♪ ♪
WOMAN: Morning, Doug!
Keep that pace up, Mrs. Barton.
You're going to kill in that 10K.
If I wasn't so out of breath, I'd kiss you for saying that.
I'll take a rain check.
Still waiting on that video game I ordered, Doug.
You order a lot of games, Travis.
You know that stuff will rot your brain.
But I should have gotten it by now.
I've told you before, I can't pull stuff out of order.
Come on, man.
You just have to wait your turn.
♪ ♪
Good morning.
You know I requested that as a rush.
Kept me waiting.
I'm sorry, Mrs. Cullivan.
Maybe I can come inside and make it up to you.
(doorbell chimes) WOMAN 2: Hi, Doug.
(doorbell chimes) WOMAN 3: Morning, Doug.
DOUG: Morning, Mary. (wolf whistle) (knocking on door, doorbell chimes) WOMAN 4: Hi, Doug.
Good morning.
Good morning. (woman laughs) Thank you, Mrs. Cullivan.
Thank you. (device beeps) See you tomorrow.
(engine starts) (grunting)
(glass shatters) (police siren wails) DISPATCHER: WOMAN: Oh, my God! He's dead! \h He's dead!
DISPATCHER: Ma'am, calm down. Speak slowly.
WOMAN: The World Send driver! I found \h him in the back of his truck.
He was all sliced up! \h DISPATCHER: We're on the way, now.
WOLFE: Meet our vic, Doug Govoli.
Based on the cast off, looks like our victim didn't go down easy. In fact, I'd say he put up a pretty good fight.
I would agree with that.
Mr. Wolfe.
Box cutter.
With the victim's name on it.
Weapon of opportunity?
Let's see. We have...
lacerations on both palms...
and a ligature on the neck.
I'm guessing made by some type of wire.
WOLFE: This started off as a \h strangulation.
Looks that way, and he was dragged back here, \h out of sight.
WOLFE: That's when the box cutter came into play.
Did you find anything from his paperwork?
I checked the manifest. Nothing is missing.
Take a look at this.
Maybe our victim was the one who was stealing.
Do you think it might have been personal?
CAINE: It usually is, Mr. Wolfe.
Usually is.
♪ Yeah! ♪
♪ We don't get fooled again ♪ ♪ Don't get fooled again ♪ ♪ No, no! ♪
MAN: The World Send driver?
I already told you, I don't know him.
My girlfriend signed for deliveries.
Really, Mr. Trejo? Because we talked to a few of the customers on this driver's route.
Some of them are your neighbors. Mm-hmm.
And they say that you had a fight with him this morning.
Well, did these neighbors tell you that the guy's a creep?
Always hitting on our girlfriends and wives?
Some of them mentioned he was delivering more than packages, yeah.
Is that what he did with your girlfriend?
You know what? Let's get something clear right now.
My girlfriend never stepped out. She wanted it to stop!
So I made sure that it did.
Well, I-I get off of work at 4:00, if you want to grab a drink or...
(grunting) If you ever say a word to my girlfriend again, I'll put you in a box.
(grunts, crashes) So I guess if you find a little piece of dust, or something, then that'd be from our fight. (cell phone rings) Or from when you escalated it to murder.
(phone beeps) Yeah, this is Wolfe.
Open your mouth, Mr. Trejo.
Hey. Open your mouth!
Now, you know we did our homework before we came out here to see you, and you've got quite a few assault charges on your record.
That's before my girlfriend civilized me... sir.
Look...
I got a good life, now. I'm not going to let some...
mailman in shorts mess it up.
And I'm certainly not going to do it by murdering someone.
DELKO: Construction, huh?
That's good for you.
(stapling) Allison, can you get me another staple gun?
This one's jammed again.
SIMMONS: Hey, Doc.
So, you haven't sent up a flare yet. We're kind of wondering what's going on with the victim.
(stapling) As you can see, Walter, I'm up to my elbows in bodies.
So, I am not nearly done with the analysis of the driver.
(stapling) Is there any way I can help speed it along? How about his clothes?
With all that blood on his shirt you should make sure all of it's his.
Okay. Thanks, Doc.
(stapling) Hey, Doc?
There's something crusty on here that is definitely not blood.
What do you think that is?
Biological? LOMAN: Good eye.
Maybe mucous?
Someone spit on our driver.
You know, the lab I transferred from actually has a system of processing evidence: first come, first serve. Yeah, but we're a bit more flexible here in Miami.
And by "we," you mean "me." I do.
Vic's been dead five hours already.
We don't even have a suspect.
Then lucky for you, we have a healthy chunk of DNA evidence.
What do ya got?
And the saliva goes to...
Travis Welks.
He's only 16.
He may be juvey, but he has the life experience of a 30-year-old.
Arrested for truancy, shoplifting possession of a controlled substance... SIMMONS: Drugs.
We really got to find this kid.
Thanks, Nikki. Mm-hmm.
WOLFE: Travis! Stop! BOA VISTA: Stop!
Hurry up, Ryan!
WOLFE: I'm coming! I'm coming!
BOA VISTA: Travis!
I'm going left. Okay.
Hey, stop!
WOLFE: Get down from there!
Get down. Get down. Turn around.
Did you just stick something in your mouth? Open your mouth.
He's got a baggie in there.
Spit it out. Spit it out.
Did you just swallow that? No.
He just swallowed a baggie of drugs.
Travis!
BOA VISTA: What was it, Travis?
What the hell did you just swallow?
I didn't swallow anything!
(cell phone dials) Oh, my God, kid, you are so stupid.
Get a bus right now.
I'm not going to have my only murder suspect die of an OD, right in front of me. Murder? This is CSI Boa Vista.
We need an ambulance... Yeah, murder.
Hey, get back here. Get back.
We found your saliva on the dead delivery guy.
Doug's dead? An OD victim is 16...
Yeah, Doug is dead.
I didn't kill him.
TRAVIS: I just wanted my delivery \h off of Doug's truck.
Hey, Travis.
Trying to steal from me?
My name's on it!
Give it up, Travis! Get off me!
(spits) What the hell?
Why were you in such a rush, Travis?
What was in the package?
Nothing. Come on, Travis, what was Doug delivering?
Travis?
I don't know.
WOLFE: You okay?
You got... you got some water?
You thirsty? Travis... BOA VISTA: Let me see.
His eyes are constricting. Travis, look at me.
He's OD'ing. You all right? Travis...
(groans) Call the ambulance!
I got it. I got it. I got it.
This is CSI Boa Vista. How far is that ambulance?
We need it now! Now! (Travis gasps) (siren wails)
(monitor beeping) BOA VISTA (over cell phone): Hey. How's Travis?
He is in a coma from a heroin overdose.
WOLFE: Doctor says that he's an addict.
Hate to say it, but there goes our only lead.
Maybe not.
What do you mean?
Well, we've got another murder. The victim was the next stop on our delivery driver's route.
I'm on my way. (phone beeps off)
WOLFE: Thanks.
Hey! So, uh, get me up to speed.
Okay. We found an ID.
The vic's name is Sheila Holland.
Our driver's next stop was her company.
So, what's she doing in a high school?
Well, her son goes to school here, so the principal's pulling him out of baseball practice right now.
So the whole gym was closed to paint the court.
Janitor came in to check on the paint, and that's when they found the body.
Thanks. So we've got a shoe.
Got some I.D. Obviously, some smears through the paint.
Okay, so where's the body?
(garbled radio transmission) You're kidding me.
It's under the bleachers?
Crushed under the bleachers.
We sure this isn't an accident?
Doubtful. The glass case for the controls were broken, and we didn't find any prints.
Okay, let's, uh, open up the bleachers.
Hey, Bailey, can you open up for us, please?
(mechanical whirring) (blood sloshing)
Oh!
She's got blue paint all over her knees.
She has it on her hands, too.
That's why the paint was smeared out on the floor.
She was running for her life.
Somebody! Somebody help me!
(whimpering) Oh. Oh. Oh!
(whimpering) (panting) Somebody! Oh!
She must have run under here to try to hide from whoever was chasing her.
Oh! God! Oh!
No! No! No!
Stop! Help!
Let me out of here!
Please don't do this! Please don't do this!
Help!
Oh. No!
I got to tell you.
This murder seems as personal to me as the driver.
You think Travis had something to do with this?
Well, we know that the driver was hitting on all the wives on his route.
Good morning.
BOA VISTA: Maybe he was hitting \h on our vic.
WOLFE: Maybe.
BOA VISTA: And just maybe someone didn't like that very much.
(school bell ringing) She was my stepmom.
No way she was stepping out on Dad.
They only got married two years ago.
Sheila was just like my mom, you know?
So, she owned a company, right?
A toy company, yeah.
She's always trying to come up with the next fad.
You ever see a Princess Chrissy doll?
Yeah, those were huge a couple of Christmases ago.
Not anymore, but she sells enough to stay afloat.
Do you know how often she used a company called World Send?
I don't know about her business.
You know where it is, though, right?
Can you write down the address for me?
(speed-dials) Uh, Horatio.
Hey, we just got the address to the second victim's company.
I think we should go over there and check out whatever packages were supposed to be picked up.
I'm on my way.
I have a list of every stop our delivery driver was gonna make today. Okay.
I want you to check in at every address and call me.
Horatio, you think they're in danger?
Anybody who's on that list is in danger.
(clang, bell ringing) Hey, what are you guys doing?
Will you call Mrs. Holland, please?
Mrs. Holland was murdered this morning.
Murdered? What?
Where do you keep the boxes that are supposed to be shipped out today?
We use three different carriers.
We're looking for World Send.
Okay, it's in the back.
Show us.
Yes, sir.
Mrs. Holland handles all the World Send shipments herself.
Why is that?
I don't know.
All I know is, anytime we get a new shipment in from the Mexico factory, she pulls out a few, repacks them and sends them via World Send.
Where is this heading?
I don't know. She hasn't labeled it yet.
Uh, you-you can't do that.
Step back, please.
Natalia, get me one of those other dolls, okay?
You see the difference in skin tone?
Yeah, I do.
That one has a whiter complexion.
The reason for that...
You see that?
(clinking) She's shipping a whole lot more than dolls.
That is pure heroin.
Horatio, you know Travis OD'd on heroin.
Well, Natalia, then I would say, there's definitely a connection.
TRAVERS: You're right \h about the dolls, Horatio.
It's a trick the smugglers use to get the drugs through customs.
They mix it with a resin, and then pressure-mold it into whatever shape they want.
In this case, doll parts.
How do they extract it for resale?
Well, it's gonna take me some time to break it down.
Find me. Mr. Wolfe.
All the dolls are made in Mexico.
Not all of them are made out of heroin.
That's how they made it through customs.
Yes, but Mr. Wolfe, your average doll maker just doesn't start selling drugs.
Well, she wasn't the only officer in the company.
I did some research.
Turns out, Peter Holland, her husband, was the vice president.
Bring Mr. Holland in, please. Yes, sir.
Mr. Holland, I recommend that your son leave the room.
No. He's, uh... He's fine.
I strongly recommend that he leaves.
He's my son.
Suit yourself.
Were you aware that your wife was using her business to traffic heroin?
Dad, what are they talking about?
Nick, wait outside. You guys got it way wrong.
Okay? Nick, go.
Sheila didn't even drink alcohol.
Just... Just go! Nick, I'm sorry.
Well, that was one hell of a stunt.
I gave you two warnings, didn't I?
Did you know about the drugs?
Look, I was just a V.P. in her company on paper, and I'll bet Sheila didn't even know about them.
She uses a company called World Send to pass them to someone.
We need to know who that is.
I can't believe this.
All you cops do is harass us taxpayers until we say what you want to hear.
And you're not answering the question.
WOLFE: Whoever's selling these drugs is killing people.
The delivery guy, your wife.
You and your son-- you could be next.
You need to think about that.
Oh, I am, Lieutenant.
Let's go, son. Come on.
I figured out how to get the heroin out of the dolls.
I'm listening.
It's quite a process.
First, you have to dissolve the doll parts in acetone.
Strain it, cook it off.
And since the heroin doesn't dissolve, a precipitate is left behind.
So we're looking for a pro?
I would say Ms. Holland is smuggling the drugs for someone else, yes.
Do we have the driver's delivery manifest?
Ah, yes.
What are we looking for?
Because this is a dangerous process, it's going to be a remote location.
Ah, here's one.
145 Elkhorn Drive.
CAINE: Is that the address \h for the naval shipyard?
TRAVERS: I believe so.
Tripp just called.
That's his next stop \h from the manifest.
Hang on a second.
(speed-dials) TRAVERS: Lieutenant, I doubt \h you'll get a signal in or out.
It's in the middle \h of nowhere.
(phone beeps off) Is there a problem?
Lieutenant?
Lieutenant?!
(weapons firing) (siren blaring) I need all south end units to 145 Elkhorn Drive.
Officer in need of assistance.
Damn it!
Oh!
(engine revving) (tires squeak) Frank! Frank!
(gunfire) Frank!
(rapid gunshots) (grunts) (rapid gunshots, body thuds) (gunfire stops) (Frank panting) What took you so long?
Traffic on the causeway, Frank.
(liquid burbling) (burbling continues) Well, welcome to the dollhouse.
(indistinct radio transmission, siren wailing in distance) (camera shutter clicking) (helicopter blades whirring) So, our driver picks up the dolls from the warehouse and brings them over here where they're melted down and, uh, the heroin's then cut for sale.
Orders come in, I guess they print the labels and pack them in these World Send boxes.
CAINE: And our driver delivers \h to customers all over town.
DELKO: Yeah, well, \h do you think this is a case of a rival trying to take out the competition? No, I don't.
A rival would start with the snake's head, Eric. Well, I thought that was Sheila Holland.
Maybe whoever's calling the shots is in this computer.
Let's take a look.
(beeping) Damn it.
It's encrypted.
Can you crack it?
I can try. I'll do my best.
Horatio? Yeah?
Heads up.
DEA just rolled in.
MAN: I need all MDPD to stop what they're doing immediately.
Okay, Eric, if you follow protocol, how much time do you need?
You the agent in charge here? Two minutes.
Two minutes; you got it.
Who's the CSI in charge here?
I believe you're looking for me, sir, Lieutenant Horatio Caine, MDPD.
MAN: Lieutenant.
Agent Connolly, DEA.
Were you aware that this location is under surveillance in a federal drug investigation?
Clearly not.
I have a murder investigation going on here.
First you spooked my guy on the inside, then you shoot the cooks I've been surveilling for months.
For the record, they shot first.
CONNOLLY: I have jurisdiction over any evidence you found here.
Quinn, relieve that CSI of our evidence.
DELKO: You know, Agent Connolly, this is outrageous.
I have a job to do here.
So do I.
TRIPP: Son of a bitch.
That laptop was gonna break our case.
Thank you for your help.
How'd we do? (chuckles) Followed protocol.
Am I missing something here? CAINE: Yes.
He just cloned the hard drive.
Thank you, Eric.
Horatio, who's their, uh, inside man?
I am gonna go talk to him.
Mr. Holland...
you were spying on your wife for the DEA.
BOA VISTA: We know that you are their inside man.
Look, I'm-I'm sorry.
But I-I was told that talking to you can be construed as "interfering with a federal investigation."
We just need to know who Sheila was working for.
I didn't even know what Sheila was doing until the DEA told me.
Look, Peter, you know I got to take somebody in for this.
And if you're not gonna help us, I will settle for you and your wife.
You've known this woman, what, two years?
You let her into your life, and now she's put you and your son at risk.
You don't owe her anything, Peter.
But she wasn't a bad person.
She was trafficking drugs for someone, and we need the name.
I never found one.
All I know is...
it was someone who knew her business was struggling.
Why do you say that?
I saw an e-mail she printed out.
Whoever it was... offered to transfer $50,000 into her account every month i-if she shipped something into the country for them.
Do you have an e-mail address?
The printout was missing the header.
And when I looked on her computer, all her e-mails were in code.
So, it was encrypted, just like the cook house.
Does the DEA have her computer now?
And you...
you think whoever wrote those e-mails killed my wife?
It's quite possible.
Look...
Connolly gave me something to put on Sheila's computer called a-a keystroke logger, and he never asked for it back.
Would that help you out?
It's a start.
Horatio, we're not gonna be able to find out from Travis who he bought the drugs from.
He's still in the coma; no change.
Let me... let me call you back.
(monitor beeping) Talked to you at the warehouse earlier today, right? Sean?
Yeah. What are you doing here?
Well, when I saw you at the warehouse, you told me this kid was here.
I wanted to see it for myself. See what?
What Mrs. Holland's drugs was doing to these kids.
I mean, they're killing them, right?
Yeah, they are.
Which basically means I killed them.
Come on, Sean.
I should've put it together.
I mean, I could've done something.
You were doing your job-- there's no way you could've known what was going on.
Look, I promise you, though-- we're gonna find out who's behind it.
Okay?
Ma'am?
Yeah?
What's his name?
Travis.
Is he gonna be okay?
They don't know yet.
Delko. Peter Holland just dropped off the key logger, God bless his soul.
Now we have all of Sheila's keystrokes.
All right, well, we're trying to break in to the cook's computer here to find our drug dealer, so...
how does that help me?
Well, our drug dealer communicated with both Sheila and the cooks via the same encrypted e-mails.
So I'm guessing that the password that she used is probably the same one that you need.
All right. Plug it in.
But we only get two tries before the hard drive erases itself.
Right.
All right. It's on.
We got to narrow this down.
Let's... let's try doing a search for "World Send."
Got it.
"World...
Send."
(computer trilling) Okay.
We're in business.
Princess Chrissy dolls...
(muttering) Delivery, delivery...
It would be before that...
That doesn't fit.
Okay. Delko, try this.
"Plan X."
And there's a space between "plan" and "X."
Remember the space.
(computer trilling) (sighs) No. We got one more try.
My bad.
(computer beeping) And 30 seconds to do it.
Damn it.
Come on, Walter. Come on, baby.
Come on.
Come on...
Walter... Delivery 546.
Hurry, man. (muttering) 15 seconds, Walter.
(grumbles) Come on. Walter.
That's not even a word.
What do you got?
Okay! Okay, okay. Try this.
Underscore, capital "M,"
little "J," capital "T,"
capital "T,"
little "K." Enter.
Ha! Yes!
You're a genius, Walter.
Okay. Now, who sent the email?
Haldis Construction.
I know that name.
Wait a minute.
See that "M.T."?
That's Marcos Trejo.
The jealous husband? That's right.
I was just over at his condo, and I bet you the fight he had with Doug, it wasn't over his girlfriend.
Shh.
Put that weapon down, and get your hands on your head.
Do it.
Hands on your head.
Okay, okay.
Marcos Trejo.
Let's get the girl out of here, please.
Don't you touch...
Shut up.
She's the least of your worries right now.
We deciphered your encryption, Marcos.
We know you were running a drug operation over the Internet.
I think it's time you start talking, Marcos.
Everything else was going wireless.
Why not drug dealers?
All my customers had to do was just point and click.
TREJO: I set up some fake Web sites that my customers \h could order from.
CAINE: And what about Sheila?
TREJO: I renovated her condo.
And when her business \h went south, I made her an offer \h she couldn't refuse.
Take in a few extra shipments \h from Mexico, sort out some dolls...
Hi, Doug. ...and ship them \h to my cook house.
Thank you.
How were you getting paid?
(sighs) Cash.
They delivered it to me, then they got their drugs.
The World Send driver, right, Marcos?
That's what the fight was about.
That was your cash in his truck.
Yeah. The packages, they seemed a little light lately.
I thought it was my customers.
Then I saw one of the boxes had been cut.
(both grunting) You think I'm an idiot, don't you?
You've been stealing from me, you think you can take my girlfriend, too?
You better pay back every last cent, or I'll put you in a box.
(crashes, grunts) CAINE: Doug figured out what you were into, didn't he?
Took some cash for himself, and so you killed him for it.
I already told you... I just scared him.
And what about Sheila Holland?
DEA closing in, figured you'd clean house?
You want to book me on the drug charge, go ahead 'cause you got nothing...
'Cause I sure as hell didn't kill anybody.
(computer trilling) WOLFE: Hey, Natalia, any luck yet with that print I just found in the van?
(computer beeps) No, no luck here. Well, we're gonna have to do better than this if we're ever gonna put Trejo in that van.
Hey, Walter, you doing any better than me with the fingerprints?
I wish I was. Got about half a dozen scuff marks from shoes that shall remain nameless.
Other than that, no headlines, no news.
Do we have an ear database?
Because I have a direct blood transfer here from an ear.
How do you know it isn't the victim's?
The victim didn't have any blood on his ears.
You know, I think I'm gonna let you submit that to the state's attorney.
Wait a second.
This ear print could determine how tall our killer was.
Come here.
Well, the only problem is, we don't know where those boxes were during the attack.
You know, I think he might be onto something, because our victim left us a clue as to how to put these boxes back.
The castoff from the blood?
Yeah. If we use the density and the directionality of the blood drops, we can figure out the placement of each box.
Yeah.
♪ ♪
Let me ask you something. How tall is Trejo?
Five-seven, max.
I'm five-nine.
Great, so we just proved the opposite of what we wanted to prove, which is Trejo didn't do it.
You know what? Switch out with me.
But... I'm six-five, which means our killer has to be six feet.
That, uh, the Travis kid's about that, right?
Yeah, but he's a drug addict. I mean, do you think he's physically capable of doing all this?
Well, if he's our killer, I'd bet there'd still be blood in his ear.
(monitor beeping) (indistinct announcement over P.A.)
Any trace of blood in his ear?
No, there's not.
But look what I found.
It looked as if someone had just slipped it under his hand.
Do we know if he has any family?
His mom, but she's been in Cancún; she's flying home today.
I wonder who left that.
When I was checking on Travis earlier, there was a kid here named Sean from Holland's warehouse.
Could that other kid be Sean?
Maybe, but he acted like he'd never seen Travis before.
Well, judging from this picture, I would say Travis is eight, maybe ten.
If the other kid is Sean, it looks like they've known each other for a long time.
Maybe long enough to kill for.
Whatever you guys are doing, if you don't mind making it quick, I got to get back to work.
You're not going anywhere, Sean.
You know, you're actually doing me a favor.
That factory's filled with dust.
So that's blood?
Must have cut myself or something.
Can't wait to hear the story when we find out it's not your blood.
I've been planning this for a long time.
Ever since I saw Travis becoming someone else.
Why didn't you just get him some help, Sean?
What, you don't think I tried?
Over and over.
While his mother was off puddle-jumping the Caribbean...
I was the only person he had.
Travis, it's me, it's Sean.
The only person who saw what \h was actually happening to him.
Come on, we got to get you out of here, okay, I'm gonna take you home.
Get off me, man.
Travis, you keep this up, you're going to die.
We're not kids anymore.
I even drove him to rehab myself, but the drugs were always there, always available to him, so I had no choice.
I went to the source.
Doug Govoli wasn't the source. He was just the delivery man.
He didn't even know what he was delivering.
Delivering packages to and from an abandoned factory in Hialeah?
(scoffs) Kids foaming at the mouth when they got his packages.
Oh, he knew; he just turned a blind eye.
That's when you got the job at the toy warehouse?
I followed the drugs.
That's where it started.
Sheila-- she was even worse.
Trafficking heroin to supplement her income, killing the same kids that she sold her toys to.
Sean, stop!
Please, don't do this! Please, don't do this!
Sean, stop!
(screams) I wasn't going to stand there and watch my friend die.
No one was going to do anything about it.
But that's what we do, Sean. We did something about it.
We stopped it.
What do you mean?
Are you familiar with the name Marcos Trejo, Sean?
Who's that?
Mr. Trejo was the man behind it all.
That's where the drugs started.
We just arrested him.
If I hadn't killed those people, then you wouldn't have found him.
Fair enough, but Sean, you're not the justice system, but now you will be the recipient of it.
Book him.
♪ ♪
Captioning sponsored by\h CBS C.S.I. PRODUCTIONS Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH\h access.wgbh.org