Me: Try and guess this quote: All objects in the universe are unique. No two things that happen by chance ever happen in exactly the same way. No two things are ever constructed or manufactured in exactly the same way. No two things wear in exactly the same way. No two things ever break in exactly the same way.
Grissom: Joe Nickell.
Me: …damn you.
Grissom: Try and guess this one: All good music resembles something. Good music stirs by its mysterious resemblance to the objects and feelings which motivated it.
Me: Uh…Jean Cocteau.
Grissom: Show off.
Me: Oh! I'm writing a better version of Nick and Abby's love story. Anyone wanna help me come up with a really good name for it?
Sounds of Silence: A deaf man was run over by a car, leaving Grissom, Sara and Warrick to figure out what happened leading up to his death and who killed him after discovering that he was already dying before being run over. The case also reveals a secret about Grissom that no one (except Kady) knew about. Meanwhile, Catherine and Nick are investigating an apparent mob hit in a local coffee shop that resulted in the deaths of five people.
Next, Justice is Served: A jogger is gruesomely killed during a vicious dog attack in the park. Grissom, Nick and Warrick discover that his liver was surgically removed just moments later. Meanwhile, Sara grows concerned when Catherine gets emotionally involved in their case, which involves the death of a six-year-old girl on a carnival ride.
Then, Evaluation Day: Grissom reaches the day he has to evaluate his team. However, the cases that are thrown at the Graveyard shift delay him from the evaluations. Along with Catherine, he deals with the discovery of a severed head in the trunk of a car while Sara and Nick investigate a headless body that appears to fell from the sky. Warrick is in charge of a murder in a juvenile detention centre where his young friend James is the only witness.
Later, Strip Strangler: A signature killer is torturing, raping and killing young women who are single parents to daughters under the age of five and brutally killing their daughters. Grissom and his team find catching the Strip Strangler to be a challenge as he possesses satisfactory knowledge of forensics to leave very little evidence behind. Much to Grissom's dismay, the Sheriff decides to involve Special Agent Culpepper from the FBI. The anger that Nick and Grissom share will only grow when he want to use Sara and Kady as bait.
ENJOY!
"That club was hot!" Charlotte crowed as she and Lisa drove down the road after spending time in a nightclub.
"We're just warming up, my girl," Lisa proclaimed as she turned into a new street.
"Wait, wait, wait. I don't think this is the right way," Charlotte protested.
"It's a shortcut," was all Lisa said to her.
"A shortcut to where?" Charlotte laughed.
All laughter disappeared as they went over something. The car shook as it landed on the road again roughly. Charlotte immediately knew that something was wrong. Even if she didn't know the area.
"Stop. Stop the car," Charlotte pleaded as she looked back.
"It was just a pothole," Lisa assumed as she looked through the mirror.
"I think you hit someone!" Charlotte gasped.
The sound of tires screeching against the road echoed through the night.
Grissom and Sara stepped out of the car after it slowed to a stop in the road. Immediately, they approached Sergeant O'Riley who was in charge of this case. Warrick was already there snapping photos of the crime scene.
"Blonde behind the wheel. Girlfriend in the passenger seat called it in. Vehicular manslaughter," O'Riley explained.
"Taillight?" Sara guessed as she referred to the evidence markers and the broken taillight.
"Yeah," Warrick nodded.
Grissom shone his flashlight briefly over the body and the surrounding road. Immediately, he noticed the six-pack of beer in a plastic bag.
"You been drinking, Warrick?" Grissom asked.
"No. I'm having a block party," Warrick answered sarcastically before adding, "I marked where I found it – over on that sidewalk over there."
Sara and Grissom placed their kits on the ground and began examining the body themselves. Grissom slid the victim's shirt upwards, bunching it underneath his armpits and revealing his chest and the bruises that stained it. Sara immediately began taking photos.
"Two distinct tire treads – one wide…one narrow," Grissom observed.
"Given the extensive bruising from the wide tread mark, victim was killed by a larger vehicle. Not that compact," Sara realized.
Grissom took off his glasses as he turned to look at O'Riley who was escorting the two girls to his car for booking. However, he stopped when Grissom called him.
"Hey, O'Riley! I wouldn't book those suspects just yet. I think they ran over a corpse," Grissom proclaimed.
Insert main titles here
When Nick and Catherine arrived at the crime scene, they flashed the siren on and off. Their aim was to get attention from Grissom and Sara. And it worked. They walked over as Catherine rolled down her window so she and Nick could talk to them. Immediately, Grissom and Sara noticed that Kady was in the backseat.
"What's up?" Sara asked as she and Grissom waved to Kady, smiling as she waved back.
"We got a call about ten minutes ago – a shooting at Vegas Grounds Coffee Shop, Eighth and Main. Multiple fatalities," Nick began.
"We want this one," Catherine finished.
"You guys get over there. Keep me in the loop. Keep the media out of it," Grissom instructed.
"Right," Catherine nodded before shifting in her seat and coughing to regain Grissom's attention, "Hey. Remember about three months ago, I applied to the American Academy meeting in Chicago? Well, the deadline for your approval is end of shift today."
"It's not a problem," Grissom reassured her.
"There's important papers to be presented…," Catherine began rambling.
"You don't have to explain. Consider it done," Grissom promised.
"Thank you," Catherine thanked.
"Good luck," Grissom wished.
"Roll down the back window," Sara requested.
Nick did, knowing what was going to come next. Both Grissom and Sara walked to the back. Nick and Catherine heard the sound of Kady's giggles as Grissom and Sara kissed her and hugged her. It was as if Grissom and Sara were Kady's parents rather than Nick, even though that he knew it would never be true unless something happened that left him unable to care for her.
"Printed your hit-and-run. AFIS found a match. Brian Clemonds. 22. Born in Vegas. And he's deaf," Doc Robbins began informing Grissom, Sara and Warrick of his findings.
"You can tell he's death by his fingerprints?" Sara asked in amazement.
"Actually, yes. He was printed as part of a state aid program in '81. To confirm, I examined his ear canal. Normally, the malleus is shaped like a hammer – a long, smooth handle connecting to a blunt head – but Brian's malleus is knotted, both of them. Birth defect," Doc Robbins explained.
"There's a college for the deaf about a mile from where we found him," Grissom pointed out.
"So Brian takes a walk across the street, doesn't hear the car, gets creamed," Warrick shrugged.
"The vehicle – probably a truck or an SUV based on the width of the tire tread – takes off. Later, along comes a compact – thump – runs over his dead body," Sara added.
"Maybe. Maybe not," Doc Robbins objected as he removed the sheet slightly and lifted Brian's bloodied right hand, "See the dried blood on his knuckles? No associated wounding. Blood's probably not his."
"Yu know what that means: smackdown. The kid was in a fight," Warrick proclaimed.
"That ended in murder," Sara piped in.
"Did you send a sample of his blood to DNA?" Grissom asked.
"When you find the suspect, you'll nail him with his own body fluid," Doc Robbins answered.
"Has his family been notified?" Grissom questioned.
"Not yet," Doc Robbins sighed sadly.
After all, one of the worst parts of the job is notifying the family of the victim. However, it would be even worse if the victim was a child.
"One person dead, it's a shame. More than one's a party," Nick stated as he and Catherine walked up the sidewalk towards the coffee shop, carefully avoiding the press.
"Get ready to pull a double," Catherine warned.
"Thank you," Nick said sarcastically as they signed in with the officer.
Like everyone else in the lab, Nick always dreaded pulling doubles, triples and God knows what. Even more when his wife died and his daughter was born. The lab wasn't the best place to raise her. He knew that. But he still did it. But it wasn't because he felt as if there was no other option. There was a deeper meaning. Aside from the fact that he wanted to keep Kady close, especially with the dangers that come with the job.
Nick began approaching one of the bodies on the floor. However, something else caught his attention. He set Kady down and held her hand as they walked over to a portable CD player. He lifted the earphones and even though they were only up to his knees and Kady's head, he could hear the music loud and clear.
"Speed Metal. Couldn't hear a bomb go off over this," Nick remarked as Brass walked up to them.
"Welcome to the caffeine wars. I got four dead. One on the way to the hospital. The kid who belonged to those headphones," Brass told them.
"I count two," Catherine observed, "Where are the others?"
"One behind the counter. One in the backroom," Brass answered.
"Guy wasn't light with the ammo. This place is raining shell casings," Nick observed as Brass settled Kady onto his hip, "Are you guys ever gonna stop stealing my daughter from me?"
"Nope," Brass, Catherine and the officer outside chorused together.
Catherine walked up to one of the bodies lying before the counter. Immediately, she recognized him. In fact, everyone from that era would.
"Hey. I know this guy," Catherine said.
"I bet you do. Who doesn't know Frankie Flynn?" Brass retorted, "Used to own the Orpheus. Lost his gaming license a couple of years ago."
"Oh yeah. Too many dips in the chips," Catherine recalled.
"Yeah. You got that right," Brass remarked.
"Who's the muscle?" Nick asked.
"This is Al Robson – Frankie Flynn's bodyguard," Brass answered.
"Cash taken?" Nick wanted to know.
"Till's full and all the wallets are accounted for. I don't think anyone was interested in the, uh, cash…or the coffee," Brass said.
"You thinking hit?" Nick guessed as he and Catherine headed for the back of the counter.
"Maybe," Brass shrugged as he looked around, "Frankie drives a bulletproof car. What does that tell you?"
Catherine and Nick noticed the dead waitress behind the counter. Catherine closed her eyes and sighed. Nick immediately snatched Kady from Brass, suddenly filled with the overwhelming urge to keep his young daughter close.
"She's probably still in high school," Nick moaned as they walked into the back of the shop…only to find the other waitress dead, "Bless her heart."
"Assuming Flynn was the target and it was a hit, the shooter followed Flynn in the front door. Shot the muscle first, then Flynn and some poor kid minding his business. The girls were last. Four dead. One is still alive," Catherine proclaimed, only to have Brass' beeper kill the mood.
"Make that five. Guy died on the way to the hospital," Brass announced.
Grissom and an officer walked up to the front door of the Clemonds residence. Grissom rang the doorbell. He really didn't want to do this. Unfortunately, it was one of the downsides of the job. Especially when the door opened.
"Mrs Clemonds?" Grissom asked.
"Yes?" Mrs Clemonds nodded.
"My name is Gil Grissom. I'm with the Las Vegas Crime Lab," Grissom introduced himself as he held up his badge.
"Crime Lab?" Mrs Clemonds repeated in confusion.
"May I come in for a minute?" Grissom requested kindly.
"OK," she nodded as she let Grissom in, who immediately noticed the bell near the floorboards, "My son is deaf. That bell is connected to the doorbell."
"The bell sets off vibrations which reverberate on the floorboards so that he knows someone's at the door," Grissom explained.
"Yes," Mrs Clemonds agreed.
"Mrs Clemonds, I'm here about your son, Brian. There's no easy way to say this," Grissom began.
"Oh God. Please no," Mrs Clemonds pleaded as she began to cry.
"Brian was killed tonight," Grissom finished what he was saying.
"No, no, no," Mrs Clemonds kept on muttering through her tears as she slowly sat on the couch, "This is my fault."
"No. No it's not," Grissom disagreed.
"When I was pregnant, I had the German measles and the virus took away his hearing. It's my fault," Mrs Clemonds protested.
"No, Mrs Clemonds," Grissom continued to disagree before revealing, "We think he might have been murdered."
"Murdered?" Mrs Clemonds repeated in disbelief.
"Would you like to talk to a Family Services Counsellor?" Grissom offered.
"Talking is overrated, Mr Grissom. Just find out who did this to my boy. Please," Mrs Clemonds pleaded.
"It's been a hell of a night. First the deaf kid. Now a hit," Doc Robbins remarked before warning, "It's going to take a while to process all the bodies."
"What do you know about Flynn?" Catherine asked.
"I always start with the celebrities. Frankie Flynn. 38. Gunshot wounds to the head and the abdomen," Doc Robbins answered.
"Any bullets recovered?" Catherine wanted to know.
"Only one. Out of the head. Nine millimetre .357. I deal with the pin cushions. Ballistics deals with the pins. Shooter could have saved himself a lot of trouble if he'd waited a month of two," Doc Robbins said.
"Why?" Catherine demanded.
"Invasive colon cancer. On his way out," Doc Robbins responded.
"Guess he got off easy," Catherine remarked, earning a hum from Grissom as she turned to the blonde waitress lying next to him, someone who almost resembled Abby, "I.D?"
"Erin McCarty. 20," David Phillips answered on Doc Robbins' behalf.
"Wonder if she even knew she was pregnant," Doc Robbins mused.
"Just keeps getting better. Someone notify the husband?" Catherine asked.
"Cop said she's single. She lives at home with her mother," Doc Robbins told her.
"How far along was she?" Catherine wanted to know.
"About six weeks," David answered.
"She knew," Catherine nodded.
Cameras flashed in the coffee shop as Nick took photos of evidence markers three and four. They were marking blood spatter. After taking the photos, Nick collected a swab of the blood. Brass was playing with Kady as Nick removed a bullet casing from the wall.
"Another nine millimetre. Just like our casings," Nick observed.
"Yeah. Nine bullets. All the same calibre. Looks like Robson never got a shot off. I wouldn't want him as my bodyguard," Brass remarked as Catherine walked in.
"Need help with the measurements?" Catherine offered.
"Sure," Brass nodded as he ruffled Kady's hair, laughing as Kady grumbled and tried to fix it.
"Captain, I got the manager waiting outside," Officer Metcalf announced.
Brass, Nick and Catherine walked outside with Officer Metcalf where they say the manager, Brad Kendall, standing outside waiting to talk to someone and learn about what happened. Along the way, Nick had grabbed Kady's hand and led her out carefully so she didn't contaminate evidence accidentally.
"OK," Brass said.
"That's the guy over there," Officer Metcalf pointed for them.
"This one?" Brass wanted to check.
"Yep. That's the one," Officer Metcalf agreed.
Brass cleared his throat once they were close enough, successfully gaining attention, "I'm Detective Brass. Catherine Willows, Nick Stokes from the Crime Lab."
"Brad Kendall. I heard it on the news. They're saying it was some kind of a hit. Where are Erin and Alice?" Brad demanded.
"They didn't make it," Brass answered.
"Did you call their parents?" Brad sighed.
"Once the coroner makes a positive I.D, their families will be notified," Nick promised.
"Shooting occurred around closing time. Is it customary for your employees to close up?" Catherine asked.
"Erin locked up twice a week. 10:00 on the nose. She was training Alice. Moving on at the end of the month. I can't believe they're gone," Brad sobbed.
Sara and Warrick never had the opportunity to experience interviewing someone with a disability such as hearing loss. So they were going to have trouble with Dr Gilbert when they interview her with an interpreter.
"Dr Gilbert," Sara began loudly as she did something that was wrong – look at the interpreter, causing Dr Gilbert to not be able to see what Sara's saying, "We need your help. Brian Clemonds was murdered."
"Was he having any difficulties?" Warrick asked as he, too, turned to look at the interpreter.
"Anyone have a grudge against him?" Sara questioned, causing Dr Gilbert to shake her head, something that Sara misinterprets, "We understand you don't want a homicide investigation upsetting your students."
"I'm severely deaf. And I can communicate fine," Dr Gilbert proclaimed, surprising Sara and Warrick, "I'd appreciate it if you'd look at me when you speak to me. I wear a hearing aid and I can read lips. You could have asked if I needed an interpreter."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you," Sara apologized, still in shock.
"There are 152 students at my school. We live together, we study together, we eat together. We're a family. And Brian is dead," Dr Gilbert rambled.
"Dr Gilbert, we're just following protocol. We need to speak with Brian's friends; his roommates," Warrick requested.
"We'll also need access to his records," Sara added.
"The crime didn't happen here. It happened out there," Dr Gilbert protested.
"I'm not accusing anybody of anything," Sara defended herself.
"Neither am I. But there are more of you, right? Send someone else. Someone with more understanding of this school and my students," Dr Gilbert requested.
"But we're here now. And evidence is time-sensitive," Warrick responded.
"How can you solve a crime without understanding the victim?" Dr Gilbert retorted as she signed something to the interpreter in frustration.
"Um…she's kicking us out," Halley translated, signing an apology to Dr Gilbert.
Sara and Warrick were just parking their car in the police department parking lot when Grissom got out of his own. Immediately, he wanted to know how it went.
"Hey," Warrick greeted.
"How'd it go at the college?" Grissom asked.
"They're not cooperating," Sara answered.
"Yeah. We didn't have a warrant. So she kicked us out," Warrick explained.
"What did you do?" Grissom demanded.
"What did we do?" Sara repeated, "We met with the president. Asked a few questions."
"She was kind of hostile," Warrick recalled.
"Like it's out fault we can hear," Sara added.
"Alright. Let's go," Grissom decided.
Dr Gilbert was working behind her desk when she heard the door open. When she looked up, she saw that Sara and Warrick had returned even after she had told them to stay away. However, this time, they came back with a new face. And that new face is Grissom.
"Dr Gilbert? I'm Gil Grissom with the Crime Lab. You kicked my people out of your office," Grissom said.
"Well, I'm kicking you out too," Dr Gilbert said harshly as she stood up and indicated to the door as if she was saying, 'There's the door. Don't let it hit you in the ass on the way out.'
Grissom held his hands up to stop her from doing so. He continued to speak to her. But…he did something else as he spoke to her. He spoke with more than his mouth.
He spoke with his hands.
"Look. Your student is dead. Don't you want to know who's responsible?" Grissom asked, signing as he spoke, "I do."
Sara and Warrick turned to look at each other. Surprise was written all over their faces. The same thought was echoing in their heads.
Since when did Grissom know sign language?
"Your people can't solve this crime," Dr Gilbert continued to protest.
"Why? 'Cause they don't understand the victim? Help them understand," Grissom pleaded her, continuing to sign.
"When a deaf person meets a hearing person, the hearing person so much as says, 'I'm normal. You're not'," Dr Gilbert pointed out.
"Is that what you think I'm saying? A student is dead. Maybe you feel responsible. Maybe you're angry. But don't be angry with us. We want to help you," Grissom promised her.
"If I agree to cooperate, you will include me in your investigation?" Grissom wanted to know.
"Yes. I will. I welcome your involvement. Now may I see Brian Clemonds' file? Please?" Grissom asked.
"I did nothing wrong," Dr Gilbert stated as Grissom looked through his file in the file room.
"Brian filed six complaints against his roommate – Paul Arrington," Grissom observed.
"Paul lost his hearing less than a year ago – a tumour. He hasn't adjusted. He's angry," Dr Gilbert explained.
"And he took it out on Brian. Assaulted him. Brian requested a new roommate. Request denied?" Grissom read in disbelief.
"There were no other available beds," Dr Gilbert defended her actions.
"I want to speak to Paul," Grissom requested.
"He doesn't read lips or sign," Dr Gilbert warned.
Grissom also signed what his statement, "You don't need to hear or speak to communicate. Or…commit murder."
"So you going to tell us how you learned to sign?" Sara asked as she, Grissom and Warrick waited in the hallway for Paul to arrive.
"No," Grissom answered.
"Well, the president of the college is a real whack job," Sara said.
"Sara, you see deafness as a pathology. For Dr Gilbert, her deafness is not her handicap. It's her way of life," Grissom immediately came to Dr Gilbert's defence.
"You know, I think you might be siding with her," Sara accused.
"As long as you see this as us versus them, you're going to have problems on this case," Grissom warned.
"The roommate's here," Warrick announced as he turned and saw Dr Gilbert approaching them…
With Paul Arrington.
"This explains what we're doing," Grissom told Dr Gilbert as he handed her a piece of paper, "I need for Paul to read it."
"What was that all about?" Sara wanted to know as she shut the door to the observation room, "Grissom signs!"
"Do you know what Grissom drinks when he goes out at night?" Warrick asked.
"He goes out?" Sara repeated in disbelief.
"Exactly. The only person who would know the most about this guy is our four-year-old goddaughter," Warrick stated before watching Grissom place a headband on Paul's head, "Hey. Check this out."
"Oh, I've read about this machine. Very Frankenstein," Sara remarked.
"Brain printing. They call it a visual polygraph," Warrick explained.
"You've used one of these before?" Sara asked in amazement.
"Yeah. Around the same time Kadelin was born, Grissom and I used one to interview this rapist. The guy was mute but his brain waves spoke loud and clear," Warrick recalled.
"So you show the suspect slides of the crime scene and if he's our guy…," Sara started.
"Then the oscillator will give him away," Warrick finished.
Grissom had set the machine up and was beginning to show numerous slides for Paul to see. The first one was of Dr Gilbert. Grissom studied the monitor carefully.
"Good, he recollects you," Grissom observed as he changed the photo to one of the college, "He recollects the college."
The next slide was a no-brainer. Even Grissom knew this. How can Paul not remember the person he shares a room with?
"He recollects Brian," Grissom stated as he changed the photo to one of the crime scene, "This is the shot of the crime scene. …no recollection."
Then he changed the photo to the last one in the slideshow: the photo of Brian dead on the road. Paul tried not to show it. But the sight of his roommate like that upset him. Immediately, he began to regret taking his anger out on Brian. It wasn't his fault he ended up with a tumour. Something like that can happen to anyone – even the healthiest person on the planet. It also wasn't his fault that he lost his hearing because of said brain tumour. That was something that couldn't be predicted. Inwardly, he relaxed when Dr Gilbert rubbed his shoulder in comfort. However, he could help but wonder what would have happened if he wasn't like that to Brian?
Would he still be dead?
"No recollection of the crime scene or of Brian under these conditions," Grissom sighed as he turned off the monitor and disconnected Paul from the oscillator.
Grissom grabbed the pen and pad that was before them so Brian could communicate to them. He wrote three words before pushing the pad back towards Paul:
I'm sorry, Paul
Grissom stepped back, allowing everything to sink in for Paul. Paul just shook his head and pushed the pad away. He wasn't ready to accept this. Not yet. Paul walked out of the room. Dr Gilbert went to follow…not without a final word with Grissom.
"If you want to find the killer, look outside the school."
"GRISSOM!"
Catherine's yell immediately caused Grissom to spin around. However, her yell was muffled. It was then that he removed the earplugs from his ears and placed them on his desk. As soon as he did, the sounds of the office life greeted his ears. The taps from the keyboards. The shrill ring of the phone. The chatter of the employees. Everything. Something he lived without for hours.
"Sorry. I was thinking," Grissom apologized.
"About what it's like to be deaf?" Catherine guessed.
"About what it's like to hear," Grissom corrected.
"Sara told me that you spoke in sign and now you're putting plugs in your ears," Catherine observed.
"I'm on a case," was all Grissom said.
Catherine just hummed and asked, "Is that why you forgot about the conference?"
"The what?" Grissom stuttered in confusion.
"You missed the deadline. No Chicago for me," Catherine announce, causing Grissom's face to fall in recollection.
"Oh, Catherine," Grissom sighed.
"This is the one meeting I needed to attend. I don't always want to be second banana. I can probably do your job. I know that I can do Ecklie's," Catherine remarked.
Grissom couldn't come up with any argument for that. Catherine had pretty good points. When he leaves, she would be the one he would choose to take over as Graveyard supervisor. And…there was no doubt that she can do Ecklie's job better than Ecklie. It's not that hard really. Ecklie gets promotions because he kisses butt…and he MIGHT be more political than Grissom.
"I forgot. I'm so sorry," Grissom apologized.
"Make sure to submit the paperwork by the end of the day," Catherine requested.
"I thought you said that it was too late!" Grissom protested.
"Well, I knew you'd forget so I upped the deadline. Gave you a buffer. Don't forget again," was all Catherine said before leaving the room and Grissom began searching his desk for the paperwork, "Oh. Does anyone know you sign?"
"I teach Kadelin," Grissom answered.
"That girl is too smart for her own good," Catherine grumbled before leaving.
"Those the tire treads from the crime scene?" Warrick guessed as he walked into the lab carrying an evidence box and setting it on the table.
Sara nodded before proceeding to explaining what she was doing, "I photo'ed the victim's torso and imaged the tread mark – scanned it – got it running through a tread assistance CD ROM."
"Any hits?" Warrick asked.
"Not yet. CD database. 11033 patterns," Sara answered, causing Warrick to exhale as he took out Brian's jumper, "Could take a while."
"Yeah," Warrick immediately agreed.
"What are you doing?" Sara wanted to know.
"Checking out the dead guy's clothes," Warrick answered as he noticed a familiar creepy crawly crawling on Brian's jumper, "Whoa. What are these?"
"What?" Sara asked as she walked over to take a look.
"They look like lice," Warrick observed, causing Sara to back away.
"Lice?" Sara repeated.
"Wasn't our dead guy clean?" Warrick asked.
"Yeah. He was. Lice adhere to hair follicles. I didn't find any stray hairs on him," Sara recalled. (Me: Oh great. Jason: What? Me: My head's really itchy. Jason: You don't have lice, do you? Me: No! You know that thing where whenever someone mentions lice, your head starts itching? Jason: Oh yeah. That psychosomatic thing. Me: I hate it.)
"Well, he was in a fight, right? Maybe his attacker had lice and they crawled off on his sweater and they got comfy and the stray hair blew away," Warrick shrugged as Grissom walked into the room.
"Hey. Any luck on the tire treads?" Grissom asked.
"Computer's still processing," Sara answered, "But Warrick found something pretty interesting."
"You know anything about lice?" Warrick wanted to know.
"Yeah. They make your head itch. And, after head colds, the most common medical problem affecting children," Grissom responded.
"Little problem no one talks about, huh?" Warrick remarked as Greg ran into the lab.
"Hey, Grissom. Can I see you a second? Stat," Greg requested before waving at Sara and running off.
"Stay in the tire treads," Grissom instructed Sara, "Warrick?"
"Yeah. Right behind you," Warrick requested as they left after he got a sample of the lice.
Sara continued to examine through the evidence on the table while waiting for a match for the tire treads. She poured out all the contents of one bag onto the table. It was the broken taillight. Immediately, she looked at the serial numbers. However, it was incomplete.
"A few more numbers and this would have been cake," Sara grumbled.
"Guess who used to sign Brad Kendall's paychecks six years ago?" Brass challenged Catherine as they sat in his office.
"Frankie Flynn," Catherine answered as she read the headline Brass was holding up: IT'S A HIT, FRANKIE FLYNN MURDERED!
"Oh yeah," Brass nodded as Brad walked into the office, "Hey, Brad. Thanks for coming in. We just got a few more questions."
"Sure," Brad nodded as Brass and Catherine sat down again (they stood when he walked in).
"So you used to work for Frankie Flynn?" Brass asked.
"Yeah. At the Orpheus. I was a waiter in the coffee shop. He came in all the time," Brad recalled.
"Sit down. Sit down," Brass invited, causing Brad to sit down, "Did you see him outside the coffee shop?"
"Once in a while," Brad sighed, "He owned the place. He was everywhere."
"Why don't you tell us about your CCW permit?" Catherine suggested.
"I make cash deposits. I carry a concealed weapon," was all Brad said.
"What kind?" Catherine asked.
"Glock. Nine millimetre," Brad answered.
"We'll need to see the weapon and any spare ammo," Brass requested.
"Yeah. Of course. I'll bring it in," Brad nodded.
"I am the man!" Greg proclaimed as Grissom and Warrick walked into the lab.
"Why? What did you do?" Warrick asked, "Let me guess. You ran a DNA profile on the blood from the dead guy's knuckles and you got a match."
"No," Greg shook his head.
"You ran a DNA profile and something very distinctive popped up?" Grissom guessed.
"Not quite," Greg disagreed.
"You made it out of bed and you dressed yourself?" Warrick smirked.
"No," Greg grumbled.
"What is it, Greg?" Grissom demanded in frustration, silently wondering why he hired him.
"Just put your nose down the scope," was all Greg said.
Grissom did…and immediately noticed something interesting as well as realise why he hired Greg to begin with.
"Dots of blue light on a red sea," Grissom observed.
"Pyroverdin," Greg proclaimed.
"Pyroverdin. A pigment excreted from pseudomonas aeruginosa which is a bacteria occasionally found in the bloodstream," Grissom explained.
"So what does that give us?" Warrick wanted to know.
"Your killer has fluorescent blue dots in his blood," Greg said.
"So the guy's a glow stick. How does that help us track him down?" Warrick asked.
"Haven't I done enough for one day?" Greg laughed.
"We have a lead," Sara proclaimed as she walked into the DNA lab, "I found a partial serial number on the broken taillight."
"I saw it. It's missing six digits. It's useless," Grissom said.
"Maybe on its own. Bit the tire tread database kicked out a match. The tire belongs to a Ford Explorer. A p235-75, manufactured specifically for their SUVs. Only one with the same partial serial number is registered in Vegas," Sara told them.
"What do you call a guy with blue-dotted blood, lice and keys to a Ford Explorer?" Grissom asked.
"A suspect?" Warrick guessed.
"A killer," Grissom corrected.
"You found the car that ran over Brian?" Dr Gilbert guessed as Grissom helped her out of the car.
"Yes," Grissom nodded as they headed towards the building, "The SUV's registered to Adam Walkey. He's 18 years old; no prior complaints. We're processing it now. I promised to keep you informed."
"You kept your world," Dr Gilbert beamed.
Warrick and Sara were investigating the car they had impounded. If they wanted to get a slam dunk on this case, they needed strong evidence. Warrick hummed as he held the scope over the headrest of the driver's seat. Lice were crawling around all over the place.
"Lice?" Sara asked as she shone her flashlight at him.
"Creepy critters in the driver's seat," Warrick answered.
"So…that's why Grissom's late," Sara remarked as she saw Grissom walk in with Dr Gilbert.
"You just don't like other women in his life," Warrick scoffed.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Sara decided.
"Affirmative on the head lice," Warrick told Grissom and Dr Gilbert.
"Taillights match," Sara piped in.
"We have a suspect," Grissom proclaimed.
"I'm advising Adam to invoke his fifth amendment rights," Randy Painter told Grissom and O'Riley.
"No charges have been filed and I haven't asked a question," O'Riley defended.
"Go ahead and ask. He won't answer," Rand smirked.
"Well, that's why I suggested we meet here. I don't need him to talk. I just want his blood," Grissom said.
"Well, for that, you're going to need a warrant," Randy stated…only to have O'Riley hand him one, "This warrant is for blood…and a scalp search?"
Grissom held up a lice comb and smirked as he said, "It's a licemeister. We're going to comb your hair."
"Talk to me," Catherine requested as she walked into the ballistics lab, smiling at the sight of Nick leaning against the desk with Kady snuggled into his chest as she slept.
"Good news, bad news. Same calibre, different gun," Nick announced.
"Bobby?" Catherine turned to the ballistics expert, hoping for a different answer.
"Striations don't match," Bobby agreed with Nick as he pointed to the monitor, "The gun that killed those five people at the coffee house isn't your store manager's. The good news is – all the nine millimetre bullets fired at the scene…from the same gun. You're looking for only one guy."
"Well, what about the breach-face marks on the casings?" Catherine asked.
"Indeterminate," Bobby shook his head, earning a hum from Catherine.
"Well, well, looks like you got zip," Catherine remarked as Brass walked into the lab.
"I got a ton of peole out interviewing every two-bit stiff that ever had a beef against Flynn. They're all doing the smart thing – keeping their mouth shut," Brass said.
"So we have no statements or physical evidence indicating it was a hit on Flynn," Catherine sighed.
"What we have is five dead bodies," Nick stated.
"Yeah…why?" Catherine asked.
"You know something I don't know?" Brass wanted to know as he and Catherine looked at Nick.
"Not yet," Catherine shook her head, "Nick?"
"Smoke and mirrors," Nick shrugged, holding Kady tighter as she began to stir, "We'll go in a minute. I just need to see if Greg can babysit Kady."
"I can babysit her!" Brass protested, "She's my goddaughter too, you know."
"What if you get called up to a dangerous crime scene and you can't take her?" Nick retorted.
"I'd pass it on," Brass answered as he settled Kady onto his hip.
Nick and Catherine found themselves back at the coffee shop. They had the evidence. Now…they just had to piece it all together in a series of unfortunate events.
"If it was a hit, the guy came to the front door, took out Al and Frankie and got the witnesses. Bullets will confirm it. Shooter was standing here when he shot Al," Nick began as he activated the laser and pointed it on the X plastered on the cardboard and continued to do so to correspond with everything he said, "Bam! Once in the chest. This is Flynn. One miss. One hit. One through and through."
"Headphones," Catherine said as she walked over to the cardboard cutout and activated the beams, "Ricochet. Through and through."
They all observed the lasers and where they were pointed on the cardboards representing the victims. Something seemed off about it. They didn't know what. But something was not right. Nick and Catherine hadn't realized it yet when they were programming their laser directionalities onto the computer.
"Each victim gets a different colour. Blue beams are isolated. The kid with the CD player was alone," Nick stated.
"Flynn was closest to the door," Catherine piped in.
"Shooter was positioned between Flynn and the front door. Flynn eats it…? Nah," Nick shook his head, "I would have taken out big Al. Bodyguard first."
"Me too," Catherine agreed.
Nick walked up to the counter and told Catherine about something he found as he placed his hands flat on the counter, "Ident found both of the bodyguards' paws on the counter."
"What if the shooter was here when he shot big Al?" Catherine pondered as she stood in front of Nick from the other side of the counter.
"Big Al would already be dead," Nick answered, "It doesn't make any sense."
"If the shooter walked through the front door," Catherine added.
"What if he came through the back?" Nick suddenly asked.
An idea suddenly sparked in Catherine's head. But she didn't dare to voice it aloud. Not until they had the evidence to prove it. If a person makes a claim, the best thing to have to back up their claims or disprove them is evidence, after all. Nick and Catherine walked through the door towards the back of the coffee shop. Catherine immediately approached the cardboard that was supposed to represent Erin.
"Erin McCarty – the employee who was supposed to close up," Catherine said.
"Yeah. Yeah. Shot twice in the back while headed for the rear exit," Nick recalled the autopsy findings.
Catherine and Nick began searching the area. The feeling that something was off still loomed in the atmosphere around them. The feelings slowly began to disappear when Catherine walked towards the shelves and noticed something behind the keys that were hanging on the hooks. She moved the keys aside and noticed the dent on the metallic shelf. She instantly knew what it was.
"If she was headed towards the parking lot, how do you explain this ricochet?" Catherine asked.
"What?" Nick demanded as he walked over and noticed the small dent before an idea hit him, "Like this."
Nick turned off the lights in the back room and headed for the light on the tripod. When Nick turned it on, Catherine grabbed the small mirror and placed it on the shelf over the ricochet. The mirror reflected the light once Nick had positioned the light on the mirror. The light was shining on a bag of 100% Columbian coffee beans.
There was a bamboo bowl nearby with a paper towel spread out on the bottom of it. Perfect for Nick to examine the contents. He grabbed the bag and poured out some of the contents. As if he was spreading sand in a sandbox, he spread the beans apart looking for the hidden treasure. And he found it.
The missing bullet.
"I love this job," Nick proclaimed.
"The ricochet went out into the store. There's no hole in the door," Catherine recalled as the realization hit her, "There's no hole in the door 'cause the door had to have been open."
"Assuming Erin was running for her life, the shooter follows her in the back room, shoots her twice. He would have been shooting towards the parking lot," Nick pointed out.
"He shot towards the parking lot first and then toward the front of the store," Catherine observed.
"He'd only shoot toward the front if there's somebody there," Nick stated.
"So who was in the line of fire? What if we have it backwards? What if…the shooting began back here…with Erin?" Catherine asked as the full realization began to hit the both of them.
"Yeah and somebody else saw. Frankie Flynn was an innocent bystander. Wrong place, wrong time," Nick remarked.
"The target was Erin…the pregnant girl. And the rest was damage control," Catherine realized.
"Adam Walkey doesn't have lice?" Warrick said in disbelief.
"Not even lice eggs," Grissom shook his head.
"Maybe he got rid of them since the other night," Sara shrugged.
"Delousing agents take time to kick in. There would have been evidence of the infestation," Grissom retorted as they walked into the DNA lab.
"Hey. Got good news. Walkey's blood sample," Greg trailed off.
"Pseudomonas aeruginosa?" Grissom guessed.
"Fluorescent blue," Greg nodded his head as Grissom looked through the scope to see the comparisons.
"Same as the blood we found on Brian's knuckle," Warrick recalled.
"Greg, start a DNA comparison. This gives us enough to hold Walkey," Grissom stated as he, Sara and Warrick walked out of the DNA lab.
"It's just like Dr Gilbert said. The killer came from out here," Warrick remarked.
"Dr Gilbert can afford her personal bias. We can't. And we need a lot more than day-glo bacteria to get a conviction," Grissom pointed out.
"You really thing Erin knew she was pregnant? I mean, six weeks?" Nick asked as he and Catherine headed towards the forensic pathology lab, "Abby didn't find out she was pregnant with Kadelin until she was eight weeks. You didn't found out about your pregnancy with Lindsey until you were ten weeks."
"Twenty-year-old girl living a home? She would have taken a test if she was five seconds late – panic city," Catherine remarked, "Besides, it's different for every woman."
"Brass talked to her parents. There was no guy in her life," Nick stated.
"Well, it's not immaculate conception. If the guy was Mr Right, she would have told her folks. Which means he was Mr Wrong. Maybe Mr Married," Catherine smirked as they walked into the forensic pathology lab to talk to Doc Robbins.
"Back for more?" Doc Robbins asked.
"You still have the pregnant girl?" Catherine wanted to know.
"Mortuary is going to pick her up later this afternoon," Doc Robbins answered.
"Stall them. We want a paternity test," Nick requested.
"At six weeks?" Doc Robbins began to protest.
"Six weeks with half of someone else's DNA in her body," Catherine retorted.
Sara and Warrick were still checking Adam Walkey's SUV. Only this time, they were looking under it. They needed to be thorough in order to make a strong case against Adam. And…Sara just found a way to do just that. She noticed that there was a tear in the muffler. And there was a piece of cloth caught in the tear.
"Check this out. This fabric matches the victim's sweater," Sara observed as she took the sample.
"That's the muffler. And this is the back of the car," Warrick said.
"And the taillight was smashed," Sara added.
"There's no way this car was moving forward when it ran over Brain Clemonds' body," Warrick remarked.
"Who drives backwards on a downtown street?" Sara asked.
"First degree murder. That's how we see it," O'Riley said to Adam and his attorney.
"It's OK," Randy reassured Adam before turning to O'Riley, "In that case, my client is now prepared to make a statement. Tell him, Adam."
"I may have hit the guy," Adam confessed.
"That's some statement," O'Riley remarked.
"OK. I remember hitting something. It was dark. I-I just kept driving. Didn't look back," Adam lied.
"Adam…we found lice in the driver's seat of your vehicle. But your scalp was clean. Was there anyone else there? A witness who might support your account?" Grissom asked.
Adam sighed before answering, "Yeah. Someone was with me. Mark. Mark Rucker. He can confirm everything I told you."
That was when Dr Gilbert stormed angrily into the interrogation room and glared at Adam, causing Grissom to look up. Immediately, he knew that this wouldn't be good.
"I want to see him. Is that the coward who killed Brian?" Dr Gilbert asked angrily as she approached him and spoke and signed in his face, her voice displaying emotional distress, "What happened? He scare you? Talk a little funny? Make a lot of noises? Screamed? Or maybe he just looked at you the wrong way?"
"Get away from me!" Adam yelled at her.
"You make me sick!" Dr Gilbert spat at Adam as Grissom pulled her out of the room and into the hallway, "You said you'd include me!"
"You offered to help with my investigation and now you're compromising it!" Grissom retorted.
"You found the killer!" Dr Gilbert shot back.
Grissom also signed as he spoke, "Who says it was a hit-and-run. Not murder. He has a witness."
"Who will lie for him!" Dr Gilbert screamed.
"The witness can say whatever he wants. The important thing is that Adam Walkey was not alone when he killed Brian," Grissom told her, causing realization to replace Dr Gilbert's anger, "Until now, I did not know who was with him."
"And now you do," Dr Gilbert said.
"His witness is our other suspect," Grissom proclaimed.
"911 page. What's up?" Nick asked as he walked into the ballistics lab, causing Bobby to look up from his current work.
"Right gun. Wrong barrel," Bobby announced.
"Son of a bitch swapped the gun barrel out!" Nick exclaimed in disbelief.
"Check this out," Bobby said as he showed Nick the dent on the barrel.
"Could be an incomplete tool mark. Maybe the guy dropped his gun. Either way, we still don't have the barrel," Nick pointed out.
"This is true," Bobby agreed.
"But we've got Kendall's ammo. What about bullet batching?" Nick suggested.
"Match the bunter marks?" Bobby offered.
"Every casing's got two pieces of information on it. Manufacturer and calibre," Nick pointed out.
"Etched in by an electrodischarge machine," Bobby added, "Every casing from a given batch of ammo has the same markings."
"So if you compared the casings we collected at the crime scene with the casings from Brad Kendall's gun…," Nick began.
"On a microscopic level, we should find similar characteristics…," Bobby went on.
"Which would link Brad's ammo to the crime even though we can't link his gun," Nick finished.
"Not as airtight as matching the barrel," Bobby warned.
"But still enough to build a case," Nick retorted.
"What about motive?" Bobby asked.
"Well, Catherine's working on a hunch," Nick shrugged.
"Me? The father? No way. I'm married. I don't fool around," Brad protested.
"Cover your ears, Sharpie," Brass warned Kady, only continuing until the four-year-old girl in his lap had said so, "Would you like us to explain the mechanics of sex in the workplace?"
"You're the manager. Erin was the employee," Catherine said.
"You had the power. Happens all the time," Brass remarked.
"You got it all wrong," Brad shook his head.
"Maybe we do – we all make mistakes – but just to be sure, why don't you give us a sample of your DAN and you'll be on your way," Catherine suggested.
"I don't believe this. Talk to anyone. I'm not like that!" Brad continued to protest.
"I've got a court order," Brass announced as he slid the piece of paper across the desk.
"It was a one-time thing. I didn't even know she was pregnant," Brad finally confessed.
"I read him his rights. Last chance for a lawyer," O'Riley warned Mark.
"I didn't do anything. Why would I need a lawyer?" Mark wanted to know.
"Fire away," O'Riley invited Grissom.
"I just have one question. Does your head itch?" Grissom asked.
"Do I have to answer that?" Mark laughed as Grissom walked over with a piece of paper and a lice comb and began combing his hair.
"I'm going to just, uh…rearrange your part a little," Grissom said as he noticed the lice on the paper, "According to Adam Walkey, you were with him in his SUV the other night and your head lice…confirmed his statement. They also tell me that you were driving."
"Yeah, yeah, I was with him. And like he told you, we didn't know he hit the guy," Mark owned up.
"How do you know what Adam told us?" O'Riley demanded, causing Mark to go quiet.
"Now, why don't you tell us what really happened?" Grissom suggested.
"Well, it was around midnight. And we were listening to the radio. I changed the station. Adam got pissed," Mark began revealing what happened.
Begin flashback
"Dude, what are you doing? That song is a classic!" Adam protested.
"It's not a classic! It's crap! It's always been crap! Now this…this is tight!" Mark retorted…before they heard the thud as they ran over something, "Wh-what was that?"
"Probably a dog," Adam shrugged, "Let's get out of here."
End flashback
"We just kept driving," Mark finished his story, "It's the truth."
"The evidence says otherwise," Grissom retorted.
"What are you talking about?" Mark asked.
"Well, there weren't just lice in the SUV. There were lice on the victim's sweater," Grissom revealed.
"So who cares about lice?" Mark scoffed.
"Do you know what lice eat?" Grissom retorted, causing Mark to go quiet, "Blood. I'm pretty sure I can prove that the lice on Brian Clemonds came from your head."
"We got out of the car," Mark recalled.
Begin flashback
"We've got to call the ambulance!" Mark proclaimed.
"We tell anybody, we are in trouble. We could go to jail!" Adam retorted.
End flashback
"But I didn't want to leave him like that. Adam talked me into it. He had a scholarship to Duke next year, you know. He couldn't risk it," Mark said.
"Let me tell you what I think happened," Grissom sighed, "You and Adam saw Brian walking out of a liquor store carrying a six-pack. You're underage. Maybe you wanted him to front you some beer. Brian doesn't respond. Then you got out of the car. You started taunting him. And then everything escalated. The blood on the victim's knuckles led us to Adam. The average male loses 80 hairs a day. A stray hair left behind lice, which brings us to you. It would have ended there. But as you were about to drive away, something caught your attention. Something in your rearview mirror. And you took off."
"I want a lawyer," Mark requested.
"Let me tell you something, son," Grissom said.
"Gil, the interrogation is over. He's requested counsel," O'Riley began to stop him.
"Fine. No more questions," Grissom sighed as he rose to his feet, noticing Mark's smug expression, "Just this. You want to know why Brian Clemonds ran away from you? It was dark, you were shoting at him and he didn't understand what you were saying. Brian Clemonds was deaf. He was afraid of you. But you were more afraid of him…weren't you?"
"What am I looking at?" Brad asked as Nick and Catherine showed him something on the monitor with Brass walking in behind them.
"Microscopic surface analysis. This ought to make things more clear," Nick remarked.
"A bunter tool makes a unique mark," Catherine pointed out.
"Casings from your gun are on the right. Casings collected from the crime scene are on the left," Nick indicated to the casings to prove his point.
"They're identical. You came here that night…to kill Erin," Catherine proclaimed, "You came in through the back. Erin was in the office. Alice saw so you shot her. You thought that Erin had locked up. But there was a kid drinking coffee. And then things got out of hand."
Begin flashback
"We've gotta talk," Brad said to Erin.
"I'm tired of talking to you," Erin sighed.
"Listen to me!" Brad pleaded.
"I'm tired of listening to you!" Erin exclaimed.
"I will take care of this," Brad promised.
"All you take care of is yourself!" Erin scoffed.
"Erin, think! Use your head for once! I'm not going to let you ruin my life!" Brad screamed at her, neither of them noticing that Alice was overhearing their argument.
"I already have thought about it! I'm going to have this baby and you are going to support it," Erin proclaimed before walking away, "I'll let you know if it's a boy or girl."
That was the last straw for Brad. He wasn't going to let her ruin his life – his marriage – with a mistake. He grabbed his gun and shot her twice in the back. Erin fell to the ground dead. Alice's gasp of shock gave away her observation. Brad turned around and saw Alice standing there. Everything went into overdrive then. He shot at Alice but he missed. The bullet ricocheted off of the shelf and into the bag of coffee beans.
Alice had ran out of the back room, shutting the door behind her, hoping to buy some time. However, that didn't stop Brad. He was determined to leave no witness alive to tell the tale. Brad followed Alice out and shot her, killing her instantly. Then he noticed the customer at the table. He got shot too. Then…
Frankie and Al walked in.
They met the same fate.
End flashback
"Brad Kendall, you're under arrest for the murder of Frankie Flynn, Al Robson, Roy Hinton, Alice Neely and Erin McCarty," Brass proclaimed.
"Six weeks pregnant with your child," Nick sighed, looking at him in disbelief as Brad looked down.
"I didn't mean for it to happen like that. I just wanted to talk," Brad defended himself.
"Is that why you brought your gun?" Catherine retorted.
"Some people are just afraid," Grissom finished explaining how Brian died to Dr Gilbert, bouncing Kady in his lap a little (he stole her from Brass).
"And that's why they killed Brian. Because he was different. You and your goddaughter don't see us a different," Dr Gilbert stated.
"You're not," Grissom and Kady said.
"Who taught you to sign?" Dr Gilbert asked, signing as she did.
"My mother," Grissom revealed, signing as well.
"What about you, Kadelin?" Dr Gilbert asked.
"Uncle Gil," Kady answered, signing as well…well trying to.
"You are doing well, Kadelin. It takes practice," Dr Gilbert reassured her before saying to Grissom, "Tell me about your mother. And use your hands. You're a little rusty."
Grissom smiled sheepishly at her before beginning to sign his background story on sign language (AN: Very loose translation from someone I know who knew sign language. It's not perfect.),
"She lost her hearing when she was eight. She loved to swim. I asked her what it was like to be deaf. She told me to sick my head under the water."
"True," Dr Gilbert laughed.
"She taught me not to make fun of…"
MAN! THAT WAS HARD TO WRITE! Next episode better be an easy one to write! *after watching the next episode* I've got my work cut out for me. Man! It seems the further we get into the show, the harder the episodes become to rewrite! You're lucky I love you guys.
BYE!