11x03 - The Donor in the Drink

[bunniefuu]

Says "Keep Out."

Don't mind that.

What a cute little pond.

I don't know about this, Brandy. (scoffs)

Can fish really give pedicures?

It's not like they got hands.

They don't need 'em.

Fish just nibble off the dead skin like a fat man at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

It's one of them Japanese things.

I read about it in a magazine.

But what if it hurts?

Hell, it ain't a beauty treatment if it don't hurt some.

Come on. Ladies up in New York pay big bucks for this stuff.

But you and me-- we're gonna get it for free. Here.

Try some of this.

I swiped it from Billy Ray's tackle box.

Fish love this stuff.

Few minutes from now, these busted ol' feet are gonna feel soft as a baby's.

Ooh.

It kind of tickles, don't it?

"Hurts" is more like it. Ow!

One of these fish got my entire foot in its mouth.

Relax, drama queen.

I'm serious, Brandy. It really hurts.

This is what I get for trying to do something creative on ladies night. Next time, we'll just stay at home...

(both screaming)

Get it off! Get it off!

Booth: Look, I don't care what your logbook says, okay?

But the package never got here, delivered to my house.

No, I don't want to file a complaint.

I just want my brother's ashes.

Is there is a problem with Jared's remains?

Yeah, they're MIA.

Listen, do you... you haven't seen a box around here, about this big?

I-I would have noticed a box of ashes from a crematorium.

Don't worry, Booth. We'll track it down.

I couldn't help Jared when he was alive, now I can't even find his ashes.

Mommy, Daddy, Can I wake up Hank now?

Christine, what did we say about waking a sleeping baby?

But he wants me to get in his crib and read him a story.

Oh, okay, I'll tell you what.

Okay, when I'm done here looking around for what I'm trying to find, I'll come read you a book, okay?

What are you looking for, Daddy?

Oh. Daddy's looking for Uncle Jared.

No, no.

But Daddy said Uncle Jared was in Heaven.

No, uh, Uncle Jared was cremated. Daddy's looking for his ashes.

Really, do we have to explain something like that to her?

Do you have to do that?

Death isn't something to be shied away from, Booth.

From an anthropological standpoint, the more openly a culture embraces death, the less anxiety they associate with it.

(phone rings)

A body was found at a fish farm in West Virginia. It's being brought to the Jeffersonian.

Listen, all right, I'll tell you what-- go-go get dressed, monkey.

But what about reading to Hank?

I'll tell you what, I'll do it tonight, okay? But today is Mommy and Daddy's first day back at work.

Go, go, go, go get dressed, okay?

Hey, hey, welcome back!

Hey, thanks, good to see you, man.

So, listen, listen, I talked to the divers, okay?

They went through the pond.

There's no sign of weapons or I.D.

Whoa, whoa, you don't need to jump right in.

I know you've been through a lot...

Talking about?

It's great to be here. We're back. I'm going back to work!

Huh?

Hey, hey, listen, Booth, before you go in...

Okay.

Booth: Whoa. Wow. What happened here?

You do remember retiring, right?

Yeah, I just, that, uh... this... this has been my office for years.

HR said they'd find you something amazing.

You know, if it's a problem, we can, uh...

No, no problem.

Okay? I'm fine, I'm good.

No problem at all.

This is good for a fresh start. Look at these, huh?

Moving up in the world, huh, pal?

Yeah, you know, I even got my own mini fridge.

You got a mini fridge? Okay, let's get back to work.

Yeah. (clears throat) Right, okay, sorry.

So I was thinking-- a fish farm is a pretty unique place for a body dump. Plus, not everyone knows that trout are carnivorous.

Farm there's out in the boonies, so whoever dumped the body definitely knew of the location.

I'll check out their log books, see if we can figure out who's been coming and going.

Yeah, you should do that.

So, Dr. Brennan, is being back at the Jeffersonian just like riding a bike?

Uh, conducting a forensic examination bears no resemblance to riding a bicycle.

Though both are activities I greatly enjoy.

Well... would you like to do the honors?

Oh, yes! Please.

I really have missed this. (giggles)

(laughs)

Okay. All right, lower it.

Okay.

Brennan: I talked to Booth.

Based on the drag marks at the site, he thinks the victim was transported to the pond for disposal.

Booth's back at work today, too?

Yes.

His brother's death was traumatic, but a routine can be healing in times of stress.

Uh, speaking of, how is Arastoo's job search?

I wouldn't know.

Arastoo and I are taking a break.

Oh. I'm sorry to hear that.

I hope my return to the Jeffersonian was not a factor.

You coming back is what the Jeffersonian needed.

The prominent supra-orbital ridge suggests the victim was male.

And the wear on the mandibular teeth indicates he was in his 40s.

Brennan: There's a great deal of damage to the mandible.

It appears to be perimortem.

Uh, same with the fractures to the right tibia and fibula.

Perhaps they were caused by the same implement?

But we won't be certain until we recover the missing pieces of the mandible.

Fish predation to the organs and flesh is extensive.

Hodgins: That is because Oncorhynchus Mykiss-- otherwise known as rainbow trout-- are total carnivores.

And this variety was bred to eat fast and grow fast.

They are perfect for fish farming.

So, why are they here?

Well, these little fellas were actually feeding on the victim when he was hauled out.

Brennan: Dr. Hodgins, are you positing that the missing mandible fragments are inside those fish?

That's my theory.

And I intend to retrieve them by any means necessary.

♪ Bones 11x03 ♪
The Donor in the Drink
Original Air Date on October 15, 2015

♪ Main Title Theme ♪
The Crystal Method

♪ ♪

Well, there's something unusual about this predation.

Having the victim's flesh nibbled off by trout isn't exactly normal.

True.

But the fish seemed to have eaten several of the victim's internal organs entirely, while others were left intact.

Brennan: I have never seen that before.

Can you detect any pattern?

Not yet.

But I did find several cut marks on the flesh.

There's one here and one in the upper abdominal region.

Brennan: I also found several small nicks to the cortical bone on the left tenth and 11th ribs.

Kn*fe wounds to the chest could mean the victim was stabbed to death.

Saroyan: The predation seems particularly aggressive in the regions closest to the s*ab wound.

It's possible the blood from the wound drew the fish to those areas first.

Bray: I'll take a Mikrosil mold of the nicks to see if I can identify the w*apon that caused it.

You may not need to.

Bray: The tip of the Kn*fe.

It's lodged in the victim's tenth rib.

Yeah, it probably broke off during the stabbing.

Mr. Bray, please remove the Kn*fe remnant and give it to Dr. Hodgins so he can identify the w*apon it came from.

Any luck with the Missing Persons Database?

Well, I was able to narrow it down.

But without the missing chunks of the mandible, it's hard to get an exact match.

Well, maybe this will help.

Montenegro: Ew.

Is that a mustache?

Part of one.

It's almost all that was left of the victim's facial tissue.

All right, I think I have a match for that somewhere.

Hodgins and I were wondering if you wanted to join us for dinner tomorrow night?

Thanks for the invitation, but I've-I've got plans.

I know how hard weekends can be after a breakup.

Really, I'm fine.

Okay.

Uh, let's give this updated image a whirl.

Saroyan: Thank God for handlebar mustaches... is something I never thought I'd say.

Okay, so this is Lloyd Nesbit.

Apparently, reported missing by his assistant.

Assistant in what?

Um...

Okay, well, it looks like Nesbit was an inventor.

Seems like the only invention that took off though was this, the, uh, Flexi-Box.

That was way back in the '90s, though.

Announcer: Introducing the Flexi-box!

Montenegro: I guess that's Nesbit.

The indestructible mailbox that is taking the nation by storm!

You can try smashing it.

You can try crushing it.

But nothing...

Nothing, I mean nothing destroys the Flexi-box.

Aw, man!

I used to love this commercial.

Of course you did.

So, that Flexi-Box is the last hit Nesbit had?

That's one hell of a sophomore slump.

Hodgins: Hey, you got to admire to admire the guy for never giving up on his dream, right?

Even in the face of failure.

Oh, no.

Honey, you're not on that again.

Cam, you got to take a look at this photo that Angie took and tell me that that is not amazing.

Wow, impressive.

Right?

Yeah, I've just started, but I really like it.

Which is why I don't want to ruin the magic by putting my work out there just yet.

But your photos are incredible, Angie.

Thank you, but you're not exactly an art critic, so...

No, but if I showed your work to a professional photographer, I guarantee you they'd say the exact same thing.

Don't you dare!

They lost Jared's ashes?

There's got to be a law against that; I'm gonna make a call.

I got it handled, Aubrey, thanks.

Okay, but this is the last thing you should be dealing with.

I'm here to help.

Appreciate it.

Look at all this junk.

I know, isn't it amazing?

Sign me up for one of these things.

Booth: I thought you already had an exercise machine.

Oh, I thought it was for rotisserie chicken.

Chicken?

How do you get chicken out of that?

I don't understand.

Where would you put chicken?

Aubrey: Tim Diffley?

How you doing? FBI.

Special Agent James Aubrey.

This is my partner...

Special Agent Seeley Booth.

Please tell me this doesn't mean that Lloyd is...

I'm afraid it does.

Lloyd Nesbit was found dead earlier today.

I can't believe it.

Well, you did report him missing.

Yeah, I was hoping that he was injured or sick.

Not that I wanted those things to happen, but anything's better than this.

Nesbit was m*rder*d.

Can you think of anyone who might have had a reason to harm him?

God, no.

Lloyd was a wonderful man.

He was my mentor.

Mentor, right.

So, we did check out your tax returns-- turns out Mr. Wonderful had given you a raise once over the past six years, right?

Money isn't everything.

I got a place to work, I-I got advice.

Trust me, I got a lot out of this relationship.

And now you've got the inventions that you stole from your mentor.

Right. You did, uh, register a patent for jewelry polish, uh, on the day that you reported him missing.

The jewelry polish had nothing to do with Lloyd.

It was entirely my own invention.

So Mr. Nesbit allows you to create your own stuff here in his lab?

Lloyd taught me to never give up.

He always said, "You never know what an invention has the potential to become."

Still, a man's got to eat.

For me, doing what I love alongside a visionary like Lloyd... it was payment enough.

♪

Hey. So, uh, Andie and I were wondering if you wanted to join us for a movie tonight.

Why is it that every happy couple I know treats me like I'm broken now that I'm not in a relationship?

I was... just trying to help.

Well, perhaps you can help by focusing on the case.

Of course.

There's no signs of remodeling to the bones... and... these flesh wounds don't appear to have any scarring.

Lack of extravasation and infiltration of the incised tissue indicate that they were made postmortem.

So he was stabbed by somebody after he was already dead?

Hodgins: Those aren't s*ab marks.

They're surgical incisions.

I traced the tip of the blade that Brennan found.

It's a scalpel.

That explains the pattern I see emerging.

This is the incision a surgeon would make when removing a liver.

Yeah, and these are for the kidneys.

Hodgins: So the fish didn't eat Nesbit's liver and kidneys-- they were already removed before he was dumped in the pond.

Saroyan: Someone harvested this man's internal organs.

(sighs)

All right listen, I've got stats from the FBI.

Okay? Turns out that the illegal organ trade is a booming business.

That's not surprising to me.

Right now, in America, there are over 120,000 people on the transplant waiting list, many of whom will die unless they purchase an organ illegally.

Aha, so you think that it's okay just to go out and purchase a kidney.

Well, legalizing the sale of organs would eliminate the need for the black market and save many lives.

Never happens.

Once money is involved, people, they start lining their pockets, right, greasing palms with other people and they end up dead, like Nesbit.

Oh, people sell blood, men sell sperm, women sell their eggs.

There's even a vibrant, growing market for the sale of donor feces.

Feces?

Why would anyone want that? Donor feces can be used to correct C. difficile issues and are vital to the intestinal health...

Scratch that.

Forget I even asked.

Hold on, let me see what this...

(scoffs) Great.

(slams phone down)

(groans)

Problem with the case?

No, no, it's the mortuary, okay?

They can't seem to locate Jared's ashes.

They don't know where they are.

(sighs)

How can I help, Booth?

You can't help me.

Well, you're clearly upset.

How can I be there for you in your grief if you won't let me in?

This is not grief, okay?

This is me being pissed that my brother's being more of a pain in the ass dead than he was alive.

There's a difference, okay?

Hey, you wanted to show me something?

Guess what I found in the trout t*nk.

Something only you could love?

They're hydropsychidae caddisfly larvae.

Look at that-- blowflies of the deep.

They were eating the body?

Yeah.

And based on their size, I put time of death at about eight days ago.

Okay, I'll let Aubrey know.

Hey, hang on, um, Angie.

There's... there's something else.

You arranged a show for me at Founding Fathers?

And it's tonight?

Well, you wouldn't have agreed if I'd given you advance notice.

I'm not agreeing now.

Come on, Angie.

I just sent out a few postcards.

To whom?

No one, really.

Family, friends.

Couple of art galleries.

You know, dozen or so AP photojournalists...

Wait, you did what?

Well, you would not take my word for how good you are, so I decided to enlist a few professionals.

Hodgins, you have to cancel this thing immediately.

That is correct, Mr. Bray.

The chipping on the left and right calcaneus bones lines up with the marks on the tissue I found on both heels.

So in addition to harvesting Nesbit's liver and kidneys, they also took his Achilles tendons.

And possibly his corneas.

I also found incisions and soft tissue damage around his orbital sockets.

Huh.

Dr. Saroyan, take a look at these striations on the internal aspect of the lateral arch on the left 11th rib.

Those could not be caused by a scalpel.

They appear to be perimortem.

Have Dr. Hodgins swab the wounds for particulates.

If we can identify the w*apon that caused these, it might lead us to our k*ller.

Montenegro: So I've spent the last few hours surfing all the top sites on the Dark Web.

You would not believe what people sell on here.

dr*gs, child p*rn, human organs.

Basically, it's a black market Craigslist.

Yeah.

If our k*ller harvested everything possible, they could have made more than a half million dollars.

You got any suspects?

Well, there are all sorts of brokers from all over the world, but this one, "the Matchmaker," sold, uh, a pair of corneas, kidneys, a liver, pancreas and two Achilles tendons eight days ago.

Well, those are the same body parts that were taken off our victim.

Exactly.

The problem is the Dark Web browsers are super-encrypted, so it'll be next to impossible to track down the Matchmaker's IP address, let alone who they are and where they live.

I think I might have a way to lure this one out of the shadows.

Woman: Are you Jimmy?

I am.

And you came alone?

Just like you told me.

I followed all your instructions.

Good, good.

Trust is very important.

Yeah, but how do I know that I can trust you?

I mean, I'm the one that's giving up a lobe of my liver.

You're doing a good thing.

You're saving someone's life.

Can you at least tell me how much money I'm gonna get?

A young healthy man like yourself?

A lobe of liver is worth 50 grand.

How-how soon can I get the money?

I guarantee that you will leave that medical facility cash in hand.

Now, should we start working on a date?

You know, actually, I think your calendar's gonna be booked up for a while.

Special Agent James Aubrey, FBI.

See, that was just a theoretical conversation.

No actual transaction occurred.

Yeah, we found the money trail connecting you to Lloyd Nesbit's organs.

Who?

You know, the guy that you m*rder*d and stripped for parts?

(scoffs)

Well, now, that's ridiculous.

I want the names of every surgeon that you work with.

Absolutely not.

Uh, what we do is too important.

Yeah.

Maybe you'll feel more like talking after spending a few days in lockup.

So why don't you stand up?

Put your hands behind your back, please.

Up we go.

Booth?

Bones.

What are you doing here?

I have the information you requested.

Why are you sitting at Aubrey's old desk?

(grunts) You know.

(banging)

Only temporary.

No big deal.

I disagree.

You lost your brother, you nearly d*ed.

Shouldn't you be in an office that gives you privacy?

I'll be fine.

It's just temporary, okay? Thank you.

And I don't need you to come here, checking on me, pretending it's about work.

I'm not pretending.

Although, I must say, your behavior does nothing to assuage my concern.

(Booth sighs)

All right, look, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I snapped at you.

It's just... there's a lot going on in here, all right?

Can we just focus on the case?

Angela went through the database of people waiting for transplants to see who was recently taken off the waiting list.

That's great-- potential suspects.

It certainly is more efficient to k*ll for a new organ than to spend months or even years on a waiting list.

Why are there only six suspects?

Those are the only people who are a match for Nesbit's blood type and human leukocyte antigen.

It's about transplant compatibility.

The k*ller had access to Nesbit's medical records, and I think I know who that is.

Okay, don't tell me that this little girl is our k*ller.

Not her. Her father, Rodney Dale.

You're right.

Dale worked doing data entry at the insurance company where Nesbit had medical coverage.

Right, I wouldn't put anything past a guy whose daughter was on death's door.

You mind telling me what this is about?

The kidney that saved your daughter's life, a man named Lloyd Nesbit was m*rder*d for it.

You don't think I...?

I-I would never...

You were desperate, Mr. Dale.

Lauren was dying, so you combed through the files at work till you found someone who was a match for her, then you k*lled him.

You got this all wrong.

We also looked into your financials.

Lauren's health issues put you deep in debt.

So once she had her new kidney, you figured you might as well cash in on the rest of Nesbit's organs to pay off her medical bills.

Uh, that's not how it went.

She would have d*ed on that waiting list.

So I went online... and bought a kidney.

But I had no idea anybody was k*lled for it.

Who performed your daughter's transplant, Mr. Dale?

I can save you some jail time if you tell me who did it.

I can't.

Lauren has Wilson's disease.

The new kidney helps, but down the road, her pancreas might fail.

That surgeon saved my daughter's life once.

I may need him to do it again some day.

And you do realize that you're obstructing an investigation into the m*rder of a man whose kidney is inside your daughter.

I'm sorry, Agent Aubrey.

Hey, you got those mandibular fragments ready for me?

I wish, but the only thing these fish are pooping is poop.

Why is this one separated from the others?

Well, he's my Guinea pig.

I'm thinking that if these fish aren't gonna defecate the bones, maybe they'll regurgitate them.

Bulimic trout.

Interesting.

Well, I just fed them some octocoral diterpenoid to speed up the process, and... Oh!

There it is. Eh?

Yeah.

Now, all I have to do is feed some of that to the rest of them, and there will be more where this came from.

Great. So, Angela told me about the photo show.

Really? Yeah? Does that mean she's finally on board with it?

More like the opposite.

She wants to cancel, but she feels like you're not really hearing her.

So she sent you here to talk me out of it.

Wendell, listen, I know my own wife, and trust me, by the end of the night, Angela is going to be thanking me.

If you say so.

Hey, did you ever get the swab results from the nick on the eleventh rib?

Oh, you know, the mass spec never came up with anything.

But hold on. I got an idea here.

All right, so, there's no trace particulates, but wait a second here.

There are some unusual skin cells.

Since when are skin cells in a wound unusual?

Since they don't match the pigment of our victim.

So they belong to someone else?

Let's find out.

Okay, so this is a blown-up image of the mark on the eleventh rib.

If I can extrapolate the measurements, we should be able to figure out what made it.

It's a screw.

No.

It's not.

It's a trocar button.

Morticians use them to close up holes during the embalming process.

Oh. So it's possible the surgeon was a mortician?

This is all starting to make sense to me now.

Can you pull up the image of the victim's torso?

Yeah.

(beeping)

Okay, the kidneys are attached to the tenth and eleventh ribs by fascia, which has a really strong adhesion.

So, when the scalpel broke off in the victim's tenth rib, the surgeon-- or the mortician-- grabbed whatever sharp-edged tool he could find.

I'll call Booth.

Right.

(phone chimes)

Oh!

Looks like we got a DNA match on the extra skin cells.

They're from a victim of a fatal drive-by sh**ting ten days ago.

Oh, that's great!

Well, if we can find the mortician who handled her funeral, looks like we've found our surgeon.

Brennan: Booth, are you sure going to a funeral home is the best thing for you right now?

The mortician's a suspect, Bones.

Well, I meant because of Jared.

This has nothing to do with him, okay?

It's about the case.

It's only natural that being in a mortuary could stir up feelings of grief.

All right, look, this is not some emotional breakdown, okay?

I just want to find my brother's ashes.

Jared is gone, Booth.

His ashes are merely a physical representation of the man he was.

Okay, look, maybe that's all they are to you, okay, but to me, that's my brother.

His life was troubled enough, all right?

The least I can do is help him rest in peace.

Made you a coffee just like you like it.

Well, if you're trying to soften me up about the show, it's not working.

Actually, I came to apologize.

I know your photography is really personal to you, and I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that.

I'm sorry, Angie.

Thank you.

Whatever I've done, I can undo it.

They really are beautiful, and I'm just so proud of you.

Thank you.

Well, you did soften me up.

Hey, uh, don't undo it.

What?

Uh, I'm... I'm okay with the show.

Really?

Oh, Angie, this is gonna be great.

I'm just gonna send one more e-mail blast reminding people to bring their checkbooks.

I... Uh, Hodgins?

Or we can just see who shows up.

(sighs)

Brennan: Booth?

Booth: Yeah.

Brennan: Funeral's in session.

Look, at least we got to talk to the mortician.

We'll be in and out, nobody will even know that we're here, hmm?

Thank you for coming.

Uncle Willie would be so happy you're here.

Oh, no, we-we're not here...

To mourn Uncle Willie.

We're here to celebrate his life, right?

Yes, of course.

Why did you pretend we knew the deceased?

These people are in mourning, okay?

This day should be about them. Look.

That must be Vargas, the mortician.

Just play it cool.

Can I help you?

Yeah, I need to ask you a few questions.

We're about to begin the service.

Please show some respect.

The same respect you had for Lloyd Nesbit?

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

How did that man die?

Shh!

He d*ed in his sleep. Why?

What is it, Bones?

His upper abdominal area appears unusually deflated for someone with his bone structure and musculature.

What-what do you think you're doing?

Excuse me, this will just take a second.

Ma'am, please step away from the coffin, ma'am!

Ah-ha!

Just as I suspected.

Okay.

(gasps)

Okay, Bones, probably not the best place to do this right now.

Once in awhile...

I took a body part from a client.

Who was I hurting?

They weren't gonna use it anyway.

What about the people that they left behind?

What they didn't know didn't hurt them, and perhaps they would appreciate the fact that their loved ones helped others stay alive.

I think you got greedy, Vargas.

Not every corpse that comes your way can be harvested for parts, so you went out and found your own fresh meat.

That's a ridiculous assumption.

A m*rder victim goes through your chop shop.

Now you're saying you're not the one that k*lled him?

The body was delivered by a trusted friend.

I was told the man d*ed in a car accident.

Let me guess, that friend's name is Nina Slocum?

I never heard of her.

Really?

'Cause I got phone records that say otherwise.

(sighs)

You want me to talk?

FBI must drop all charges against me.

Really?

Is that all you want?

No.

I want it in writing.

(sighs)

Sorry, Vargas.

Guys like you do not get a free pass.

(door opens)

(door closes)

Bray: I finished reassembling the mandible, Dr. B.

You were right.

This impact was clearly caused by blunt-force trauma.

Oh, Vargas told Aubrey the victim was hit by a car.

Please measure the points of impact, Mr. Bray, so we can identify the object that struck the victim.

Judging from the curvature of the wound, a car is a definite possibility.

And these measurements are an exact match to the fractures on the victim's legs.

Hodgins: I got results from swabbing the mandible.

So, I found traces of steel, aluminum oxide, petroleum distillates and silicone emulsifiers.

Were those consistent with an automobile?

Uh, yeah, all of these are common ingredients in car polish.

It appears that Vargas was telling the truth.

So the car hit Nesbit in the leg, knocking him down.

Then once he was on the ground, it smashed him in the jaw and k*lled him.

You found cause of death?

Based on the splintering of the right frontal aspect of the mental eminence, it appears a large shard of the victim's own mandible lacerated his submental artery.

I'll get these measurements to Angela and see if she can find a match for the vehicle.

What's this?

I sent some texts out to the delivery company and they found this in the back of the warehouse.

The labels are gone, but it's the right weight and size for Jared's ashes.

Look, Aubrey, I told you that I would take care of this.

Come on, you'd do the same for me.

(sighs)

(sighs)

Thanks. Appreciate it.

Marmalade.

I'm really sorry, Booth.

It's okay, Aubrey.

You know what, you tried.

I appreciate it.

(phone rings)

Well, if it makes you feel any better, Angela found the make and model of the car that k*lled Nesbit.

Nina Slocum's car is a match.

Aubrey, why don't you just... take this one, and I'll circle back to you.

(sighs)

Please don't tell me there's a grown man digging through my trash right now.

Apple fig.

It's high quality marmalade.

(whistles)

Oh, okay, this is Nina Slocum's car.

Is it a match for the car that hit Nesbit?

Yeah, well, it's a definite possibility.

No damage to the bumpers.

She could have had it replaced.

Huh.

Looks like it's been freshly detailed.

She could be trying to hide something.

Whoa.

Yeah, a whole lot of blood.

Aubrey: We took a look at your car, Nina.

And we found Nesbit's blood in the back of it.

So that's not proof I'm a m*rder*r.

Also did some digging.

Turns out that you grew up down the road from the fish farm where Nesbit's body was dumped.

Okay, fine.

So I threw his body in the pond, but after his organs were properly distributed.

Are you still claiming that you didn't k*ll him?

Of course I didn't.

I'm in the business of saving lives, not ending them.

Nesbit's body was brought to me.

And I just couldn't bear the thought of all those viable organs going to waste.

Who brought you the body?

Look, whoever you're protecting here, Nina, you are not doing yourself any favors.

Maybe not. But the work I do is a matter of life and death.

And if my donors learn that they can't trust me, then I won't be able to save lives.

Yeah, you're a real angel of mercy, protecting a m*rder*r.

Mm. Perhaps you're just too young to understand this, Agent Aubrey, but doing the right thing is rarely the same as doing the easy thing.

I'm beginning to think this is a case where nobody wins.

How is that, Mr. Bray?

If we prove that Nina Slocum's guilty of Nesbit's m*rder and lock her up, then we're basically handing over a death sentence to a bunch of people who need organs.

Our job is to apprehend a m*rder*r, regardless of the repercussions.

(sighs softly)

Something is troubling about the blunt force trauma to the mandible.

I triple-checked my work.

My initial measurements were accurate.

It's not the size of the wound, it's the angle.

In order for this shard of mental eminence to puncture the victim's artery, the blunt force trauma would have to have been made in a downward sweeping angle.

But that angle wouldn't make sense if the victim was hit by a car.

Exactly.

Were you able to detect any bone bruising to the occipital, ulnas or the sacrum?

Three for three.

All injuries that are consistent with falling backwards after being hit by a moving vehicle.

I am no longer convinced the victim was struck by a car.

I'll need Angela to recreate the trauma in greater detail.

Montenegro: So I've run multiple simulations of Nina Slocum's car hitting Nesbit, but there's no scenarios where her car could cause that injury.

I thought Nina's bumper was a match for the wounds to Nesbit's leg and jaw.

In size, yes, but the angle of impact doesn't match.

Maybe Nina didn't use her own car.

Okay, well, here are all the makes and models of cars that match the victim's wounds.

The placement of the injuries makes sense, but the momentum of being hit by one of these vehicles would have caused a lot more damage.

So Nesbit wasn't hit by a car.

But he may have been hit with a piece of one.

What about the bumper guard?

I don't know what that is.

It's an accessory.

It's that thing right there.

Let me see what happens when I remove the bumper guard from the vehicle.

Is it possible to place the bumper guard in an assailant's hands?

Okay. Assailant avatar coming up.

If the k*ller used the bumper guard to hit Nesbit in the leg, it could've caused him to fall backwards.

Brennan: And then, when he's on the ground, the k*ller struck him in the jaw with a downward sweeping motion, k*lling him.

It works.

Looks like we found our m*rder w*apon.

Booth!

Yeah.

Just the man I'm looking for.

Uh, listen--

Hold on, let me just grab something off my desk.

What the hey?

Where's... where is Bobblehead Bobby, and who's moving my stuff without asking me?

This is what I wanted to show you.

Booth: Oh, wow.

Look at this, huh?

This is great.

Huh?

(chuckles)

You're sure you're okay with this, right?

Come on, what do you think, I'm gonna steal an office from the guy who taught me everything I know?

So you gonna move out back in the bullpen?

Yeah, I got myself some new digs upstairs.

Corner office, view of the Mall.

Oh, Mr. Big sh*t, huh?

Here I was worried, you know, what you would do without me.

Well, learned from the best.

Well, yeah...

(phone ringing)

You got something, Bones?

Nesbit wasn't k*lled by a car, he was k*lled by someone wielding a metal bumper guard.

Nina Slocum's car didn't have one of those.

Yeah, so the bumper could've come from anywhere.

Which means we're back at square one.

No, no, no, hold on.

Hodgins said there was car polish found in the wound, right?

Yes, but I don't see how that helps us.

Don't worry, I got this one.

What's that?

That's your jewelry polish.

Lab found traces of it in the victim's jaw.

What happened, Tim, huh?

Nesbit wasn't a big fan of your polish, so you tried repurposing it into a car polish?

Aubrey: Just like Nesbit taught you, "never give up on anything."

Lloyd hated it as a car polish as much as he hated it as a jewelry polish.

That's why you hit Nesbit with the bumper guard and you k*lled him.

No, that's not true.

Come on, Tim, Tim.

Help us out here, okay?

Because we got a check here for $30,000 that you gave to your boss.

I'm pretty sure we know where that came from.

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

Lift up your shirt.

What?

Lift your shirt up, unless you want me to get a warrant so I can look at your stomach. Lift it up!

Aubrey: Wow.

Gave up your right kidney to fund your boss's work.

That's what I call job devotion.

He said it was the only way that I could keep my job.

And I was so sure that our big payday was right around the corner.

Yeah, well, that day never came, so you hit him.

It was an accident.

Maybe it was an accident, but you know what, selling off his organs to Nina Slocum, that wasn't an accident.

He was dead.

I was just trying to make something good out of what happened.

So you hacked up your dead boss's body to make a profit.

No, to save lives.

To make up for the one that I took.

Isn't that worth anything?

Hey, do you have a minute?

Uh, please, come in, Dr. Saroyan.

(sighs)

I, um... I just wanted to say that I don't blame you for what happened between me and Arastoo.

Nor should you.

I am finding it hard to accept that I may have to choose between my relationship and my job.

That's not an easy dilemma.

And everyone's being so kind to me, and I... I miss Arastoo.

But... you know, what bothers me most is that I may actually be okay with it.

I mean, choosing work over Arastoo.

And it makes you feel guilty?

Wouldn't you?

Doesn't mean you made the wrong choice.

♪

Montenegro: See?

Told you nobody would come.

What do you mean?

Look, there's Aubrey.

Look, Cam and Wendell made it.

Wow, three whole people.

And four if you count that homeless guy.

Come on.

Aubrey: Angela, hey.

Great show.

Thanks.

Let me guess. The aged Camembert is your favorite, right?

What? No.

It's the black and white one with the light and the trees.

What? Come on.

Guy can't enjoy a little culture with his free cheese?

Oh, hey, guys.

Nice work, Angela.

You put on quite a show.

Hodgins: Whoa, Angie, check it out.

Your photography is selling like hotcakes.

Look at this.

It's, like, practically a bidding w*r.

Yeah, except I recognize this handwriting.

Hodgins put you guys up to this, didn't he?

We were just trying to get things started.

Saroyan: Mm-hmm.

Oh, who signed Sebastian Kohl's name?

That's just cruel.

I didn't do that.

Don't look at me.

Hodgins: Sebastian Kohl.

Why do I know that name?

He's a world-famous photojournalist, two-time Pulitzer Prize winner.

That is just mean.

Seriously, Angie, I did not do that, but I did drop off all those postcards at the A.P. offices.

What makes you think Sebastian Kohl would come to a place like Founding Fathers?

You think this is bad, you should check out the bar scene in Dakar.

Sebastian Kohl.

And you must be Ms. Montenegro.

Oh, wow.

It's really you.

(chuckles)

Please excuse the outfit.

I just touched down after a month-long trek in Cambodia when I received this.

See?

Uh... (laughs)

I'm-I'm really honored to meet you.

Um, I-I can't believe that you came.

How could I miss an opportunity to see more work by the artist who took this?

Oh, yeah, that's a, um...

I'm just starting in this photo thing.

Embrace it.

Do you mind shipping this photo to me?

I'm heading off on assignment in the morning.

I mean, of course. Yes.

I-I'll... anything.

I'll hand-deliver it to you.

(chuckles) Wherever you are.

That may be difficult.

I'm going to Syria.

But you could send it to this address.

Okay.

Thank you for coming.

Of course.

Safe travels.

Thank you.

So should I say it now or later?

Fine.

You told me so.

I did, didn't I?

(laughs)

Bones, will you...

Shh-shh.

What?

The kids are asleep.

But there's something you need to see.

Okay.

Christine wanted to have a sleepover with Hank.

Wow. Look at that, huh?

She even made him little pictures, huh?

Brennan: Yes, but that's not what I wanted you to see.

It's how she got in and out of Hank's crib.

It's the box.

You want to open it?

Maybe later.

I thought you'd be glad to find Jared's ashes.

No, I am. It's just, you know, you were right, Bones.

Look, this wasn't about finding Jared's ashes, this was about my brother being gone.

I know how much you miss him.

Let's go. I don't want the kids to wake up.

You want to take the box?

No, I tell you what, why don't we just leave it here so she can visit her brother in the morning.

Girl really loves her brother, doesn't she?

Yes, she does.