about catering to his needs.

Booth: So what was the relationship like between Lang and his teammates and the staff?

Uh, you'd have to ask the head coach.

Jeremy Roenick?

Yes. Yeah, he's down at the rink right now.

Who is Jeremy Roenick?

JR!

Jeremy Roenick played 18 years as a pro, 500 goals scored.

He's a hockey legend.

We'll head down and we'll ask him some questions.

You know, they... they're just finishing up practice right now, so you'd have to wait a little bit unless you want to throw on some skates and go talk to him out on the ice.



(whistle blows)

Roenick: Good job today, boys.

Hey, Coach. Sorry to bother you.

FBI. Special Agent Seeley Booth here.

Yeah, I heard you had some questions for me.

Hey, good job, Fields. Good job today, bud.

Yeah, just curious if, uh, I don't know, any of your players or staff had, uh, any problems with, um, Seth Lang.

No, you'd be crazy to have a beef with Lang.

He was, like, the face of our team.

Although there was Poppleton.

Drew Poppleton, the defenseman? Wait, wait, your enforcer?

Yeah, he was kind of Lang's personal bodyguard.

Right, why'd he have a beef with him?

Well, he wasn't actually our best player.

Lang thought he slowed us down, so he asked me to get rid of him.

(players arguing)

Uh, that's good to know.

Yeah, yeah.

What's going on, boys? What's happening?

I bet Berkstresser he couldn't hit the post from 20 feet out.

I'm taking he didn't do that, huh?

Whatever. Good luck collecting.

Oh, so it's like that, huh?

Double or nothing.

$500 here says the suit can hit it in one sh*t.

Wait a second, guys. 500 bucks? I don't even know you guys.

Exactly, that's how bad he sucks.

Yeah, yeah, keep it up, tough guy.

Wow.

You play?

Yeah, I mean, I play.

Yeah, sure, I... I played, I mean...

All right, you're on.

(scoffs)

Okay, this should be interesting, huh?

One sh*t, double or nothing.

Let's do it, suit.

I don't know, the suit looks confident.

No way. Two-and-a-half-inch target.



All: Oh!

Not bad, suit.

Yeah, I'm back.

Aubrey: Drew Poppleton.

How many fights you been in during your career, Drew?

I don't know. 65? 250?

That's kind of a big difference. I guess I can work with that.

You get any major injuries protecting Lang in those fights?

Uh, yeah. (Chuckles)

Broken jaw, broken hand, cracked ribs.

Wow, you must have been pissed when he wanted to kick you off the team.

Not gonna lie, it stung pretty bad.

I'd totally understand if you wanted retribution.

Totally.

Totally?

So you admit to wanting retribution?

Yeah.

Wait, what does retribution mean again?

Is that, like, when you... you get a refund from money, like, that you paid out of your own pocket?

Close.

That's reimbursement.

Retribution is revenge.

Did you want revenge on Lang?

Oh, no, I didn't want that.

I mean, I... I didn't k*ll the guy, if that's what you mean.

Is that why I'm here?

Yeah, you're a suspect, because Lang wanted to take away your job.

There aren't many enforcers left in hockey.

Yeah, but I'm one of the best.

Lots of teams want me.

That's why I wasn't sweating losing my job.

Where were you last night, between 10:30 and midnight?

I was working out.

That late?

Where were you working out?

Mainly my arms.

It was a bis, tris and abs day.

Okay.

Let me rephrase that.

So I found massive amounts of fluid in the victim's lungs.

So cause of death was drowning?

He may have been alive when he was dumped in the Anacostia.

Perhaps. I'm still waiting for further biopsy details.

What do you have?

Bilateral perimortem fractures of the carpal bones suggest the victim threw several punches around the time he was k*lled.

According to Booth, Lang wasn't the type of hockey player to get into fights.

So maybe the fight wasn't about hockey. It was personal.

Well, that would certainly cause...

... these... uh...

Okay.

Hey, check it out.

Saroyan: I have to say, I am equal parts scared and fascinated.

Coming your way.

Hodgins: Hey, Oliver, looks like you got a little piece of lint there, buddy.

I suppose that's very impressive.

Watch this.

Okay, that will certainly be helpful in finding the head.

What's that?

Yeah, that's a second drone.

A second drone?

Mm-hmm.

You want help finding the victim's missing head?

I don't know. Think you can find it before me?

You want a rematch.

Yeah, I do want a rematch.

Okay, guys, this is not a drone-measuring contest.

Just find the missing head as soon as possible.

Go ahead.

Ugh.

Oh, game on.

Booth: All right, so we're gonna go see the team's equipment manager, right?

Yeah, Daryl Patterson.

Lang lived in a gated community, and security said that he visited three nights in a row before Lang was k*lled.

Daryl Patterson.

Why does that name sound familiar to me?

Does he have a record?

No, he's clean.

Just a regular working-class guy, been with the team about 15 years.

Whoa.

Whoa what?

Good thing you got that huge bag of socks back there.

Never know when there might be an emergency, you need 70 pairs right away.

(sighs)

It's for Bones, okay?

We're spring-cleaning, and, you know, we're kind of at a standoff.

I know, books versus socks.

Right, okay, and I thought that I'd take initiative and donate mine first.

You're being the bigger man. That's great.

I'm just saying, you should probably throw them away.

(groans)

See, socks, they're like Social Security numbers and diapers.

Should only have one owner.

Stop, okay?

Just stop.

Daryl Patterson?

Special Agent James Aubrey, FBI.

This is my partner.

Seeley Booth.

Sorry, do we know each other?

It's me, Daryl.

Daryl Patterson.

Yeah, the equipment manager.

Yeah, but n... no, uh... from the state championships back in high school.

I was the goalie for NA High.

Yes, you were. Right, I told you.

I... I knew I knew that name.

Yeah, you were the goalie I... I scored the penalty sh*t on to win the championship.

You know, I...

That goal was controversial.

I swiped the puck away before it crossed the line.

But, hey, who's keeping track, right?

Um, apparently you are, 20 years later.

You still play hockey?

Yeah, here and there, but that's not why we're here.

We're here to talk about Seth Lang.

Right.

Yeah, it's really sad what happened to him.

Were you close with him?

Yeah, you know, he wasn't one of those, uh, standoffish stars.

He was... he was close with everyone.

So you want to tell us why you were at his house every night, before he was m*rder*d?

I'll tell you what, let's head over to the rink.

If Seeley gives me a penalty sh*t rematch, we can finally settle this debate.

There's no debate.

I took the sh*t, it went in, we won, you lost, life goes on.

But if you give me a rematch, I'll tell you why I was there.

Or you could just tell us why you were there, and we won't arrest you for impeding an investigation.

Geez, okay, uh...

I was in... installing, uh, an infinity rink.

It's... it's like a treadmill but for ice-skating.

That's why you were at his house after work.

Those can be a hassle to set up.

You know, I... I can hook you up with one, if you, uh, can score a penalty sh*t on me.

Just drop it, okay?

We're not here to relive the glory days.

We're here about a m*rder investigation.


Is that it?

Is that the head?

Zooming in.

Ah, not even close.

Oh, not so hot when you don't cheat, huh?

Keep talking smack, Dr. Hodgins, seriously.

Yeah? Your mom talks smack.

Oh, yeah? Well, I'm gonna plant a cypress tree in your mom's butt and then I'm gonna pull you under the shade of that tree and I'm gonna slap you across the face.

So you guys haven't found the head yet.

Dr. Saroyan. Um, no, not... not yet.

And, uh, sorry for all that planting-trees- in-mom's-butt talk.

That's just, uh, testosterone-driven banter.

Meanwhile, uh, I did get swab results, uh, from Lang's carpal bones back, and I found traces of iron oxide as well as synthetic blue pigments.

It's basically blue paint and rust that matches the lockers in the training room at the hockey complex.

Booth and Aubrey just questioned the team's equipment manager.

Well, he may or may not be clean, but Lang was likely k*lled within the complex.

(Phone chimes)

Oh, this is Angela.

Notify me when you find the head, whoever finds it first.

Both: I will.

Hey, what have you got?

Uh, Lang's finances.

He's clean, but there's one recurring charge on his credit card statement that stands out.

"The Penalty Box."

Yeah, it's a well-known hockey bar.

Can you check social media to see if anyone tagged photos of Lang the last night he was there?

Montenegro: Yeah, absolutely.

Celebrity sightings are tagged a lot.

Uh, there.

Oh.

He's with Little Miss Tight Dress.

And she is obviously mad.

Can you run facial recognition on her?

Uh, yeah.

Already on it.

Uh, okay.

Alex Conrad, 30.

Can you put her with Lang anywhere else?

Uh, no, but I can put her with everyone else.

Looks like we have a hockey groupie on our hands.

(inhales) Alex Conrad, I'm Special Agent Aubrey, would you... Oh.

You have a...

(sputters)

Are you... ?

I'm four months pregnant.

Got it.

Just been wrong before, never want to make that mistake again.

Would you have a seat?

So, tell me, what's it like being a hockey groupie?

Excuse me?

Social media, it's a cop's new best friend.

Online you were tagged having drinks with ten different players at The Penalty Box.

One of them... was Seth Lang.

So?

So what?

So Lang is now dead.

In that picture, whew!

You look, I'd say, angry enough to k*ll.

So you think I k*lled him?

(scoffs) Why would I do that?

Well, off the top of my head, I can think of two different scenarios.

Scenario number one, you're pregnant with his kid and extorting him for child support.

Seth is not the father of my child.

Which leads me to scenario numero dos, you're pregnant with someone else's kid and Seth got jealous.

So, tell me, who's the father?

You think you've got this all figured out, don't you?

No, but I feel like I'm getting closer.

In any case, the key seems to be in the details of your pregnancy.

So what would you say if the FBI started looking into that?

I'd say that would be illegal since I didn't commit a felony and you don't have a warrant.

Well, then I guess getting a warrant is just what we'll have to do.

Well, this is a good compromise.

Booth gets those books out of the house, and you still get to hang on to them all.

Unfortunately, these are merely a fraction of my library.

Okay.

I can't imagine this is related to the case.

No, but just so you know, I found multiple curved fractures of the ulnae.

The plotting indicates that they were caused by a thin, curved w*apon.

Hodgins swabbed for particulates, and we don't have anything to do until he gets the results.

So you're just stockpiling books in the meantime?

We're decluttering our home.

Booth wanted me to get rid of my books, but...

I'm finding that to be quite difficult.

Well, that's understandable.

I mean, books have been your escape your entire life.

During the foster system and then with your parents.

But books are just inanimate objects.

Oh, trust me, inanimate objects can carry a very deep emotional attachment.

Oh, my God! Ah!

Wow, it's the engagement ring.

Arastoo did good.

Brennan: I agree.

As far as well-marketed minerals masquerading as good investments go, this is exquisite.

Thanks, I think.

It's beautiful, Cam.

Thank you.

And... and anyway, I... I didn't mean to hijack the conversation.

The point is, I totally understand how you feel about your books.

Montenegro: I mean, if you get rid of them or if you keep them, you still have those memories to hold on to.

(Phone chimes)

Saroyan: All right, Hodgins just got his swab results back... it's stainless steel.

The cold tub at the training facility.

It's stainless steel, and the fractures of the ulnae were very likely the result of the victim flailing while being drowned.

Okay, I'll tell Booth.

Man, gone over every inch of the banks.

Maybe you miscalculated the discovery area.

I did not make a miscalculation.

You know what maybe did make a miscalculation?

Please do not say my face.

Your butt.

You're like a child.

Wait a second, that's actually it.

What's "it," your butt?

The abutment.

We got to get over to the bridge in the discovery area, and check the abutments.

That's a prime location for the head to have gotten stuck.

Race to the bridge?

Oh, game on.

Wait.

That's it.

Next to the abutment. Or at least what's left of it.

I win!

No, no, no, no, no, what are you doing?

That's my head. I got there first.

Yeah, well, I discovered the abutment.

Yeah, well, I made the butt joke that led to your discovery.

Come on, come on, come on.

Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on.

Oh!

And I am off for my triumphant flight back to the lab.

Drowned in the cold tub, huh?

Yeah, and the person who locks up the training room is your old hockey rival, Daryl Patterson.

Oh, stop, will you?

Come on, he's not my rival.

That was a long time ago.

Look, Booth, uh, ever since you scored that winning goal against him, you've gone on to a series of heroic moments, while he became an equipment manager.

That's his choice if he wants to dwell on the past, not mine.

Well, speaking of the past, I looked into his eBay history: Turns out he's been selling some of Lang's personal stuff online, making some good money.

What kind of stuff?

Oh, everything from pucks, jerseys, mouthpieces, jockstraps.

Jockstraps?

It's getting to you, isn't it, Seeley?

What are you talking about?

You replaying our epic penalty sh*t over and over in your head and finally realizing that maybe it wasn't a goal after all.

Well, I hadn't given a second thought to you or that goal.

Well, then, what do you have to lose in giving me a rematch?

Scared, Seeley?

Aubrey: I don't think Agent Booth has as much to lose here as you do, Patterson.

What do you mean?

I mean, you are now a suspect in Lang's m*rder.

What?

I already told you why I was at his house.

Yeah, but you conveniently left out the fact that you've been stealing Lang's personal items and selling them online.

A jockstrap?

Come on.

Hey, I got 120 bucks for that.

And all you had to do was rummage through his locker and steal it.

No, I didn't steal anything.

He gave me everything I sold, including the jockstrap.

Why would he do that?

(sighs)

Because Lang was a... a good dude and he was throwing me a bone, all right?

He knew I wasn't getting paid a lot, so, with the recent cutbacks...

What recent cutbacks?

Ever since Jerry Stober's trophy wife took the team over, she made a bunch of moves, starting with cutting staff salaries by 15%.

Aubrey: Wait, Katie Stober did that?

It seems kind of drastic for a clueless new owner.

Katie Stober isn't clueless.

No, you're saying that she's just a shrewd businesswoman.

No, I'm saying she's a cold, calculating bitch.

Dr. Hodgins...

Uh-uh, don't try to steal my moment here.

No, no, seriously, uh, Dr. Hodgins.

What?

Girl: It's somebody's head!

Ooh.

(Girl screams)

Come on, honey, let's go.

Man: Look at that.

Maybe I should've taken a different route home.

(people screaming)

Any progress weeding through the team documents?

Yeah, it turns out that Booth's lead was right.

Katie Stober made some pretty shrewd business decisions when she took over that team.

Looks like she immediately reduced the team's overhead.

Yeah, she cut back on everything from equipment to catering.

It's like she was intentionally trying to milk the team dry.

(Phone ringing)

Booth, good timing.

If anyone can make sense of this, it's you.

Really, Cam? A flying head?

Okay, that may be the most confusing phone greeting I've ever gotten.

Okay, look, I just got reports, all right?

Of a drone carrying a decapitated head around the DC area.

Oh.

I, uh, guess we found the head.

I thought the drones were supposed to locate and search for the head; I didn't really... think through the logistics.

Well, Aubrey's on his way over to slap some wrists.

Okay, we'll be ready for an earful.

Hey, Booth, while we have you, um, I just sent over some team documents.

Oh, all right.

These confused us a little.

Wait a second.

These trade proposals don't make sense.

How so?

Well, it looks like she's trying to t*nk the team.

Why would anyone do that?

Well, you know, player performance and ticket sales are low enough, you know, she could legally move the team.

Move the team? To where?

To a bigger market.

So, making the team bad would be lucrative for her.

How lucrative?

At least $200 million, give or take 50.

(Strauss' Also sprach Zarathustra plays)

Hodgins: Ooh.

Come to papa.

What are you doing?

Hodgins: This, my friend, is what we call a victory lap.



And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how it's done.

Huh? How cool was that?

Gentlemen.

Wipe that smile off your face.

Agent Aubrey is here to scold us.

That's right.

So, if anyone asks, I gave you both a pretty intense spanking.

I will not be admitting to a spanking of any kind.

Okay, we got it, Aubrey, you gave us a stern talking to.

Thank you.

(chuckling): Whoa.

No way.

High-speed surveillance cameras, retractable claw.

I mean, it's like a real-life version of the game Aerial att*ck.

Yeah, that was the inspiration for the design.

Wait... wait a second, you play?

Uh, yeah.

Pretty good, too.

Oh, I'm sure you think you're pretty good.

I think I'm pretty good?

Aubrey, look at us. We're lab nerds, okay?

I'm sure, when you play with your jock friends, you're good, but when it comes to Aerial att*ck, you can't hang with us.

You guys, I'm a gamer, okay?

I was just being humble by saying I'm pretty good, I'm actually very good.

Really? What level are you?

Level 50 pilot, all red gear. You?

You know, we... we just started playing, so...

Oh, just started?

Wells: Yeah.

(stammers) I could be a level 50 pilot if I wanted to, but, for me, it's really a time thing.

Hmm, the time, right.

(Door beeping open)

Well, maybe when the case is over, we can...

(raising voice): Yeah, you just make sure you never, ever do anything as stupid as fly a decapitated head over civilians.

Hey, well, I just wanted to make sure you get X-rays to Dr. Brennan as soon as possible, and I will be back to examine in ten.

You got it.

Sorry for the holdup, Cam. Just wanted to issue a warning to these two on behalf of the FBI.

Don't want to have to restrict them from public airspace.

Thank you. I'm sure that they appreciate it.

Especially if they ever want to be a level 50 with all red gear.

(knocking)

(sighs) Sorry, still a mess.

I'm such a scatterbrain.

You can drop the act.

What are you talking about?

We're talking about you sabotaging the team with financial cutbacks and bad trades.

You wanted to have a horrible team.

Why would I want that?

So you can move the team to a bigger market, make more money.

Moving the team isn't a crime.

Then why the charade as the victimized trophy wife?

Because if the fans and the media caught wind of the move, I'd be hanged in my own hometown.

I'd say the bigger problem is, it gives you motive for m*rder.

You think I k*lled Lang?

You can only move the team if you come in last place and have poor attendance.

Getting rid of your star is the best way to do that.

I'll admit I'm not as clueless as I'd have the public believe, but I would never k*ll anyone.

Booth: I don't know.

Couple hundred million dollars is pretty enticing to a shrewd businesswoman.

Look, Lang and I had a good relationship.

He really cared about the game, and I was even helping him clean up the sport.

How so?

He found out that a woman named Alex Conrad was causing trouble for the team.

Wait, you care which hockey groupies are sleeping with your players?

Alex Conrad isn't a groupie.

She's a pusher.

A drug dealer.

Stober: The corporate kind.

She supplies painkillers, speed, HGH.

She had met with a bunch of Lang's teammates.

Lang found out and he was not happy about it.

He said he was gonna to confront her, but... after he did, I never heard from him again.

Wells: The fractured mandible and the missing mandibular central incisors are documented hockey injuries.

The sharp force trauma on the inferior margin of the C6 was clearly caused by the powerboat propeller.

The contusions on the occipital and parietal bones are from banging against the abutment in the Anacostia.

There's also the comminuted fracture on the occipital.

It appears to have been obscured by the bruising caused by the abutment.

The severity and placement of the blow would have been powerful enough to knock Lang unconscious.

Precisely, but before he was drowned in the cold tub.

If you're not engaged in a childish video game with Dr. Hodgins...

Currently I am not.

... then I will have him swab the fracture.

(indistinct chatter)

Aubrey: Sorry.

Am I, uh, interrupting a date?

Maybe a drug deal?

Excuse me for a minute.

Yeah, just a minute.

Or maybe five to ten years.

So... you aren't a groupie at all, are you?

I never said I was.

You did.

Well, now I'm saying that Lang was a purist who wanted to clean up the game.

He was the face of his team, head of the players' union.

So?

So he found out that you were a pusher and was gonna out your whole drug scandal.

That would have put you in jail for a long time, which is why you k*lled him.

There's no way you can prove any of that.

You know, a lot of guilty people say that.

No, I am saying that because I didn't do it.

Look, Seth did confront me here, and, yes, he did thr*aten to out me, but after that, he left, and I never saw him again.

You are dealing with dr*gs, m*rder and jail time here.

You really want to bring a child into that world?

I didn't think I...

You didn't think what?

Nothing.

I, I want a lawyer.

Now that the skull is clean, I see a faint extension of the comminuted fracture on the occipital.

The plotting of the sections indicates that this was also performed by a curved w*apon.

Will you bring up the X-rays of the victim's ulnar fractures?

I see where you're going with this.

If we overlay the X-rays, we can see... if the fractures match.

They're not a match.

So we're looking for a different curved w*apon than the cold tub.

Hodgins: Hey, I have the results.

So I found a carbon composite with 70% graphite and 30% fiberglass.

A curved w*apon of that composite is most likely a hockey stick.

Yeah, obviously.

But that's no help.

There's probably hundreds of hockey sticks owned by hundreds of different players within that complex.

We need to get this information to Booth.

Why? These are simply composition statistics.

No, this is his world.

If anyone can decipher the data we've accumulated, it's him.

So it looks like the warrant that we got for Alex Conrad paid off.

Yeah, you got her medical records?

No, not yet, but her credit card shows multiple payments for parking meters near her ob-gyn, which is strange because there's no evidence that she paid any of her medical bills.

Looks like her baby daddy was footing the bill, that's why.

(computer chimes)

What do you got?

All right, this is good. Looks like Seth Lang was whacked over the head with a hockey stick.

No. A hockey player got att*cked with a hockey stick?

That's useful.

Booth: Yeah, it is.

I mean, every professional hockey player has their own personalized custom stick, from composition to flex to blade pattern.

So each stick is like a fingerprint.

Exactly. Okay, we find that stick that matches the player, we got the m*rder*r.

I'm gonna call Bones.

Ironic, isn't it?

What is?

Your job was to protect Lang, and you ended up k*lling him.

What? That's ridiculous.

After all the injuries you sustained from hockey, you were in considerable pain, so you started taking OxyContin.

I took some painkillers. Big deal.

It's a big deal 'cause that's how you met Alex Conrad, huh?

Brennan: You found love, which is why you're paying for her prenatal care.

Her baby is yours.

Well, that still doesn't prove anything.

Well, Lang found out that she was pushing dr*gs on the players.

He wanted to put her in jail, but then he got knocked unconscious with a hockey stick.

A carbon composite stick with a slightly opened pattern and a 110 flex.

Do those specifications sound familiar?

Because after you knocked him unconscious, you drowned him in the cold tub.

It was either that or see the love of your life go down.

I protected him on the ice for years.

All I asked for was for him to protect me just this once.

Look, I didn't want my kid to grow up with a mother behind bars.



Booth, are you sure you're ready for a hockey rematch?

You haven't played in a while.

It's not a rematch. This guy just wants to redo the penalty sh*t, okay?

Besides, I know his weakness, it's four-hole.

Four-hole?

Yeah, it's the lower stick side.

Wait a second, you're gonna... you're gonna read your books at my sh**t-out?

Oh, no.

I finally made the decision to let go.

I'm getting rid of all the books that I can live without.

Wow, that's amazing. You're getting rid of all of them except those three?

No, Booth. (Chuckles) No.

These are the three I'm willing to part with.

The rest I'm keeping.

Whoa.

Wait a second, are you serious?

Yes. You ready to go?

Let's go.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

(cheering)

(whoops) Go!

Go, Booth!



Let's do this, Booth!

(crowd shouting indistinct encouragements)

Man: It's all you!

Man 2: Come on, Daryl! You got this!

Woman: Concentrate!



(cheering)

(Daryl whoops)

Nice save.

That was a good move, Booth.

Good try.

You got me this time.

(cheering)

Yeah!

You lost on purpose.

That wasn't the four-hole.

No, I guess it wasn't.

I guess now this guy can move on with his life and forget about the past.

Just like me and my books?

Three measly books.

You're getting rid of three measly books.

It's a big step for me, Booth.

You're letting go of three books... that's not a big step.

Okay, I guess, you know, tomorrow, I'll go buy some new socks.

N... no.

No, don't you dare.

What do you mean?

I'm not going out and buying...

Great idea.

You're getting skates right now.

(Continuing indistinctly)
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