COLD OPEN.
[EXT. LAS VEGAS CITY (STOCK) -- NIGHT]
[EXT. LAS VEGAS STRIP - NIGHT]
(Police cars and a helicopter chase after a speeding vehicle. Sirens wail.)
[EXT. INTERSTATE 15 -- LVPD SQUAD CAR (MOVING) - NIGHT]
(OFFICER METCALF is in one of the cars chasing the speeding vehicle and he's on
the radio.)
OFFICER METCALF: Unit 584-Adam. Please be advised we're in pursuit of a BMW
going southbound on Interstate 15 at a high rate of speed.
DISPATCH: (over radio) Roger, 158. You are cleared for maneuver.
(He swings out and tips the speeding vehicle in the rear bumper. The speeding
vehicle continues on. He swings out again and tips the speeding vehicle in the
rear bumper. This time, the speeding vehicle runs off of the road.)
(It comes to a stop on the side of the road. The Police Officer stops a safe
distance behind it.)
(OFFICER METCALF jumps out of the police car with his gun drawn.)
OFFICER METCALF: Driver roll down your window. Let me see your hands.
(He slowly makes his way toward the car.)
(He reaches out a hand to open the car door.)
(Suddenly, the car door opens. He jerks back as two women dressed only in their
underwear exit the car with their arms raised.)
ANNA LEAH (BLONDE): Don't shoot. Don't shoot!
LORI (BRUNETTE): Don't shoot. Don't shoot.
(OFFICER METCALF raises his hand to stop the other officers from moving in. He
reaches for his radio.)
OFFICER METCALF: (to radio) Dispatch, unit 584 is a code four. We got a couple
of girls joyriding. (to the other officer) Rookie, clear the vehicle!
(The two women stand their with their arms raised.)
(Cut to: The ROOKIE checks the front seat of the car and finds nothing. She
backs out and closes the door.)
(She walks around to the back of the car where she starts looking around. She
finds some blood on the rear bumper.)
(Camera zooms in for an extreme close up of the blood.)
CUT TO:
[EXT. INTERSTATE 15 - SHOULDER (SOUTHBOUND) - NIGHT]
(GRISSOM slams the car door shut. Carrying his kit, he makes his way toward
BRASS. They both walk toward the back of the car.)
BRASS: {unintelligible}
GRISSOM: 4-19?
BRASS: More like a four.
(Puzzled, GRISSOM turns to look at the car. BRASS lifts up the trunk hood.)
[INSIDE TRUNK POV]
(The trunk hood is raised and GRISSOM'S eyebrows rise in surprise. He looks at
BRASS, then bends to put his kit down. He straightens and glances down at the
trunk's contents.)
GRISSOM: (quoting) Ichabod was horror-struck on perceiving that he was
headless."
(BRASS glances at GRISSOM.)
BRASS: ...Sleepy hollow.
(GRISSOM glances back at BRASS.)
[RESUME REGULAR CAMERA ANGLE INTO THE TRUNK]
(Inside the trunk is a head severed at the neck. GRISSOM reaches in and lifts
the eye lid to look at the pupil.)
GRISSOM: Vitreous humor is glazed over.
[INSIDE TRUNK POV]
BRASS: What does that mean?
GRISSOM: That means that, six to eight hours ago somebody lost their head.
Then ... somebody lost their head.
(Both turn glance at each other, then glance back at the head.)
HARD CUT TO
END OF TEASER
ROLL TITLE CREDITS
(COMMERCIAL SET)
FADE IN.
[INT. CSI - HALLWAY/RECEPTION AREA- NIGHT]
(CATHERINE walks into the hallway and tosses an envelope into the outgoing mail
basket on the reception desk.)
CATHERINE: Sayonara.
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - BREAK ROOM - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS]
(CATHERINE walks into the break room, followed closely by SARA and NICK.
They're extremely surprised to find GRISSOM already in the room and sitting
behind the table.)
CATHERINE: Well, well, what a switch. You actually beat us here.
GRISSOM: It's Evaluation Day.
CATHERINE: Hmm.
GRISSOM: Where's Warrick?
(SARA turns around to look. She glances at NICK, who raises his eyebrows at
her.)
CATHERINE: He's working spillover -- personal thing -- kid he knows who's in
trouble.
GRISSOM: Oh, that's right. (shakes his head as he remembers) He told me. I
forgot.
CATHERINE: Well, maybe we should be evaluating you.
GRISSOM: You're a riot, Alice. You and I are going to work the head case.
(He hands the assignment slip to CATHERINE.)
CATHERINE: Goody.
GRISSOM: Nick, another homicide. 4-19, 40 miles outside of Baker.
(He hands the assignment slip to NICK. NICK takes it and pulls back to leave,
thinking it’s a solo.)
NICK: Okay. Good. I'm on it.
GRISSOM: Sara, you go with him.
SARA: (thrilled) Yes! Road trip.
(She turns around and taps NICK on the shoulders.)
SARA: I'm gonna go switch boots.
(SARA leaves the break room. NICK appears less than thrilled. He turns around
and looks at GRISSOM. GRISSOM sees the look. So does CATHERINE.)
GRISSOM: Cath, I'll catch up with you.
(She nods and leaves.)
CATHERINE: I'll meet you at the autopsy. (glances back at GRISSOM) "Head"-
topsy.
(She walks out of the room. NICK looks at GRISSOM.)
GRISSOM: Sit down.
(NICK sighs and sits down.)
NICK: Look. Grissom I know this is a bad time to bitch to the boss but, uh,
I've been a CSI Level 3 for nine months now. I was a CSI before Warrick.
Warrick works D.B.'S solo. Why can't I?
GRISSOM: Repeat after me. Silk, silk, silk.
NICK: "Silk, silk, silk"?
GRISSOM: At do cows drink?
NICK: Milk.
GRISSOM: (he shakes his head) Cows drink water. They give milk. A simple
riddle. Common sense disguised in a puzzle of words, but an excellent barometer
for evaluating someone's readiness.
NICK: (frustrated) Look, I'm not one of your suspects you can trick, okay? If
I'm not ready, be a man -- tell me I'm not ready.
GRISSOM: You're not ready.
NICK: You know why I took this job? Honestly? I wanted to pack heat, walk
under the yellow tape, be the man ... but mostly, because I want you to think
I'm a good CSI.
GRISSOM: And that's the reason I have to hold you back.
(NICK shakes his head and looks away.)
GRISSOM: Anybody who's great at anything, Nick, does it for their own approval
not someone else's.
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - FORENSIC AUTOPSY - NIGHT]
(Alone in his autopsy room, DR. ROBBINS has the tape player blaring while
playing his crutch like a guitar. He sings along to the music, his back to the
door. He doesn't see GRISSOM and CATHERINE walk into the room.)
(He glances behind him and sees them standing there. He quickly reaches over to
turn the volume down.)
DR. ALBERT ROBBINS: uh, voice sound familiar?
CATHERINE: Kind of sounds like the daytime coroner.
GRISSOM: Gary Telgenhoff?
DR. ALBERT ROBBINS: Yep. A songwriter in his off-time. What do you think?
CATHERINE: (considers) It sucks.
DR. ALBERT ROBBINS: Hmm.
CATHERINE: Hey, I just filed for divorce. I'm feeling a little confident.
GRISSOM: (to CATHERINE) I guess. (to ROBBINS) I like it.
CATHERINE: So, where's the head?
(DR. ROBBINS reaches over and turns the music off. He turns toward the head.)
DR. ALBERT ROBBINS: Well, police I.D.'d him at the scene when they ran his
plates compared the DMV head shot to the head. Grissom, Catherine, meet Victor
Dasilva.
(DR. ROBBINS pulls the sheet aside to show them the head. GRISSOM walks around
to the front of the head.)
(He looks at the top of the head and sighs.)
GRISSOM: What did this?
(Camera zooms in for an extreme close up of the top of the head with a three-
pronged indentation on the scalp.)
DR. ALBERT ROBBINS: Hard to tell without making a mold.
GRISSOM: Fatal blow?
DR. ALBERT ROBBINS: (nods) Looks like it.
(CATHERINE leans in close to look at the markings on the jaw.)
CATHERINE: Man, look at those chopping wounds on the jawbone.
(Camera moves in for an extreme close up of the wound markings.)
CATHERINE: They almost look like practice swings.
GRISSOM: It could've been dark. Bad aim, maybe?
CATHERINE: Definitely a crime of passion.
GRISSOM: You think a female could do this?
CATHERINE: I could have.
(beat)
GRISSOM: (sing-song-ish) Scared of you.
(CATHERINE stands up.)
DR. ALBERT ROBBINS: If you want to know what exact tools were used we're going
to need to boil the head.
(Suddenly, GRISSOM is interested in this part of the investigation. He
straightens and looks at DR. ROBBINS.)
GRISSOM: Really? You want me to prepare it?
DR. ALBERT ROBBINS: Sure. What, uh, additive do you put in your boil?
(CATHERINE stiffens and listens to the conversation.)
GRISSOM: Laundry detergent. Works great. It's like peeling off a rubber
halloween mask.
(GRISSOM makes a motion down the front of the head as if he were peeling off the
skin. CATHERINE nods her head, barely containing her excitement.)
DR. ALBERT ROBBINS: Excellent.
(She can't take it anymore.)
CATHERINE: Well, I'm out of here. I'm going to be with Brass ... see if I can
get anything on those Victoria's Secret girls.
(CATHERINE turns and leaves the room. GRISSOM and DR. ROBBINS immediately
resume their conversation about the head.)
GRISSOM: Where's your crock-pot, Doc?
CUT TO:
[EXT. GUARD GATE HUT - INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX - NIGHT]
(WARRICK walks up to the parking lot. CHARLES MOORE stands there in his uniform
with a clipboard in his hand. He turns when WARRICK calls out to him.)
WARRICK: Mr. Moore.
(They both walk back to the guard gate.)
CHARLES MOORE: My grandson won't take my calls. He'll only talk to you.
WARRICK: I think James called me tonight because he thought I could help him.
CHARLES MOORE: That was a nice thing you did giving him your pager number when
he went away but he should be calling me. I'm his grandfather. I deserve to
know what happened.
WARRICK: James is all right but, uh, there was a big brawl at the detention
center. James was at the wrong place at the wrong time.
CHARLES MOORE: (fearing the worst) What's my grandson looking at?
WARRICK: If he talks, he'll be dead inside a month. Now, if he keeps quiet,
the D.A. will put the squeeze on him. He'll probably end up in the big house
you could lose your boy forever then.
CHARLES MOORE: Why didn't James call me ... tell me?
WARRICK: He probably knew what your advice would be. To do the honorable
thing.
CHARLES MOORE: There's no honor in jail.
WARRICK: Not without a price. Look, a crime occurred. CSI's got full
jurisdiction. I got myself assigned to the case. I'll see if I can take James
out of the middle.
(MR. MOORE nods his head in appreciation, knowing that he can't do anything to
help. WARRICK puts a supportive hand on his shoulder, then turns and walks
away.)
CUT TO:
[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT - INTERVIEW ROOM - NIGHT]
(BRASS and CATHERINE interview the two girls who are now barefoot and wrapped in
blankets.)
BRASS: Can we offer you girls something to drink?
LORI: Please don't say that word.
BRASS: You want to tell us why two college freshmen were driving a stolen BMW
with a head in the trunk?
ANNA LEAH: We already told you. We had no idea that was in the trunk.
(She glances at her friend, LORI, who is looking away.)
LORI: (mutters) Gross.
CATHERINE: Now there's a start-- "gross." Gross negligence-- flying down I-15
in a stolen car. Gross anatomy-- a human bowling ball in the trunk. Gross
details-- let's hear it.
(The two girls look at each other.)
ANNA LEAH: We lost our friends at bar 911.
(Quick flashback to: [BAR 911] Inside the crowded bar, the girls are sitting
at the counter having drinks.)
ANNA LEAH: (v.o.) We had no ride home. We were bored. So, we started shots
of tequila ...
(The two girls throw back their heads to drink the shots with a couple of guys
at the bar.)
(End of flashback. Resume to present.)
ANNA LEAH: ... with some guy who looked like ... like Cat Stevens.
(The two girls glance at each other and chuckle at the memory.)
(Quick flashback to: [BAR 911] One of the guys standing between the two girls
has his arm around both of them.)
(ANNA LEAH raises her arm up in the air and screams with excitement.)
ANNA LEAH: Whoo!
(Cut to: [PARKING LOT OF BAR 911] Inside the van in the parking lot, they're
with the stranger who looks like Cat Stevens.)
ANNA LEAH: (v.o.) Next thing we know, we're in his van playing strip poker.
(LORI laughs and takes her tank top off and throws it at ANNA LEAH.)
LORI: I can't believe we're doing this.
(End of flashback. Resume to present.)
(ANNA LEAH laughs at the memory.)
ANNA LEAH: It was a blast at first. Then, um ...
(She turns and looks over at CATHERINE and BRASS and she sobers up immediately.)
ANNA LEAH: Then he said the creepiest thing.
(Quick flashback to: [PARKING LOT OF BAR 911] Inside the van, as they're
playing poker, they continue to play strip poker.)
STRANGER: So, I met this girl on the internet who offered me a round-trip
ticket to fly out and help her end her life. She wanted me to shove a tennis
ball down her throat.
(Cut to: [PARKING LOT] The van doors burst open and the two women in their
underwear stumble out of the van. They search frantically for a way to get away
from the Stranger.)
(ANNA LEAH sees the red car parked in the parking lot just outside the COLLINS
U-STORE-IT sign and heads for it. She opens the door and finds that it's
unlocked.)
ANNA LEAH: Lori! Lori, over here! Lori!
(They both get inside the car. They take off.)
(End of flashback. Resume to present.)
CATHERINE: Let me guess. You left your clothes in the van.
LORI: We were so out of there.
ANNA LEAH: This guy was weird. Like, way weird. I was thinking that he was
going to pull a Silence of the Lambs on me and tell me to "put lotion in the
basket."
(LORI nudges ANNA with her elbow. The two girls fall silent. Then ANNA
chuckles at the memory. She tries to stop herself, but can't. Soon, they're
both chuckling.)
(BRASS and CATHERINE aren't impressed. They glance slowly at each other.)
BRASS: You know what I think? I don't think you two are murderers. I think
you're just felony stupid. But, for now, you're being booked on evading arrest,
grand theft auto, DWI. You go with this officer here.
(They both stand up to do as they're told.)
CUT TO:
[EXT. -- NIGHT]
(JAMES MOORE and WARRICK walk outside as they talk.)
MAN (over P.A.): Lockdown is in effect. All guards remain at your posts.
JAMES MOORE: I love my grandpa -- don't get me wrong -- but he's got no idea
how it works in here. I'm not sure you do, either.
WARRICK: Why don't you tell me?
JAMES MOORE: First off, this place only sees two colors: Black and white. You
stay with your own. Despite what those chucks think upstairs this entire place
is infiltrated with rolling 60s. Overflow from L.A.
WARRICK: That's a lot of education in a short time, huh?
JAMES MOORE: Yeah. I mean, I'm just trying to survive, man. I'm 60 days and a
wake-up unless I get got.
WARRICK: James, why don't you take a deep breath and tell me what happened
here.
JAMES MOORE: First, you got to tell me something. You got to tell me what side
you're on.
WARRICK: Whose "side" I'm on? Who reached out to you, man?
JAMES MOORE: Who put me in here?
WARRICK: James, I'm trying to help you.
(JAMES glances at WARRICK and then makes a decision.)
JAMES MOORE: All right. It breaks down like this --
(Quick flashback to: The two inmates walk up to each other. One of them is
holding a shank in the palm of his hand.)
JAMES MOORE: (v.o.) Kingpin from Gerson Park and Kingpin from L.A.
County/Slauson both under one roof. It was time for one of them to stake their
claim.
(The two men fight.)
JAMES MOORE: (v.o.) Vegas fool got shanked.
(The fight ends and the Vegas Kingpin is dead on the floor. Suddenly, they
realize that JAMES is sitting on the bed. The remaining kingpin and two of his
gang sit on the bed to talk with JAMES.)
JAMES MOORE: (v.o.) I was sitting right there. I had two things going against
me: I'm the newest face and the only witness.
(End of flashback. Resume to present.)
WARRICK: So it's your life versus time.
JAMES MOORE: Basically, yeah and everybody knows about it. They're just
waiting to see what I'm going to do. I sing ... they send me a song back. I
shut up ... I'm your age when I get out.
(Camera holds on WARRICK.)
CUT TO:
[EXT. 40 MILES OUTSIDE BAKER -- NIGHT]
(SARA and NICK approach SGT. O'RILEY who is standing outside next to his car
waiting for them.)
SARA: Who found the body?
SGT. O'RILEY: Department of Agriculture. They were searching for wild horses
in their chopper when they found it. None of the boys would even go near it. I
had to tape the perimeter myself.
SARA: Where is it?
(He shines the light along the ground.)
SGT. O'RILEY: Just follow my prints.
(Cut to: SARA and NICK follow the footprints and approach what's left of the
body. They see a clump of flesh and bones.)
NICK: Oh, man.
SARA: There's no head. Think it's DaSilva?
(NICK puts a hand up to cover his nose.)
NICK: If it's the rest of him he's been skinned.
SARA: Uh... hands and feet have been amputated.
NICK: Yeah. Most likely to avoid I.D. Hey, Sara.
SARA: Yeah?
(NICK shines the light on the ground around the corpse.)
NICK: No approaching surface prints. No tire tracks. Only O'Riley's boot
prints. These are ours. Look at the area around the corpse. Look at the big
dent in the ground, like a meteor hit.
(Considering his implication, SARA ponders where the body could have come from,
then looks up at the sky above.)
FADE OUT.
(COMMERCIAL SET)
FADE IN.
[EXT. JUVENILLE DETENTION CENTER -- NIGHT]
(WARRICK walks through the courtyard where the detainees are milling outside.
They watch as he approaches and walks through them to get inside.)
CAUCASIAN DETAINEE: (v.o.) That guy's from the crime lab. You gonna spray
some chemical stuff over the dorm, man?
BLACK DETAINEE: Hey, what you got in the tackle box, babe? You going fishing?
BLACK DETAINEE: Hey, brother, what's up? Let me talk to you real quick.
DEPUTY: Welcome to juvie. It's all yours.
(She nods her head toward the rooms inside.)
(She steps aside. WARRICK opens the door and walks in. He puts his kit down on
the ground and starts looking around the room for evidence.)
(Cut to: WARRICK walks up to the pool of blood and the bloodied rag used to
soak it up. He finds himself standing in front of bed 52.)
(He examines the wall in front of the bed. There are three things on the wall.
A photo of JAMES with this GRANDFATHER; a card with a quote written on it: "A
man's pride will bring him low; but honor shall uphold the humble in spirit."
Proverbs 29:23; and "WARRICK" 555-0127.)
(Cut to: WARRICK lifts up the top bunk's mattress.)
(Cut to: WARRICK checks another bunk. As he checks the bunk out, he sees a
crucifix and two photos taped to the wall-one sepia-colored of a woman and the
other black and white photo of a baby.)
(Cut to: A glimpse of a towel and toothpaste.)
(Cut to: WARRICK lifts up the mattress to look underneath it.)
(Cut to: WARRICK checks out the toilet stalls one by one. In the fourth stall,
he notices that the toilet it backed up, seat dirty, water brown. He puts his
kit down, rolls up his sleeve and sticks his hand inside.)
(He pulls out a blood-stained white shirt.)
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - GARAGE]
(NICK and SARA are back at CSI and just entering the garage. SARA is obviously
hesitant about what they're about to do.)
SARA: I'm not sure you should be doing this.
NICK: What are we doing? Walking through the garage.
(NICK heads for the car.)
SARA: Snooping for trace on Grissom and Catherine's stolen BMW?
(NICK turns around to look at SARA.)
NICK: All right. It's simple. We got the body, they got the head. The BMW's
fair game. Come on, Sara, where's your "Noriega"?
SARA: What has gotten into you?
NICK: Grissom.
(NICK opens the driver's side front door and starts looking around for trace.
He starts checking the seats.)
(SARA takes a swab and takes a sample of the blood on the rear fender.)
(NICK continues to check out the front seat.)
(SARA tests the sample and the swab turns blue.)
(NICK kneels down and starts examining the front seat floor. He finds something
stuck in the grooves of the pedal.)
NICK: Uh ... Sara ... want to take a look at this?
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - FORENSIC AUTOPSY - NIGHT]
(DR. ROBBINS goes over the "body" with GRISSOM.)
DR. ALBERT ROBBINS: It's like nothing I've seen before -- honestly, Gil -- in
all my years.
GRISSOM: The head or the torso?
DR. ALBERT ROBBINS: Torso. Look at the width of the ribcage -- it's enormous -
- and the shoulders are significantly larger in proportion and size compared to
the average endomorph.
GRISSOM: The bone structure is disproportionate.
DR. ALBERT ROBBINS: Correct. I measured the tibia and fibula around the ankle
area then the radius and the ulna at the wrists -- the bones are 10-15% larger
than the standard homo sapiens. Left fracture of the ischial prominence of the
pelvis. Fracture of the pubis synphisus. Fracture of the lumbar spine
vertebrae ...
GRISSOM: Anything not broken?
DR. ALBERT ROBBINS: No, the trauma's similar to some of the leapers I get in
here: Out of state, out of cash and out the window.
GRISSOM: Suicide by hotel.
DR. ALBERT ROBBINS: This was not a hotel. What you see here is the flattening
and expansion of the body that could only be caused by the impact of a very
steep fall. If I know anything, I know two unequivocal truths: Dasilva's head
does not belong to this body. And the reason I know that is because the torso
is not human.
GRISSOM: What is it?
DR. ALBERT ROBBINS: I don't know. You're going to need an anthropologist.
(GRISSOM looks at DR. ROBBINS and considers this.)
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - DNA LAB - NIGHT]
(Cut to: A person puts their eye to the scope. With a focus on the person's
eye, the camera pulls away backward inside the scope. Dissolve to: Change
camera view of the two item pieces under the scope.)
GREG SANDERS: uh-hmm.
(He looks through a second scope.)
GREG SANDERS: uh-hmm.
(He looks to the open reference book, CRIMINALIST BUREAU-REFERENCE DATA, on the
side and flips the page ... Filbert (Hazelnut) ... Brazil Nut ... Almond ... He
keeps flipping the pages while NICK and SARA wait for him.)
(NICK sighs.)
(Finally, GREG straightens and looks at SARA and NICK.)
GREG SANDERS: Squirrels love 'em ... they get tossed at dodger stadium and they
make a hell of a butter.
SARA: You're nuts. You know that.
GREG SANDERS: Exactamundo.
(He turns to the reference book and flips the page: Peanuts! He points to it.)
GREG SANDERS: Peanuts! Right scope's the shell left scope's the skin of the
nut. Think "peanuts español."
NICK: Peanuts on the gas pedal. You're kidding.
GREG SANDERS: Uh-uh.
SARA: That's one of those funny clues. Could mean nothing or could mean
everything.
NICK: Hmm.
CUT TO:
[EXT. LAS VEGAS CITY (STOCK) - NIGHT]
[INT. VICTOR DA SILVA'S RESIDENCE -- NIGHT]
(The front door opens. BRASS pushes aside the plastic sheet to walk into the
residence, but instead comes face to face with a stranger in the house.)
BRASS: Whoa. Who are you, pal?
TRENT CALLOWAY: I'm Trent Calloway. Who are you?
BRASS: I'm Jim Brass. Homicide. This is Gil Grissom. Crime lab. Does a
Victor DaSilva live here?
TRENT CALLOWAY: Yeah, but he's out.
GRISSOM: And you're in.
TRENT CALLOWAY: Yeah. I'm painting the house.
BRASS: In the middle of the night? Back up, Slick. We got some bad news.
(TRENT CALLOWAY backs up. BRASS and GRISSOM walk into the house.)
SHORT TIME CUT TO:
[INT. VICTOR DASILVA'S RESIDENCE -- NIGHT]
(TRENT CALLOWAY wipes his hands with a rag.)
BRASS: So when was the last time you saw Victor DaSilva with his head attached?
TRENT CALLOWAY: A day or two ago.
(GRISSOM looks around and sees a painting resting against the wall under the
plastic sheet.)
TRENT CALLOWAY: This whole painting thing had him stressed out.
(GRISSOM picks up the painting and reads it.)
GRISSOM: "Picking up airheads just got easier."
TRENT CALLOWAY: Yeah. He worked freelance mostly. He won a "bandy" award for
that one.
BRASS: So he worked for an ad agency. What else did he do for a living?
TRENT CALLOWAY: That's it, as far as I know.
(GRISSOM puts the painting back down against the wall.)
BRASS: What about you? I mean, besides painting walls.
TRENT CALLOWAY: I'm a bouncer at the french palace. I throw guys like you out.
(BRASS chuckles.)
BRASS: Yeah. You know, you don't seem too shook up about DaSilva's death.
TRENT CALLOWAY: We weren't that close. We had some mutual friends, he needed
someone to help him with this place and, uh, I never turn down a job.
(GRISSOM steps away and looks around.)
BRASS: Well, I hope you got paid in advance.
(GRISSOM walks through the hallway. He pushes the plastic sheet aside and walks
into the bedroom. He looks around the place. He shines the light on the open
closet, puts down his kit and reaches to turn the closet light switch on.)
(GRISSOM kneels down and picks up a pair of shoes. He looks at their soles. He
examines another pair of shoes ... and another. He continues to examine the
shoes when BRASS walks in holding a photo.)
BRASS: Found a picture of Victor DaSilva and, uh ... somebody.
GRISSOM: What does that mean?
BRASS: Cut out.
(BRASS shows the photo to GRISSOM who takes it and looks at it.)
GRISSOM: So bizarre, human behavior. What you can't cut out of your mind you
can always cut out of your photo album.
BRASS: Why are we in the closet?
GRISSOM: I got a call from Greg Sanders, at our lab. He found peanut shells on
the foot pedals of Victor DaSilva's car.
BRASS: Hmm.
(GRISSOM stops as the pair of shoes in his hands has peanut shells stuck on the
undersides.)
GRISSOM: And voila.
BRASS: (yells) Mr. Calloway, would you mind coming in here, please?
(GRISSOM stands up with the pair of shoes in his hands. TRENT CALLOWAY walks
into the bedroom.)
GRISSOM: Mr. Calloway ... is there a remote possibility that Victor DaSilva
ever worked at a concession stand of some sort like at a ballpark or ... the
secret garden of Siegfried and Roy in the elephants' habitat?
TRENT CALLOWAY: I don't think it's Victor's style. This is ridiculous.
GRISSOM: Well, not according to his size 11s.
(TRENT doesn't say anything. GRISSOM looks at TRENT.)
CUT TO:
[INT. JUVENILE DETENTION CENTER -- NIGHT]
(The door opens. The MAINTENANCE ENGINEER leads WARRICK through the backroom
where the pipes are.)
MAINTENANCE ENGINEER: I'm Telling you ... the kids in here got nothing but
time. You'd be surprised what they can come up with.
WARRICK: Nothing surprises me anymore.
MAINTENANCE ENGINEER: Yeah? Wait awhile. This is the main thoroughfare for all
the toilets. All the goods come through here.
(The MAINTENANCE ENGINEER puts his kit down and opens it.)
MAINTENANCE ENGINEER: You know, it's funny -- I wanted to be a surgeon.
(He takes out a huge wrench.)
MAINTENANCE ENGINEER: Step back for Molly.
(He uses the wrench and unscrews the pipe open. The pipe opens. WARRICK steps
forward.)
WARRICK: Step back for Warrick.
(WARRICK pushes up his jacket sleeve and leans in to look. He breathes out at
the stench.)
WARRICK: Whew!
(WARRICK sticks his hand in and up the pipe searching for whatever is blocking
the flow.)
(He finds it and pulls it out. Excess water flows out of the pipe. WARRICK
exhales at the stench.)
WARRICK: Whew!
(He looks at what he pulled out. It's underwear wrapped around what looks like
a sharpened toothbrush with a razor in its handle. He looks at the weapon. He
looks at the razor. Camera zooms in for a closeup.)
(He sighs.)
WARRICK: Impressive.
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - FORENSIC AUTOPSY -- NIGHT]
(GRISSOM, SARA, NICK and DR. ROBBINS are in the autopsy room standing around the
sheet-covered skinned body. TERI MILLER is also there. They remove the sheet
to shower her the body.)
DR. ALBERT ROBBINS: Dr. Miller, this is outside my purview as a coroner.
(She looks at the body and steps forward. In her hand is a small microcassette
recorder that she speaks into as she visually examines the body.)
TERI MILLER: The specimen's pelvic girdle and spine ... are curved and upright
suggesting the species may be quadrupedal. The left and right femur and humerus
are derivative of the tarsius.
(She steps back, shakes her head, turns off the recorder and sighs.)
TERI MILLER: I think I know what this is. Your preliminary evaluation is
correct, Dr. Robbins. It's not human. It's a primate. More specifically, a
gorilla.
(This surprises SARA. Camera holds on GRISSOM.)
FADE OUT.
(COMMERCIAL SET)
FADE IN.
[INT. CSI - NIGHT]
(SARA is sitting in the dark in the room looking at and listening to the
computer information about gorillas.)
NARRATOR: (on computer) Bushmeat hunters thrive on the murdering of gorillas
for profit. In the United States their meat is considered a delicacy. It is
said if the animal is ingested its great powers will be passed on to the
consumer.
(In the doorway, GRISSOM suddenly switches the lights on, a clipboard in his
hand. SARA turns to look at him.)
GRISSOM: What are you doing?
(GRISSOM walks into the room.)
SARA: Working the case.
GRISSOM: What case?
SARA: The skinned gorilla torso forty miles outside of Baker. Remember?
GRISSOM: I don't think that is a case.
SARA: Well, it was at the start of shift. A crime has been committed.
(GRISSOM looks at the table next to SARA and sees a CD ROM disk about "Gorillas"
along with a companion magazine, "GORILLA: In it's Natural Environment".)
GRISSOM: I hate to be the one to state the obvious, but, uh ... this isn't a
human being we're dealing with -- it's an animal.
(SARA waits for him to continue.)
SARA: And ...
GRISSOM: And every time a dog gets run over you can't go to the vet to examine
it.
(SARA snorts, a smile on her face.)
SARA: I can't believe you. You, with your pet tarantula your maggot farms,
that komodo dragon on back order ... you should be more sympathetic to the
senseless murder of an innocent gorilla.
GRISSOM: (amused) You're right. I apologize. I was just checking to see
where your head was at. For now, you're working alone. Catherine needed Nick.
SARA: Bummer.
(GRISSOM turns to head back toward the doorway.)
GRISSOM: We got another dead body call.
SARA: Wait. Is he missing a head?
GRISSOM: Maybe. Meantime, you're on standby in case Nick needs backup.
(SARA nods. GRISSOM turns the clipboard to show SARA the sheet that's on it.)
GRISSOM: Your evaluation form. "Overall performance: Outstanding." "Ability
to prioritize:" ...
(GRISSOM turns and starts walking out the doorway. He throws over his shoulder
... )
GRISSOM: ... "Improvement needed."
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - HALLWAY]
(CATHERINE and NICK walk through the hallway. CATHERINE glances at her pager.)
NICK: You up for a riddle?
CATHERINE: Sure. Why not?
(She clips the pager to her waist.)
NICK: Okay, repeat after me: Silk, silk, silk.
CATHERINE: (puzzled) Silk, silk, silk.
NICK: (smiling) What do cows drink?
CATHERINE: Water. Why?
(NICK'S smile fades.)
NICK: (mutters) Never mind.
(He shakes his head and continues to walk through the hallway next to
CATHERINE.)
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - DNA LAB]
(GREG looks at the toothbrush in his hand. WARRICK stands next to him.)
GREG SANDERS: Who thought that a toothbrush could take a kid's life?
WARRICK: Yeah. Son of a bitch was crafty -- I'll give him that. Melted the end
of the toothbrush to insert the razor blade.
GREG SANDERS: Then why the rubber band?
(WARRICK takes the toothbrush and pushes the rubber band up against the razor so
that it's hidden.)
WARRICK: Concealment.
GREG SANDERS: Oh, that's deep.
WARRICK: Yeah. Now all I got to do is put this shank in someone's hand.
CUT TO:
[EXT. COLLINS U-STORE IT - DAY]
(Establishing. Camera holds on the large sign. It reads:
COLLINS U-STORE-IT
CHEAP, CONVENIENT, SECURE. )
[INT. COLLINS U-STORE IT - HALLWAY - NIGHT]
(CATHERINE and NICK walk through the hallway carrying their kits. The officers
there light the way toward the unit with the body.)
(As they turn the hallway, they notice bloodied prints on the ground.)
CATHERINE: Hey ... here's something new.
(CATHERINE and NICK stop at a bloodied print on the ground. CATHERINE puts her
kit down.)
CATHERINE: The cousin of footprints. Sock prints ... look. That's not from a
shoe. Look at the fabric impressions. The guy ran out of here in his socks.
NICK: (nods) Mm-hmm. Perp thought he could cover his tracks by taking off his
shoes.
CATHERINE: (looks at NICK) He thought wrong.
(Cut to: CATHERINE and NICK duck under the crime scene tape and head for BRASS
who starts filling them in on the details.)
BRASS: Manager spotted the blood during a night sweep.
(NICK puts his kit down and walks in deeper into the unit.)
BRASS: Want to know who the shed reregistered to? Victor DaSilva.
CATHERINE: Our head.
(NICK looks at the body in the trunk.)
NICK: Oh ... so this is the rest of his body?
BRASS: It ain't gorilla.
(BRASS sighs, turns and leaves. CATHERINE and NICK watch for a moment, then
turn back to the body in the trunk.)
CATHERINE: Well, this amount of blood suggests that the victim was killed here.
Why don't I do the one-to-ones and you start looking for the weapon?
NICK: Yeah-- whatever punctures, whatever chops.
(Cut to: CATHERINE snaps a photo. She takes out a small ruler from her kit and
sets it down next to the sockprint. She snaps a couple more pictures.)
(Cut to: NICK checks out the shelves in the unit looking for the murder weapon.
The cabinet behind NICK is #253.)
(Cut to: CATHERINE also looks at the shelves.)
(Cut back to: NICK moves a painting aside.)
(Cut to: CATHERINE continues to look at the shelves. NICK picks up an old
shirt and finds a hammer inside. He examines the hammer. On the shelf,
CATHERINE finds a small hatchet wrapped in a piece of cloth.)
(NICK looks at the hammer in his hand.)
NICK: Bob Villa.
(CATHERINE looks at the blood on the hatchet.)
CATHERINE: Paul Bunyan.
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - LAB - DAY]
(CATHERINE reaches in to the evidence box and takes out the skull. GRISSOM is
looking at the bloodied hammer.)
CATHERINE: By the way, what about my evaluation?
(GRISOSM stops looking at the bloodied hammer and looks at CATHERINE.)
GRISSOM: Keep up the good work, Catherine.
(CATHERINE doesn't say anything as she glances at GRISSOM.)
GRISSOM: Are those molds dry yet?
(CATHERINE removes the mold from the skull's jaw.)
CATHERINE: They're tacky.
(She compares the mold to the edge of the axe.)
CATHERINE: Hmm, positive to positive.
GRISSOM: That'll never hold up in court, though. We're going to need to make
negative molds.
(CATHERINE puts the ax aside and holds out her hand for the hammer.)
CATHERINE: Tabling the ax. Hammer time.
(She compares the hammer to the mold taken from the top of the skull's head.
She glances at GRISSOM.)
CATHERINE: Um ... pretty close.
GRISSOM: All right, I fed the measurements from the claw end of the hammer.
(GRISSOM hits a couple of keys on the computer keyboard. He holds the scanner
end against the skull. He hits the keyboard and the models on the monitor of
the skull and the hammer match. Still, GRISSOM'S not satisfied.)
GRISSOM: Something doesn't seem right about this. Why would you use the claw
end of the hammer to kill him and not the hammer end?
(CATHERINE thinks about it.)
CATHERINE: Wait a minute. Maybe it wasn't about hitting him in the head.
Maybe it was about fitting him in the locker.
(Quick flashback to: The murderer gathers the ends of the plastic around the
head of the dead body and tries to close the trunk. The cover doesn't close.
He pushes down hard on the cover, but it still won't fit.)
(Cut to: The murderer unwraps the plastic from the head of the body. He pulls
the head back over the edge of the trunk. He turns and grabs the hammer.)
(Cut to: With the claw hooked into the skull and holding it steady with one
hand, the murderer hacks at the neck with the ax. Blood spatters everywhere.)
(End of flashback. Resume to present.)
GRISSOM: (realizes) So the footlocker had no headroom.
CATHERINE: (smiles) Exactly.
CUT TO:
[EXT./INT. DA SILVA'S HOUSE - DAY]
(NICK cuts the red tape across the door to DaSilva's house. He opens the door
and walks in, pushing aside the plastic sheets to enter the house. SARA follows
behind him.)
(NICK looks around the living room.)
SARA: So, uh, Tricky Nick. What did you get on your evaluation?
(She taps him on the back of his shoulder to get his attention.)
NICK: It's private.
(They walk deeper into the house.)
SARA: Yeah, but how many "outstandings" did Grissom give you?
NICK: Enough.
(They walk into the bedroom.)
SARA: What did he tell you to look for?
(NICK puts his kit down in front of the closet and looks at SARA.)
NICK: Grissom didn't tell me anything.
(NICK opens the closet doors.)
NICK: I put this together myself.
(NICK kneels down on the closet floor in front of the line of shoes.)
NICK: Give me some light here, will you, partner?
SARA: Yeah.
(SARA steps forward to help. NICK starts checking all the pairs of shoes.)
NICK: All right, it's like this: Sock prints were found at the crime scene:
Size 11. Shoes Grissom took from the closet here: Size 11. Dasilva's shoe
size: Ten. So whose size 11's were they? Grissom missed something.
(He doesn't find anything, hangs his head and sighs heavily. SARA continues to
look at the closet.)
(NICK raises his head and gives it another look. He checks a pair of shoes,
then sees something caught inside the cuff of the pants hanging.)
(He reaches over and picks it up. SARA moves the flashlight to give him more
light. They both look at the peanut and nod at each other.)
(They both stand up and take a look at the clothes the pants belong to. It's a
yellow shirt with a patch over the left breast that reads: SPUR'S CORRAL.)
SARA: "Spur's Corral." I know that place. They give you peanuts for starters
instead of bread or chips and salsa.
(NICK reaches for his phone.)
NICK: I'm calling Grissom.
SARA: Look, you obviously don't need my help. I-I got go put something to
rest. See you later?
(Using his teeth, NICK pulls out the phone's antennae. He starts dialing.)
NICK: All right. Thanks.
(SARA turns and leaves.)
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - FORENSIC AUTOPSY - DAY]
(DR. ROBBINS opens the morgue cabinet and pulls out the table with the sheet-
covered body on it.)
DR. ALBERT ROBBINS: The body from the storage shed -- it's Victor DaSilva, all
right. We ran his prints.
GRISSOM: It's nice that he still had his hands.
(He pulls the sheet aside.)
DR. ALBERT ROBBINS: I was wrong about the cause of death.
GRISSOM: The hammer didn't do it?
DR. ALBERT ROBBINS: No. He was shot point-blank in the heart.
(He points to the bullet hole.)
DR. ALBERT ROBBINS: .380. Imagine the human heart as an apple.
(Quick CGI POV to: Camera on an red apple. A gunshot is heard and a high speed
bullet appears from the left and pierces through the apple, ripping it to
shreads.)
DR. ALBERT ROBBINS: (v.o.) Instant liquefaction.
(End of flashback. Resume to present.)
CATHERINE: We found everything else in that shed. I don't know why we didn't
find a gun.
GRISSOM: Well, maybe he was shot somewhere else.
CATHERINE: That would explain the plastic.
(GRISSOM looks confused, then moves to stand in front of CATHERINE.)
GRISSOM: What plastic? You never told me about any plastic.
CATHERINE: I didn't? Oh.
(CATHERINE turns and walks away. GRISSOM follows her.)
CATHERINE: The victim was wrapped in a plastic sheet.
GRISSOM: Victor DaSilva's entire house was covered in plastic. He was having
it painted.
CATHERINE: Really? Who's the painter?
(She stops in front of the door.)
GRISSOM: Nobody famous.
(GRISSOM opens the door and they leave.)
CATHERINE: Yet.
FADE OUT.
(COMMERCIAL SET)
FADE IN.
[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT - INTERVIEW ROOM - DAY]
(CATHERINE and BRASS interview TRENT CALLOWAY. CATHERINE is putting on her
latex gloves.)
BRASS: You had access to victor DaSilva's house?
TRENT CALLOWAY: Yeah, I was painting it.
BRASS: You own a gun? I don't mean a paint gun.
TRENT CALLOWAY: No.
CATHERINE: Okay, let's get right to it. What's your shoe size?
TRENT CALLOWAY: Why?
GRISSOM: I have a shoe fetish. I love feet.
TRENT CALLOWAY: It's 13.
BRASS: Take off your shoes and socks. We need to verify.
(CATHERINE takes a sheet of print paper and puts it down on the ground while
TRENT CALLOWAY takes off his shoes and socks.)
(He sticks out his foot. CATHERINE uses a roller and applies the ink. She puts
his foot down.)
CATHERINE: Okay ... step on the paper.
(TRENT CALLOWAY stands up and leaves his foot print behind. CATHERINE compares
the print to the sock print.)
CATHERINE: Two sizes too big. You can go.
CUT TO:
[INT. SPUR'S CORRAL - DAY]
(GRISSOM and BRASS are at SPUR'S CORRAL. Like a layer of carpet, peanut shells
and skin remains litter the floor. GRISSOM stares at it as BRASS peels some
peanuts. He tosses the shells and skins on the floor.)
GRISSOM: I'd tell you not to step on the evidence, but, uh...
BRASS: Yeah, but what's the point? Pretty good gimmick they got here, though.
You eat peanuts, toss the shells on the floor -- nobody gives a rat's ass.
(BRASS tosses more peanut shells on the floor as they make their way toward the
RESTAURANT MANAGER and to NICK who is already there interviewing him.)
NICK: You sure you can't help me out?
RESTAURANT MANAGER No. Victor DaSilva never worked here.
NICK: We found one of your uniforms in his closet. Any idea how it got there?
RESTAURANT MANAGER: No.
NICK: Guys ... look, boss, I'm sorry. I thought I was onto something here. I
had a conflict in shoe sizes so I thought I'd play a hunch. Sara was right
there. We were checking out the shoes ... (echo-y voice) ... and we found some
peanuts in the cuff links and go up and Spurs Corral.
(As NICK speaks, GRISSOM is distracted by the large wall display behind him. A
large decorated sombrero hanging on the wall.)
BRASS: Incidental.
NICK: I don't think so.
(GRISSOM continues to stare at the display. It's something that he recognizes.)
NICK: ...so that's why I buzzed you guys down. You got to follow your hunches,
right?
GRISSOM: Yeah, sure. Jim.
BRASS: Yeah.
GRISSOM: You still got that picture that you took from DaSilva's house?
(NICK seems confused by the leap in thinking.)
BRASS: Yeah. Yeah. Here it is.
(BRASS reaches into his pocket and gives GRISSOM the picture.)
(GRISSOM looks at the picture. It's the same sombrero.)
NICK: What? You're looking at the sombrero?
(GRISSOM stares at the torn edge of the photo.)
GRISSOM: The earrings. Victor DaSilva was here with someone he cut out of his
life.
BRASS: Probably his girlfriend.
(GRISSOM calls out to the RESTAURANT MANAGER.)
GRISSOM: Excuse me. You recognize this ear?
(The RESTAURANT MANAGER looks at GRISSOM.)
RESTAURANT MANAGER: You got to be kidding me. (He takes a look at the picture
and is surprised that he actually does recognize it.) Wait a minute. Yeah, I
do. I do recognize those earrings.
SHORT TIME CUT TO:
[CAMERA CLOSE UP OF THE EAR WITH THE EARRINGS]
BRASS: Fred Applewhite?
(The camera pulls back a little to show FRED APPLEWHITE, a waiter at the SPUR'S
CORRAL. He turns around and looks at GRISSOM, BRASS and NICK. He smiles
pleasantly, a couple of menus tucked under his arm.)
FRED APPLEWHITE: Y'all here for lunch?
GRISSOM: No. Takeout.
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - FORENSIC AUTOPSY - DAY]
(SARA approaches TERI MILLER as she works on the gorilla body.)
SARA: I heard you were disassembling the gorilla.
TERI MILLER: For purposes of disease control. Per the CDC, I have to take
samples and dispose of this animal immediately.
SARA: Well, I've been trying to find out who did this to her and, um, I have
some questions.
(TERI continues to work.)
TERI MILLER: You ask, I'll answer.
SARA: Why did they amputate the gorilla's head?
TERI MILLER: It's a trophy. American fetishists would pay up to $10,000 for
the head of a lowland gorilla.
SARA: The hands and feet?
TERI MILLER: Novelty items. Sold as ashtrays.
SARA: Here Nick and I were thinking it was to avoid I.D. Why skin it?
TERI MILLER: Purses, shoes, boots ... It's sad. Genetically we're 92.7%
identical with gorillas.
SARA: It's hard to tell where the human ends and the animal begins.
TERI MILLER: Well said.
SARA: I checked out a couple of websites ... bushmeat[dot]net, gorilla[dot]org.
I think she was killed probably in Cameroon or Congo transported to the port of
Los Angeles. Dismembered, packaged ... loaded onto a small plane ... where they
dumped what they couldn't sell but, uh, I just have to find the plane.
TERI MILLER: Needle in a haystack. Chances are, whoever did this are halfway
around the world by now.
SARA: There has to be something I can do.
TERI MILLER: Actually, there is.
CUT TO:
[EXT. DESERT -- DAY]
(SARA sits cross-legged on the ground, a small shovel in her grip. She digs a
hole in front of her. When she gets it big enough, she puts the shovel aside
and takes a gold-colored container and opens it. She pours the ashes into the
hole in front of her.)
(When the container is empty, she uses her bare hands and fills the hole with
dirt.)
SARA: For every one that parts, one stands aboveground.
(SARA sits quiet and alone in front of the make-shift grave.)
CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - GARAGE -- DAY]
(NICK inks FRED APPLEWHITE'S feet with the inked roller. When he's done, he
stands up.)
NICK: Okay, Mr. Applewhite ... take a walk.
(FRED APPLEWHITE stands up and walks along the stretch of white paper spread out
on the garage floor. As he walks, CATHERINE and NICK look through the sock
print photos from the crime scene.)
(He reaches the end, turns around, and walks back to the stool.)
CATHERINE: Okay, great. Now, Mr. Applewhite ... this time, I want you to do
something different.
(CATHERINE kneels down and pushes a fresh roll of paper along the floor. FRED
APPLEWHITE moves to the second sheet of paper.)
CATHERINE: This time ... run.
(FRED APPLEWHITE steps onto the fresh paper and runs across it.)
(Quick flash to a bottom view of the floor as if someone where walking in blood
on glass. The socked feet leaves red impressions behind.)
GRISSOM: (v.o.) Footprints are almost as reliable
(End of flash. Resume to present.)
[INT. CSI - LAB]
(GRISSOM explains the print analysis to FRED APPLEWHITE.)
GRISSOM: ... as fingerprints and every step tells a story. The first few
steps, you were walking.
(GRISSOM points to the foot prints on the paper spread across the table.)
GRISSOM: See the complete heel, arch and five little piggies? The next few
steps, however ...
(GRISSOM, NICK and CATHERINE pushes the paper closer toward them so that he can
see the prints they're looking at.)
GRISSOM: ... the heel disappears. All of the pressure is put on ball of the
foot and toes. Why? Because you were running. And my guess is that, on the day
you had a head in your hand.
NICK: You see, everyone's foot makes a unique well impression. Check it out.
(NICK puts the sock print photos on the table in front of them.)
NICK: The, uh width ... ball of the foot ... instep ... arch ... and, uh ...
(NICK throws another photo on the table. This one is of the complete foot.)
NICK: ... size 11 for dessert.
GRISSOM: Mr. Applewhite your footprints ... place you at the crime scene.
FRED APPLEWHITE: Victor and I were partners. We shared everything including in
our house and the storage shed.
BRASS: We know that. When did you move out?
FRED APPLEWHITE: Three months ago. He found somebody else ... kicked me out.
BRASS: And you took all your possessions with you?
FRED APPLEWHITE: Not everything.
BRASS: So, you were hoping for a reconciliation.
FRED APPLEWHITE: Yeah. I thought, once Victor got this new guy out of his
system he'd come around.
GRISSOM: But he didn't, did he? That's why you went to his house last night.
FRED APPLEWHITE: Who said I went there?
GRISSOM: The plastic.
(GRISSOM holds up a sample.)
GRISSOM: You know ... the plastic that you lay down when you paint a house.
The kind of plastic that you, uh ...
(GRISSOM holds up a photo of the body in the plastic in the trunk.)
GRISSOM: ... wrap a dead body in. The plastic that we found your fingerprints
on.
BRASS: Let me tell you what I think happened.
(Quick flashback to: [INT. VICTOR DASILVA'S RESIDENCE] Victor waves at the
possessions in the house.)
VICTOR DASILVA: Take what you want. I don't care. I've moved on.
(FRED turns and walks up to VICTOR. He's upset that VICTOR doesn't care more.)
FRED APPLEWHITE: What do you think you're going to do, just paint me out of
your life?
VICTOR DASILVA: Just take what you want and get out.
FRED APPLEWHITE: I'll tell you what I want.
(FRED tapes a couple of steps away, he turns around with a gun in his hand, and
fires.)
(Cut to: FRED is wrapping VICTOR'S dead body in the plastic sheets. He rolls
the body till he's completely covered.)
(Cut to: FRED has the body in a trunk and tries to close the trunk lid. It
won't shut.)
(Cut to: FRED unwraps the plastic from the head. Grabbing a handful of hair,
he pulls the head back over the edge of the trunk.)
(Cut to: FRED slams the trunk lid shut. He looks down and sees the blood on
the floor. He reaches down and takes his shoes off.)
(Cut to: With the head under his arm and the shoes in his other hand, FRED runs
out of the storage unit hallway.)
(Cut to: [EXT. U-STORE-IT PARKING LOT - NIGHT] FRED drives the car into the
parking lot. He parks the car. He forgot something.)
FRED APPLEWHITE: Damn it! God!
(FRED runs out and back toward the Storage Unit.)
(End of flashback. Resume to present.)
BRASS: So, what did you forget?
FRED APPLEWHITE: You wouldn't believe it, but I forgot to lock the shed.
BRASS: And when you came back out your car was gone.
FRED APPLEWHITE: Yeah. (shakes his head) I don't know who took it.
GRISSOM: We do.
(Quick flashback to: [EXT. PARKING LOT - NIGHT] ANNA LEAH and LORI quickly
escape out of the back of the parked van.
ANNA LEAH: Wait, Lori!
(They walk through the parking lot looking desperately for a way to get away.
ANNA LEAH sees the car.)
(Cut to: LORI follows ANNA LEAH to the car. They get into the car. They drive
off.)
(End of flashback. Resume to present.)
(BRASS escorts FRED APPLEWHITE out of the lab. GRISSOM mumbles to NICK while
NICK picks up the photos from the table.)
GRISSOM: You know that reminds me -- I got to remember to take Greg Sanders to
lunch. He did a nice job sniffing out those peanuts.
(NICK smiles as GRISSOM leaves.)
NICK: (nods) Yeah, he did.
(NICK smiles.)
CUT TO:
[INT POLICE DEPARTMENT - INTERVIEW ROOM]
(SGT. O'RILEY and RONNIE CONNORS wait in the room. WARRICK walks in carrying
some papers.)
O'RILEY: We were waiting for you. Meet Ronnie Connors.
(WARRICK looks around and doesn't see anyone else in the room when he clearly
expected to see his lawyer.)
WARRICK: Where's his attorney?
RONNIE CONNORS: (with attitude) What you talking to him about my business?
Ask me.
(SGT. O'RILEY doesn't say anything. He stands up and puts a hand on WARRICK'S
shoulder. He goes to stand in front of the door.)
WARRICK: Where's your lawyer?
RONNIE CONNORS: (to O'RILEY) Ask him.
(WARRICK doesn't say anything. He takes a seat at the table opposite RONNIE
CONNORS.)
WARRICK: How's your plaque?
RONNIE CONNORS: My what?
WARRICK: Your teeth. I mean, how many toothbrushes does a guy need?
(RONNIE CONNORS doesn't say anything.)
WARRICK: Apparently, for you it's as many as it takes to make the perfect shank.
RONNIE CONNORS: Let me tell you something, Breeze. I'm L.A. County/Slauson
payback crip, cuz. I got a lot of offspring up in here -- black as night. They
answer to me because I'm the macaroni. I mean, seriously ... you have any idea
who you talking to?
WARRICK: Yeah.
(Quick flashback to: Camera close up of an inmate holding the shank in his
hand. End of flashback. Resume to present.)
(WARRICK keeps his eye contact on RONNIE CONNORS without backing down. RONNIE
CONNORS is the first to avert his eyes.)
CUT TO:
[INT. JUVENILE DETENTION CENTER - DAY]
(WARRICK is in the room filling JAMES MOORE in on his investigation.)
JAMES MOORE: So I don't have to testify?
WARRICK: (shakes his head) The evidence will testify for you. Ronnie Connors
... bought a toothbrush and some rubber bands at the commissary. He didn't know
it but that's the last shank he'll ever make.
JAMES MOORE: How'd you know it was RC's?
WARRICK: Before he made the shank he shaved with the same razor. His DNA was
all over the blade.
JAMES MOORE: Oh, god.
(JAMES realizes that he's really off of the hook. His eyes start to tear with
relief and with gratitude.)
JAMES MOORE: I owe you, man.
WARRICK: It's not me you have to thank.
(WARRICK looks just beyond JAMES. JAMES quickly turns around to see who
WARRICK'S looking at. Standing behind him is his grandfather.)
(It's been a while since he's seen him. JAMES stands up and goes to meet him.)
(Without saying a word, CHARLES MOORE grabs JAMES in a solid hug.)
JAMES MOORE: (whispers) I love you, grandpa.
(WARRICK stands up and turns to leave the room.)
CHARLES MOORE: You're all I got, James. You're everything to me, you hear?
(JAMES nods.)
(WARRICK turns to the door and leaves the room.)
(The camera slowly pulls back on CHARLES and JAMES.)
CUT TO:
[EXT. LAS VEGAS CITY (STOCK) - NIGHT]
[EXT. LAS VEGAS CITY (STOCK) - NIGHT]
[EXT. ROLLER COASTER - TOP OF THE CASINO/HOTEL - NIGHT]
(The riders are getting settled in their coaster seats. GRISSOM is already
settled in when he reaches up and pulls WARRICK into the seat next to him.
WARRICK looks scrunched up and confused.)
WARRICK: I thought you said we were grabbing a beer.
GRISSOM: (excited) We are, after this.
WARRICK: (ready to bag) Grissom, you know, this is your thing.
(WARRICK grabs the rail to get out of the coaster when GRISSOM stops him. He
pulls him back down into the seat.)
GRISSOM: Ah-ah-ah. Every nine years and 34 days I feel like sharing. You'll
like it. It cleanses you.
(GRISSOM reaches up and pulls the harness down on WARRICK, trapping him in the
seat, and securing it shut.)
WARRICK: Cleanses me?
(GRISSOM pulls down his harness.)
WARRICK: Whatever happened to my evaluation?
(beat)
GRISSOM: You're sitting in it.
(And the ride starts. WARRICK'S eyes snap to attention in front of him as the
coaster takes off.)
(Various cuts of WARRICK and GRISSOM and of the coaster ride.)
WARRICK: (yells) Oh, yes!
FADE TO BLACK.
