( meowing ) ( growling ) ( meowing ) ( hissing and growling )
Welcome to the Wild Kingdom. Vic's Ruth Elliot, 80 years old. Had at least 20 roommates, all of them feline. Animal Control's rounding them up now. Who alerted Homicide? Mail was piling up. Mailman looked in the window and called 911. Take a deep breath before you go inside.
Oh, God! Ugh! I didn't think anything could mask the smell of a decomp. Male cat urine. To us, smelly. To a female cat, it must be like aftershave. Me-ow.
David. You don't look so good. Allergic to cats. Oh, bummer.
Rigor mortis has passed. Lividity is fixed. Extensive marbling on her limbs. She's been dead three or four days, and I need a Benadryl. Excuse me.
Whoa.
She could have died of natural causes. Three or four days... pets could have been looking for their next meal. Sure. Meat is meat. ( meows, hisses ) Or maybe they turned on her.
Whoa. Look at this.
Flowing wound.
That's a deep wound track.
This woman was stabbed.
I guess the cats are off the hook. Captioning sponsored by PARAMOUNT PICTURES
Who... are you? Who, who, who, who? Who... are you? Who, who, who, who? I really wanna know Who... are you? Oh-oh-oh Who... Come on, tell me who are you, you, you Oh, you!
Floor's covered with trash. Lots of partials, mostly from Animal Control boots. But... I got something here. Distinctive heel and toe. What? High heel? Well... an old lady wears flats or slippers. And I can't imagine that this vic entertained. You got to be careful with isolation. It can escalate. Before you know it, you're the crazy cat lady living in the rundown house. People stop coming by to visit. You go outside, your neighbors run across the street to get away from you. Eventually, you stop going out altogether. Whoo, man! It reeks in here. Who lives like this? Cat lover. You think?
So, what do we know? Well, there's no signs of forced entry anywhere. Well, I can see why somebody would want to rob this place. I'll start in the bedroom.
No reaction. Knives are clean. Well, killer could have brought his own-- took it with him when he left. We might want to reconsider "burglary gone bad." I found a busted safe in the bedroom. Empty. I lifted prints. WILLOWS: A high-heeled thief who knew exactly what to look for, and killed the only obstacle in their path.
Welcome to a 4-45. Explosives. It's been a while. Fatalities? Just this $50,000 Beemer.
Marcie Tobin. Her car. And Marcus Remmick, mechanic and eyewitness. So, divide and conquer? Yeah. I'll take the rig. I'll take the grease monkey. I guess I got the driver. MARCIE: This just doesn't make any sense. I mean, why would somebody put a bomb in my car? SIDLE: Ms. Tobin? Hi. I'm with the Crime Lab. Mind if I ask you a few questions? Have you reached my husband? I'll check on it, ma'am. Thanks. Can you tell me what happened? I was on my way to my father's office. On Thursdays, we have dinner, and then I help him with his payroll. ( clanking ) Excuse me. We're closed. My car is making a really strange noise. Take it to the dealership in the morning. Lady's driving a brand-new Beemer. First service is 15,000 miles. Things don't go wrong. Yeah. But you checked it out anyway, huh? You know how women get. Go ahead, pop the hood.
( ticking ) Back away. Why? Run, run! Why? Run!
Ms. Tobin, where did you last park your car? In my house, in my garage. And who would have access? Just me... and my husband. But Johnny had nothing to do with this. He's been at work all day. You can ask him as soon as he gets here.
Anything probative? Check out this displacement.
Detritus blew backwards. Right into the driver.
( sighs ) That's intentional. Bombs are personal. So... assuming Mrs. Tobin was the intended target, the bomber knew what he was doing. Yeah. A hired hit on a housewife.
Glad I'm a dog person. You know, house cats have only been domesticated for 4,000 years. They still have predatory instincts. Only 4,000? Yeah. But a cat didn't kill her. You're right. No vital reactions around the bite marks. Predation is all postmortem. Cause of death, cardiac trauma. She was stabbed lateral to the sternal border, just below the fifth intercostal space, straight into the right ventricle. Muscle layers decrease with age. Fascia and tissue layers are easy to penetrate. Can't tell you much about the weapon, but the wound track is slick.
I swabbed the foreign substance, sent it to Greg. Anything else? Well, vic's lungs were full of fluid. Probably not relevant to your investigation, but the lab cultured her blood. She had a severe staph infection. ( phone rings ) Grissom.
We'll be right there. Homicide has a witness. Tell them what you told me.
Come on, Jessica. What did you see? Oh, the lady over there-- the one that died-- she was nice. GIRL: She had cats. Lots of them. Yep. My name's Catherine. What is your name again? Jessica Rachel Trent. I'm eight and a half. Oh, eight and a half. So I bet you're in the third grade? Yeah. My teacher's Mrs. Armstrong. She's really nice. Except I hate multiplication, especially the eights. You know, I have a daughter. She hates the eights, too. So, Jessica, can you tell me what you told your mom? I can. Jessica and I were playing handball against the garage door. We saw Mrs. Stein go into Mrs. Elliot's house, and they were yelling. When Mrs. Stein came out, she looked really angry. Kind of like when Mommy's boyfriend is late for dinner. She hates that.
GRISSOM: And, uh... who is Mrs. Stein? Mrs. Elliot's next-door neighbor. Ran a background check. The good neighbor filed three nuisance complaints against the victim.
Hey, are you girls sharing secrets? Can you share it with me?
All right.
Thank you. No problem.
I think that we're done here. Okay. Thanks for your help. Sure.
( sighs ) I'll get a warrant for Mrs. Stein's shoes. See if we can place her at the crime scene.
Don't you have a secret to share with me now? Oh, uh... Mrs. Stein? She hates cats.
Another spring. Do you know there's a dozen moving parts inside a ticking clock? I do now.
Hmm... Hello, sweetheart. End cap? Pipe bomb. End cap at both ends. Either one could have come in contact with the explosive inside the pipe. I'll swab it, see if Trace can identify it. I will see your end cap, and raise you a grommet. A grommet? Inside a pipe bomb? Not in the bomb, itself, but embedded in the end cap. The wires from the timing device enter the pipe through a hole in the grommet. When the timing device is activated, it sets off an electrical charge that detonates the explosives inside the pipe. Yet the grommet's fully intact. How did it survive the blast? I don't know, but they always do. And just when I thought you knew everything. BRASS: How's the puzzle? Hey. Pieces are small, but it's coming together. Well, I got a corner piece. The 4-1-1 on Marcie Tobin's husband? Junior foreman on Tobin C & D, Incorporated. The "C" stands for "Construction." The "D" is for "Demolition." MAN: I got to do my job, you got to do your job. So, if this stuff isn't taken down there, then we all lose. So, you just make sure that you get in touch with me... Jonathan Claddon? Yeah. I'm Nick Stokes. This is Sara Sidle. We're with the Vegas Crime Lab. We're here about your wife's car. Yeah. She told me you might stop by. Mr. Claddon, are you a demolitions expert? That's what we do. You must have seen our work on TV. We imploded most of the old Strip hotels. Do you personally know how to make a bomb? It's not hard. Anybody here could show you how. STOKES: So, I take that as a "yes"? If you're implying I had anything to do with all this... I love my wife. Not enough, apparently, to be there for her last night. Johnny, Reynolds needs help loading the truck. These folks are from the Crime Lab. They're here about Marcie. I'd like to talk to them. Alone. Well, let me know if I can help. Will do.
Barclay Tobin. This is my company. Any leads on my daughter's case? At this point, we're still asking questions. Can you tell us about your son-in-law? Well, I got him his first and only job when he married Marcie. STOKES: You, uh... you don't think too much of him, huh? Even less these days. Marcie says that he's cheating on her, but I don't think he has the stones. ( sighs ) But, after last night... Does Johnny have access to explosives? All my foremen have access to dynamite.
Mr. Tobin, do you fingerprint your employees? Sure do. It's standard for the industry. Just let me know what you need.
Before you ask, that swab of yours, from the end cap... Let's play "Name That Chemical Compound." Today's category: "Explosives." 30 seconds on the clock. Get... ( clears throat ) C-3... H-5... and three molecules of NO-3... nitroglycerin-- the explosive component of dynamite. Now, the other component for dynamite is either silica or sawdust. Your sample contains sawdust. Thanks, Greg. What did I win?
Hey. Hey. Wow. You look... Happy? Smug, actually. I got a perfect print off the end cap. Husband. Nice. I got the type of explosive used in the pipe bomb. Dynamite-- nitro and sawdust. The same kind used at Tobin C & D. ( chuckles ) Mm-hmm. You found the end cap? That's not easy. Hey, if I were you, I'd worry about my fingerprint. How did it get there? My father-in-law's company is the largest purchaser of end caps in Nevada. I log inventory. BRASS: Well, speaking of inventory, I checked the books. As you know, per the ATF, every stick of dynamite is catalogued. You logged-out a case of 24. When the demolition project was postponed, you returned the case... one stick short. It was stolen. Look, I'm the one who reported the theft. I kept the dynamite in my SUV, inside a storage magazine. So, you're telling us someone broke into your vehicle and stole a single stick of dynamite? Yes.
Tell us about your girlfriend.
Is that what Mr. Tobin told you?
Marcie's the best thing that ever happened to me. Plus, I've got an ulcer. Do you have any idea what an affair would do to me? I work my butt off for her old man. I barely have enough time to sleep, let alone Romeo some other girl. And the truth is, nothing I ever do is good enough. Tobin wouldn't even let Marcie take my name. Cry me a river, Johnny.
You're looking at the wrong guy. Then point us in the right direction.
Marcie handles the payroll, and she has a rep for shortchanging overtime. Talk about pissing people off. Any one of those guys could have put that bomb in her car. Why didn't you tell us this before? Because it's not her fault. She's just doing what her father tells her.
( knocking ) Debbie Stein? Yes. I'm here for your shoes.
Phew!
Eau de cat.
Eau de match.
She was a pig. Her house stunk. She didn't belong in the neighborhood. So, I guess it's safe to say you weren't friends?
Why were you in her house? I wanted to give her a chance to find homes for her cats before I called the Humane Society. To report her. By law, you can only own three. Well, a witness heard you scream at her. She was irrational. I was angry. This is disgusting. Nobody lives like this. You've got to get rid of them! These cats are my children, and no one's going to take them away from me! Then you clean up after them. I can smell your house from my kitchen. When, exactly, did you confront Mrs. Elliot? I don't know. Maybe... six days ago. Before my trip to L.A. I went to visit my sister. Look, if you have any other questions, I want a lawyer. You're free to go.
Well, she had an answer for everything. You know, according to Mark Twain, the most striking difference between a cat and a lie is that a cat only has nine lives. What are you saying? That she's lying? Unless her alibi checks out.
Bomber fastened the cap to the pipe, leaving behind tool marks. Check it out. What kind of tool leaves evenly-spaced vertical striations? A vice grip.
A vice grip? Yeah. Let's get a warrant for Johnny Claddon's home and for Tobin C & D.
Hey, guys.
WILLOWS: Hey. Talked with O'Riley. The neighbor's alibi does check out. She was at her sister's in L.A. during the time of the murder. Well, there goes our only suspect. Not so fast. I got another one. We have a match on that print that we found on the wall safe. Right. Yeah. He has a non-gaming work card. He's 45 years old. He was an electrician at the Tangiers from '97 to '99. His name is Tyler Elliot. That's the same last name as the vic. Victim's son. Only child. MAN: I wasn't skipping town. O'RILEY: That why you had a duffel bag in the back seat? I was going camping out at Red Rock. Then, suddenly, these cops pull me over. They take me into custody. My car's still up there. Your mother died, and you never claimed the body. How come? Funerals are expensive. I'm broke. O'RILEY: Records show he filed for bankruptcy last month. I figured, let the county pick up the tab. No one was going to show up anyway.
It's not like we were close. So, how often did you see her? Twice a month. Went over, made sure her bills got paid. Brought her medication. Stocked the fridge. All the stuff any good son's supposed to do. WILLOWS: Mr. Elliot, we found your mother's safe. It was busted open and your prints were all over it. ( scoffs ) Something funny? About a month ago, she called me up-- middle of the night-- hysterical. Her precious tabby was locked inside. She couldn't remember the combo.
I didn't steal her money. She didn't have any. The only thing she owned was the house. And she left that to some damn cat sanctuary.
And so... that's it?
I'm flat broke, and she gives her house to complete strangers. Can, uh... can somebody drive me back to my car if we're done? MARCIE: You know, since my car blew up, everybody is in my business. All of a sudden, everybody has something to say. You know, an opinion, a theory. My life is an open book. And my father wants me to hire a bodyguard. For what? To protect me from who? You know what I think? Someone put the bomb in the wrong car. I think they confused our house with somebody else's, because stranger things have happened. Marcie? Yeah. Sorry. Maybe we should talk alone. MARCIE: Uh, we don't have any secrets. Okay. Listen-- about your marriage-- your father said... Oh, my God. My father shouldn't have said anything. Your father ran his mouth about our personal life? Johnny, you know what? I, um... A couple of weeks ago, I thought that maybe Johnny was fooling around, just because he was never home... I was working. and never interested... Marcie, we talked about this. You know the pressure your father has me under. I know. I know. It's not fair. And you know what? You shouldn't put too much stock in this, because every couple has their problems. Marcie and I have had enough. That's it. Now, you have your warrant. Fine. But, please, no more questions. ( Marcie sighs ) Just take what you need.
Hey. You got a head start. Yeah. Didn't even have to wait for my warrant. I just rolled over to Tobin C & D and, before I could say "vice grip," the senior foreman gave me every grip in the house. Bad news, though. No matches. Ah! One more vice grip, compliments of the Tobin/Claddon household.
Aw... teeth aren't even the same size. No. And we're out of vice grips. We're out of luck. Let's unwrap the Beemer.
You know, when I was 16, I begged my mom for a car. Swore she'd come through. What happened? Encyclopedia Britannica. ( chuckling ) All 24 volumes. Still own them. Still use them.
Okay. Mechanic found the bomb next to the engine mount-- closest point to the driver. Bomb was on a delay. Clock with a ticking second hand, and a nail driven into "12." That means the bomb was triggered 60 seconds before detonation-- one rotation of the second hand. Question is, what started the clock?
Something Marcie Tobin touched inside the car?
Ignition, door locks, window, radio, A/C... turning signals, hazard lights... Yeah, but we're only dealing with a 60-second time frame. Okay, she pulls into the lot, she gets out of the car, and she asks for help. Mechanic offers to take a look. So, she pops the hood for him.
Hood release.
Whoa. The latch has been blown apart. Which means the hood was down when the bomb was detonated.
How is that possible? The mechanic saw the bomb. X-ray vision? Okay, maybe he took one look at it, and he slammed the hood. Sara, if you found a bomb in your car would you close the hood? No, I would back away fast. Um... maybe the hood dropped? No way. BMW has built-in hood shocks. Liar, liar, car on fire.
I could have been a rock star. There's still time, Greg.
Tell us about the foreign substance we found in the vic's wound track. Uh... well, I like to rub it all over a lady's body. Even better... I, uh... like it when she rubs it all over me. And it's also used as a stool softener. It's also the only open lead in our case. Spit it out, Greg. Mineral oil. GRISSOM: Possibly used as a preservative to prevent rusting of high-carbon steel. Like the blades of knives. Old knives. New ones are made from stainless steel. I'm like a sponge. I just absorb information. I thought that was my line. Yeah, and I absorbed it. Okay, so... ( clears throat ) knives, screwdriver, ice pick, letter opener. We're looking for a weapon with a splash of mineral oil. I'll grab the A.L.S.
An A.L.S. for mineral oil? Mineral oil fluoresces at 525 nanometers when filtered through a KV590. A little more absorbing, a little less rock 'n' roll.
Now what?
I thought Animal Control rounded up all the cats. Where you going? Following the evidence.
...three and four and... ( meows ) Wait. Rascal. Hi. ( Rascal meows ) How'd you get out? Hi, girls. Say hi, Rascal. WILLOWS: Hi, Rascal.
Excuse me, uh... may I hold your cat? No. He doesn't like you.
Girls, dinner. Can't she see we're playing? Just ignore her. MRS. TRENT: Girls. I see you've met Rascal. Mrs. Trent, I noticed this cat has a sore on its leg. I'd be happy to swab it for you. Might need medical attention. No. I don't think that that's really necessary. It's just a cut; it'll heal. But, I mean, for your daughter's sake, wouldn't you rather be safe than sorry? I think it's time to go inside. Uh... Jessica... I-I think he might have a point.
I want her to do it.
Okay. Rascal.
( Rascal meows ) All righty. Thank you.
MRS. TRENT: Okay, girls, go wash up.
Come on. Kids these days, they just don't listen. Two against one.
Thank you. See you later.
One thing about my mother-- even though she was deaf, she was always the boss. Huh. Well... single mom... juggling a job, a boyfriend. It's just easier to say yes than no. And then, eventually, they just stop asking for permission. You want to tell me why I swabbed their cat? That cat has an open sore and a missing patch of fur-- both indicative of possible staph infection. And we know that our victim had a staph infection. Staphylococcus bacteria can jump the species barrier-- be passed from human to animal. I wasn't thinking; I was reacting, you know? No harm, no foul. STOKES: No prints. Come again? Well, if you were pawing all over the hood then your prints should be on it. And they're not. I wear gloves. You're not wearing them now. I wear them most of the time. Mind if we take a look around the garage? Knock yourselves out.
Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Mechanics use vice grips?
You got any clay? No. Well... we can't just take the tool without a warrant.
But... we can improvise. Trash is trash. Cheese. Nice.
I'll compare this with our case toolmark.
You guys having fun? A blast. Hey, man... These yours? Don't use vice grips-- pipe wrench has a better feel. Must belong to one of my mechanics. Prints. Boy, you just have an answer for everything, don't you? Yeah, I guess I do.
Striae are identical. Auto Body vice grip was definitely used to tighten the end cap. Mechanic's prints on file? Marcus Remmick. Arrested for fraud in 1994. He was selling used parts as new. Prints are in AFIS, but they don't match the vice grip. And, in fact, AFIS drew a blank. Hmm. Then what are you running? I'm running a Tobin C & D database. Shot in the dark. ( beeps )
( beeping ) Even a shot in the dark hits sometimes. MARCIE: Why would I put a bomb in my car? SIDLE: Not only did you put a bomb in your car-- you made it yourself. Why would I do that? BRASS: The business registration shows that you own 25% of your father's company. So Nevada's a community property state-- you divorce Johnny, he becomes part-owner of Tobin Construction. That wouldn't sit too well with Dad, would it? SIDLE: But if Johnny goes down for attempted murder, he goes to jail and you get to keep everything, because a criminal can't benefit from his own malfeasance. This is absurd. And, for your information, your mechanic friend lawyered up. Guys with records roll fast. He's not my friend. STOKES: Really? Because we found your prints on a tool at the body shop. It was the same tool we know was used to make the pipe bomb.
( quietly ): Sit down.
SIDLE: You and Marcus tag-teamed us. You never popped the hood; he never shut it-- it was latched. Fortunately for you, you only worked Thursday nights, because your little plan took a lot of extra time and effort, hmm? You snagged a stick of dynamite out of Johnny's SUV, took an end cap out of inventory, knowing we'd trace it back to Johnny if we found it. And then, at the body shop, you put it all together.
So what if I made a bomb? That's not a crime. Really? You sure about that?
Ready. MARCIE: 60 seconds.
BRASS: You used to own a '92 Volvo. I ran your credit card. You owe $20,000 in auto repairs. Your dad kicked in $30,000. I ran his credit card, too. That's 50 g's for a leaky transmission. STOKES: You needed Marcus' help to wire the bomb and substantiate your story. So the two of you paid him $50,000 for services rendered. Look, I'm fine, and my husband is fine, and it was my car that exploded, so does this... really need to go any further? BRASS: Ma'am, you and your father conspired to frame your husband for attempted murder. STOKES: So you're both looking at, what, uh... 20-plus.
Oh, and Johnny's getting a promotion.
Girl's cat... positive for staphylococcus. You know, I spoke with Janet Trent. She and her daughters are all healthy. Could their cat have been infected by Mrs. Elliot? Could Rascal have been her cat at one time?
What, and she... gave it to the girls? No. So if it was hers, and she... didn't give it away... Maybe someone in the Trent house adopted it.
We know that Mrs. Elliot was killed by this pen. Can one of you tell me what happened?
Girls, do you understand what Ms. Willows is asking you?
I'll tell. No. You promised. WILLOWS: Jessica, in this room, the only promise you make is to tell the truth. She didn't mean to do it. I'm sure she didn't. Who?
Mommy.
What did your mother do? Mrs. Elliot should have just given us the cat. He's always at our house. Rascal likes it there. I don't give them away. Look, then I'll pay you for him. I'm sorry. Every child should have a cat, but these are mine. Just give me... Oh! Girls, take the cat and run. Go! Go! ELLIOT ( crying ): No! Please... no! So then we ran, and that's when we heard the old lady scream.
Jackie?
Girls, do you... know about fingerprints?
When you... touch something-- like this floaty pen, for instance-- you leave behind an invisible mark that's special-- that's yours. I have a way to... see these invisible marks.
And we found these fingerprints on the pen.
And they don't belong to an adult.
They're not mine.
Tattletales burn in hell.
The old lady should have just given me the cat. I lied before. She wasn't nice. She was mean. My mom said we can keep him. Please? These are my babies. I don't give them away. But you have so many. We don't have even one. I'm sorry.
Run, Jackie!
I'll tell your mother! You won't!
Did you know? I told the girls that they could have a cat if Mrs. Elliot gave them one. I knew she never would. That's why I made the promise. JESSICA: No, I need Mommy. ( crying ): Mommy. I want my mommy! No! Jessica! Please... Mommy... Captioning sponsored by PARAMOUNT PICTURES