Go ahead. ( car alarm chirps ) Turn around.
Go ahead. Next.
Turn around.
( beeping ) My kitty's pierced.
Want to see?
DJ: Party people, brothers and sisters... angels and devils... virgins and sinners, let the foam take you away to your deepest desires. Cleanse yourself. There's no turning back now.
Ever been to a foam party? What do you think? Things can get pretty wild. Evidently. You got an I.D. on this guy? Yeah, the deceased is Trey Buchman. Age 21. I got a Vegas I.D. Eyewitnesses? Uh, too much foam. The party was over. Most of the responsible young adults had split. It's amazing how the sight of blood can clear a room. Yeah. I'll tell you what we got. My guys are talking with the girl who found the body, but even sober, she's not gonna be much help. Wonder what made this wound? Looks like a puncture. Ice pick, maybe?
Well, wow, tell you it's not for the money. I got about three grand here, all in C-notes. Proves the old adage. Which adage is that? You can't take it with you. ♪ ♪
♪ 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! ♪
BROWN: Foam at the Sinner's Den. I hung out here a few times. Never been. Your knucklehead boyfriend never took you on the party circuit? Uh, pass. That's cool about Vegas. It's Monday: Rain at the Palms, Tuesday: EDEN at Studio 54, Wednesday: RAW at the Luxor, Thursday's Baby's, Fridays... Hey, look. Some kid dropped dead. It's a shame. Kids OD all the time in nightclubs. They're big boys and girls. This ain't church. I understand that. Yeah, you understand. I understand that. Yeah, you understand. I-I mean, you know the kind of rent I pay on a joint like this? Rain or shine, I owe the landlord $50,000. You're breaking my heart, pal. Look, here's how this works. The more you cooperate, the sooner you'll be up and running. You don't get it. No, I get it. I got a daughter who's 20, she hangs out. I don't want her to die at a place like this, so do me a favor, get me the VIP list for tonight. And smarten up.
There's seminal fluid all over the place. Is this a dance club or a sex club? It's a little of both. Don't you love this town? Whatever you say, Superfly.
( sniffing ) You guys smell that? Mm-hmm. Smells like strawberries. It's the foam.
Reminds me of the Mirage. Steve Wynn didn't like the smell of the volcano erupting, so he changed the fuel mixture. Now it smells like a piña colada.
Hey. BRASS: I got a line on our vic. Trey Buchman, booked a room at the Sphere. E-Wing, room 937.
These people are freaks.
Got a long dark hair.
Vic had short hair.
One of our freaks wears pussycat pink. WOMAN: The battle was fierce. The evil sorceress had powerful magic, but the prince was brave and true.
( clears throat ) WOMAN: Finally, the brave prince slew the dragon... ...and went to awaken his beloved princess. You're late, Eddie. Don't start. He climbed the many stairs to the top... You just know how much this meant to Lindsey? Can we argue about this later, okay?
WOMAN: Her eyes would open with true love's kiss. Hey, she's so beautiful. ( grunts ) WOMAN: The evil spell was finally broken. Nice perfume. ( sighs ) My... Okay. My... Okay. Fine.
Is this okay? WOMAN: My prince... ( loud clanking ) Excuse me. WOMAN: My prince... at long last, you have come for me. My... M-My prince... WOMAN: At long last, you have come for me.
( audience murmuring ) I'm sorry, baby. You did good, though. Yeah, you were fine, Linds. Good. Hey, and you know what? It's just a play. No, it's not just a play. I was Sleeping Beauty, and you guys ruined it. I'm sorry, honey. I'll bet if you ask Mrs. Parker, she'd let you keep that blue dress. I want to go home. Okay. Let's go home. No, Mom. I want to go with Dad.
You sure about that?
Okay.
Tox report on your foam guy came back negative.
Negative? No drugs, no alcohol, no medication, not even an aspirin. That's odd. It was a den of iniquity.
What about the neck wound? The sternocleidomastoid What about the neck wound? The sternocleidomastoid muscle and the jugular vein were lacerated.
The wound was a bloody mess, probably lethal. Any idea what caused it? Hard to say. Definitely an odd entry wound. Not a knife or sharp object. Probably something blunt, like a pen or a stake of some sort. Anything else? Check this out.
Looks like a bite. Spider bite or allergic reaction, maybe? Stand by. I'll process the tissue in histopath, see if it's worth writing home about.
I was wondering where I put my nice silver satin thong. Gloves.
Okay, we're looking for any kind of blunt object that could've been used to stab our victim in the neck.
Glow stick.
Ball-point pen.
Cell phone antenna.
You have the Luminol?
Thank you.
Nothing.
Are we sure it was a blunt object?
Size ten, double A. Stilettos, huh? Brings out the toes, accentuates the legs. Murder on the ankles, though.
Looks like murder to me.
( car alarm blaring ) WOMAN: Sinner's Den, SRO-- I'm on every club's VIP list. Well, you got lucky. You're on my list now. I don't want to be on your list. Here, hold this. ( scoffs ) Nice shoes. Thank you.
GRISSOM: Okay, this is the story. One of you lovely Cinderellas is missing a glass slipper, and I'm playing the prince. So would each of you remove your right shoe, please?
Almost.
No.
Well, if the shoe fits... Wear it.
( thunder rumbling ) Comfortable? So far. Thanks for asking. Do you want to tell me how your shoe ended up in Trey Buchman's neck?
I don't know. Last I remember, the foam was rising... ...and my heel went into something... soft.
Thought it was someone's foot. Jugular. There's a slight difference.
Do you want to tell me why you left your shoe behind? Heel broke. And the fact it had blood on it, that wasn't the reason? Never saw blood. I see. I did some checking-- because that's what I do-- and you and our victim had a relationship a while back.
I've "relationshipped" about a dozen guys on the circuit, including Trey. Nothing ends-- we still all meet up at the club. I see.
And the way he gave it to me, believe me... ...he's the last guy I'd want dead. ( clears throat ) Excuse me, Jim. Am I interrupting something? Gil, please.
Miss... ( donning rubber gloves ) I'm gonna need a sample of your DNA. How do you want it? I like your hair. I like yours. Are you a, uh, natural blonde?
Ow. Sorry. I needed a follicular tag. ( envelope rustles ) Thank you.
Gil? Any chance you found my thong? Silver lamé, probably twisted in knots. Oh, yeah, we did. You'll need to fill out a form, though. The captain will help you, surely.
♪ ♪
( opera playing over headphones ) ( telephone ringing )
Hey, Gil? ( opera music continues playing ) Carmen?
( music playing loudly ) Right after the murder. Opera makes it all seem so lovely.
And at the risk of sounding like your mother, you're gonna ruin your eardrums. ( turns music off ) Our victim's tissue-- Trey Buchman. The, uh, circular contusions I sectioned, indicate damage extending only 30 microns below the epidermis. So, it's not a bug bite. Man-made, high-pressure, subcutaneous injector.
No needle? Simply high pressure penetrating the skin.
Did you send a sample to tox? Our victim was injected with insulin. Diabetic? Nope. So, cause of death was insulin shock. Insulin doesn't make for a narcotic or hallucinogenic high, so I don't know why Buchman would take the stuff. STOKES: Downstairs neighbor smelled it. Called the plumber. Yeah, they always think it's a sewage problem. ( cell phone ringing ) Phew! ( cell phone ringing ) Phew! ( cell phone beeps ) Eddie? Ed? Hello? Uh... bad connection, Ed. Uh, I just entered a scene. I-I'll call you later. Whew. No pain, no gain. Purge fluid. D.U.N.S.
Dead Upstairs Neighbor Syndrome. Mm-hmm. Yeah, well, it's gonna take us a while to get this smell out of our nose hairs. Parchment changes of the skin. So, what's the exposure to that window, south? Uh, east. Gets direct sunlight half the day. I learned that down in Lauderdale. You know, you got to remember to turn. Right, all that spring break activity with your frat brothers. Well, something like that. Nice little cocaine fingernail. So... no mail built up. I don't see a telephone. ( indistinct radio chatter ) I don't see a telephone. ( indistinct radio chatter ) What do you think? ( cell phone ringing ) Howard Hughes in a studio apartment? ( cell phone beeps ) Eddie? ( cell phone beeps ) Eddie? ( static over cell phone ) Ed? Now what's his deal? Lindsey's with him. Maybe she's ready to come home. Yeah, I bet.
How you doing? Cash and a very busy passport.
Designer threads. Ten-to-one, Croix Richards is a drug dealer. And that is no workout accident.
( cell phone rings ) ( cell phone beeps ) Eddie? ( static over cell phone ) Eddie, you got to get to a land line. This connection sucks. LINDSEY: Mommy... ( static ) Lindsey? H-Honey, I-I can't hear you. LINDSEY: Mommy... scared... all alone. ( crying ) You're alone? Honey, where's Daddy? LINDSEY: Daddy... ( static ) Do you want me to just...? Uh... Thanks. Yeah, uh, yeah, honey. Yes, yes, I'm coming. LINDSEY: Mommy, please! I'm scared... all alone! We were in the car, going fast. We hit something. It's gonna be okay, honey. I'm on my way. I just need to know where you are. I don't know. There's lots of water. Are you near a lake? Are you, are you near Grandma's house? No, the water's in the car. In the car? Lindsey, can you get out? No. It's gonna be okay, honey. Just listen to me. Before the car crashed, where were you going? Daddy said the hospital. On the way there, did you see any hotels? I s-- I saw the castle. Excalibur. Did you see, did you see the pyramid? Yeah. Industrial Road? Is that, is that it? Lindsey, is it Industrial Road? There was a bridge. We went through a fence. ( static ) Lindsey? Damn it! ( cell phone beeps ) Damn it! ( cell phone beeps )
Lindsey? Lindsey! Lindsey! Help me! Mommy! Lindsey! Help me! Mommy! Hang on, honey!
( panting ) Mommy!
Mommy! I'm here, honey. Mommy! I'm here, honey. Mommy! I'm gonna get you out. Hang on.
Okay. Listen. I have to break the window, okay? You got to move to the front. Mommy, I can't! I'm scared. Okay, I'm gonna come around, okay? I'm coming around. Wait, Mommy.
I'm here, Lindsey!
I'm gonna go down. No, no, no! I'm going to go down. No, no, no! I'm going to go down.
( gasping, coughing ) You all right? You okay? Mommy. Yes? I got you. Hold on.
( indistinct radio chatter ) LINDSEY: The lady who was driving had pink hair. I don't remember her name. VEGA: But Lindsey, it was your father's car. Why wasn't he driving it? He had a stomachache. ( groaning ) Hang on. Just hang on. We'll get you to the hospital. I can't make it. Wait! Hey! ( tires screeching ) The lady got out, and then Daddy fell out. He didn't come back. Catherine?
Is Eddie the kind of guy that would leave his daughter abandoned in the back of a car? Never, never, never, no. He loves Lindsey. He'd never do that. Not willingly. ( hydraulic lift whirring ) Be very gentle with this car, guys. Mom?
He's dead, isn't he?
I-I don't know, baby. I... I'm gonna go look for him, though. I'm just gonna be right over there. Okay, that's enough.
I want you to stay here with Detective Vega. Okay?
How you doing?
♪ ♪
Drugs. Knowing Eddie's taste in women, I'd say that's a good bet. Hey, Catherine, you want to give me that?
You shouldn't be handling evidence. You're not on the case.
Stop it right there.
STOKES: Hey, Doc. Hey.
Thought I'd come get an update on... Stinky here. Whew. Wow, that's horrible. I'm generally immune to the stench of a decomp, but, uh, two weeks of decay still tickles the vibrassae of my nasal vestibule. Yeah, I'll say. Hey, what's the foreign body lodged in his femur? Crank up the milliamps. lodged in his femur? Crank up the milliamps.
Whiter than bone. Dense like a metal. What exactly are we looking at? Let's find out.
Whew!
I feel like Androcles pulling the thorn from the lion's paw. Looks like the tip of a needle. It probably broke off when it hit the bone.
BRASS: I've started to see into the future. Thanks to credit card reports, I see that our phone victim booked a room at the Tangiers for tonight. He was staying at the Sphere. Two hotel rooms in one night. He was a busy boy.
Hello. ( chuckles ) Hello. You're late. Not-not that I mind. There's two of you? We work as a team.
What's in the kit? Latex gloves, cotton swabs, specimen jars, other evidence-gathering stuff. Wait a minute. Uh, what's going on here? You tell us.
Oh, my God. You guys are cops.
I'm, um... I'm really embarrassed. ( chuckles ) I've never done anything like this before, I swear. This room is registered to Trey Buchman. Who are you? Do we have to do names? Uh-huh. Rebecca McCormick. Look, I got a number from a guy who was giving out these cards on the Strip. I thought it would be fun. ( laughs ) I-I don't know what I was thinking. Am I under arrest? Not yet. ( beeping and whirring )
Hey. Cracked my D.B.'s laptop. Got his appointment book.
Women's names. Hotels. Blocks of time. You know, Croix had this sweet apartment and this wad of cash. We thought he was selling drugs. He was selling himself. Gigolo. Paid to get laid. So was mine. Two victims, same profession. Ooh. What about the needle you found in the decomp? The micrometer pegged it as a 30-gauge.
Insulin dependents use needles that thin. Well, the decomp's too severe. We'll never get anything out of tox or the needle. I think we're working the same case.
Well, good thing my gigolo was organized. He used accounting software to keep track of his finances. Employment history?
( clears throat ) ( doorbell rings ) ( man screams in distance ) Mr. Grissom, Captain Brass, so nice to see you again. Good to hear things haven't changed around here. ( screaming continues ) I see you haven't changed, either. Trey Buchman, Croix Richards. They're both on my payroll. Hard workers, quite skilled. They're deceased. They'll be missed. Last year, you lost Mona Taylor. Now, two more employees. It's a risky business. Accusation? It's an observation. BRASS: These guys traded in sex, and, uh, I know you don't allow intercourse in your domain. Now, that is an accusation. I profit from the theatrics of pleasure, allowing people to play out their fantasies. Trey and Croix were independent contractors. GRISSOM: Lady Heather, what services did they provide?
WOMAN: Bad little pig boy. Bad, bad, bad. You sloppy, naughty, bad piggy. Oink, oink. ♪ Like an animal ♪ ♪ My whole existence is flawed ♪ ♪ You get me closer to God ♪ MAN ( over computer ): You've been a bad, bad girl. You're right. I deserve to be punished. WOMAN: Sit up straight. Yes. WOMAN: Sit up straight. Like this? Yes. HEATHER: Here it comes. I'm sorry. ( gasps ) Very, very bad. I'm sorry. ( man shouts in distance ) My dominion is also my domain. Ladyheather.com. So, Buchman and Richards were down here doing Internet porn? Not porn. Voyeurism in a brave new world. What would Aldous Huxley say? Well, if his credit card were valid, he could say anything he wanted at $3.95 a minute. Do you like my lipstick? MAN ( over computer ): Tighter. WOMAN: Say no, say no. MAN: No! Why? You've been staring at my lips. You have lovely lips. MAN: Like that, just like that. And a very successful business. Thanks. Thanks for your time. ( woman moaning ) WOMAN: Bad, bad. ( woman moaning ) WOMAN: Bad, bad. ( clears throat ) MAN: Yes, mommy. See you soon.
VEGA: So, after your recital, where did your dad take you? Leatherbey's. He got me a banana split. I like whipped cream... Did he have anything to drink? Did he have a beer, a glass of wine? Just water.
So, it was just the two of you?
VEGA: This lady you told us about-- the one who was driving, the one with the pink hair-- where did you meet her? I don't know. You remember, Lindsey. Just think about it.
I fell asleep in the car, and I woke up when we stopped. Was this at a house? No. It was a building. SIDLE: Was it an apartment building, maybe, or maybe an office building? I don't know. Why did you stop there?
Daddy said he had a meeting. He told me to stay in the car and keep the doors locked. You mean he left you in the car alone. Catherine... You mean he left you in the car alone. Catherine... Mom, Mom, it's okay. I said I could take care of myself. I told him I could stay in the car. Just don't be mad at him. He didn't do anything wrong. It's okay, Lindsey. Nobody's mad at anybody.
Can I talk to you for a second?
( sighs ) It's okay.
VEGA: This lady was at the building? She was outside in the parking lot. Eddie. Candeece! Baby! Where were you? What's the matter, honey? Sugar, what's the matter with you? Oh! This lady with the pink hair... was she your father's girlfriend?
I called you a million times! What are you talking about? Why didn't you answer your phone? Maybe. Well, he was mad at her. And-and then th-they were running back to the car. Daddy was holding his stomach.
( groaning ) Daddy, what's wrong? It's just a stomachache, honey. I'll be fine.
( phone ringing ) Willows. Yeah.
Catherine, you can't say good-bye in an autopsy room.
Hi, uh... Croix Richards and Trey Buchman. Same profession, same employer, same cause of death. Yeah. Insulin poisoning. Not your typical male MO. Lady Heather a suspect? I can't rule anybody out. Catherine... ( sighs ) I'm sorry about Eddie and your daughter. Uh, if... if you'd like to take some time off or... I'm okay. Lindsey's... We're okay.
STOKES: Hey, Catherine. BROWN: Hey. We heard about what happened. I'm so sorry. Yeah, if you or Lindsey I'm so sorry. Yeah, if you or Lindsey need anything at all... Thanks, you guys. Yeah. Thanks, you guys. Yeah. Why don't you catch us up. Yeah. Credit card transactions for Lady Heather's website. Both our victims worked in the chat room. We cross-referenced their clients. They're all ladies. And looks like both victims They're all ladies. And looks like both victims died approximately four weeks apart. BROWN: Killers usually don't stray too far from home. Especially for repeat crimes. Yeah, I'm squeezing the Las Vegas search area.
Got a vial full of blue boogers. GHB with food coloring. That's a date rape drug. Not anymore. You mix it with the right stimulant, like meth, you got a great party drug. SIDLE: Everyone's a chemist. Thanks.
GRISSOM: You know, we found a dark hair in Trey Buchman's hotel room at the Sphere.
I'll exclude everyone with light hair.
Whoa. Stop. Huh. Rebecca McCormick. 235 Desert Ranch Road. First time, my ass.
Hi. Sorry to keep you waiting. So, what can I do to help out the Las Vegas Crime Lab? You could tell us about your relationship with Croix Richards. Well, uh, I hired Croix Richards to dominate Rebecca.
Would you like a chocolate? Uh, they're Godiva. WILLOWS: No, thanks. I guess you could say that, uh, Mr. Richards worked for me. We were hoping that he might help ease some of Rebecca's sexual difficulties. WILLOWS: Extra-marital sex to help your relationship problems?
The problem wasn't with our relationship, it was with my wife's lack of experience. GRISSOM: Which Mr. Richards helped you with?
Yes. First over the Internet, and then we, uh, we met with him a few times. We? Yeah, yes. ( chuckles ) I participated in the sessions, yes.
Do you take this man to be your wedded husband? Love, honor, and obey. Say it! Love, honor, and obey. Say it!
And these sessions were held at Lady Heather's? Yes. Lady Heather thought it would be best if I was involved. I'm sure secrets would've made the problem worse, at that point. Mm.
Mrs. McCormick, did you meet Trey Buchman at Lady Heather's? Oh, I'm sorry, who? GRISSOM: He worked for Lady Heather as well. He's also dead. Oh, uh... I don't know who Trey Buchman is. Your wife does. Oh. I met Trey on Lady Heather's website. Our encounters were only online. Like this? Is this okay? No, it's not okay! Don't want to listen, you stupid bitch? GRISSOM: And the night you and I met at the Tangiers?
Croix was fun. Uh, I wanted more experience, variation. I made a date with Trey. He never showed up.
Well, Mrs. McCormick, I'd like to get a sample of your hair and DNA for comparison. Rebecca will give you anything that you need.
( dogs barking in distance ) ( bowl clanks )
♪ ♪
Yeah, I can put you in touch with her manager, Eddie Willows. Guy owes me a call. Make that five calls. If you talk to him, tell him he-he's got, like, eight hours of studio fees due. The penalties are running, okay? We've already seen him. He's in the morgue. Oh, that makes sense why he wasn't here last night. High-strung singer, no manager, that's always trouble. ♪ A trail of tears ♪ ♪ It takes me back ♪ ♪ To all my fears... ♪ I hate this! This sucks! Okay? Where's Eddie? I need Eddie here. Get back in the booth. Where are you? I need you here now. I cannot do this without help. Can I have a little privacy, please? Would you go in there and learn how to do your job? It sounds terrible in there, anyways. She started ragging on me. I didn't need the hot air, so I came back in. That's a cut, Enrique.
Let's take it from the bridge. Eddie was just in it for the quick score. You know, cut a demo, sell a contract, get a ride on the charts and you just ride that wave. This girl was different. Yeah, he was banging her. Yeah, but he had something for her, knowing how much potential she had. I never seen Eddie so dedicated. Nothing was gonna stop him from making her a star. Except maybe a .22 round in his gut. Stop, stop, stop. That's a cut, Enrique. Whoa, whoa, man. It sounds good from where I'm standing. What's up? Problem isn't the vocals, man, it's the extra bass line I keep getting from the Village People outside with that damn jackhammer. All right, Enrique, let's pick it up from the second chorus. Aren't recording studios supposed to be soundproof? Lady, if the guy standing next to you is Clive Davis, instead of a cop, it would be. After Candeece left, did you guys keep recording? Um, yeah, a few more hours. We were redoing a drum track.
We're gonna need to take a look at those tapes. BROWN: Okay, the hair on the left is from Trey Buchman's room at the Sphere hotel. The hair on the right is a sample we took from Rebecca McCormick. Cuticles on both are shiny and smooth. Telltale signs the hair has been treated. Cortex isn't letting any light through. It lets us know the hair's been colored. The medullas are continuous. I can't be definitive without DNA, but, uh, both hairs are consistent. They look like Rebecca McCormick's.
WILLOWS: So she lied to you guys at the hotel, she lied to us at the house. She's been with him, not just online. But her husband only knew about the guy he hired, Croix Richards. He had no idea that she hired Trey Buchman.
Steven McCormick wanted his wife to have a session. It's not uncommon. When a client achieves liberation, they often want their spouse to share that feeling. Though, in this particular instance, I advised the husband to pursue avenues more suited to the temperament of his marriage. Well, I guess you couldn't say no. I learned that Mr. McCormick is an investor in your Internet site. That's a matter of public record. Did he ever tell you, specifically, what his wife's problem was? The fault lay not in his wife, but in himself. Steven believed his wife was repressed, but once she opened up... A Pandora's Box? All the evils of their marriage unleashed?
May I? You may. Thank you, Lady Heather. You may. Thank you, Lady Heather.
Steven came to me three years ago in a state of confusion. I helped him clarify his need for dominance. You will control her only as well as you can read her.
Now read.
( grunts ) Our work enabled him to marry.
But he chose a woman who didn't understand the dynamics of a dominant-submissive relationship. Unfortunately, the language we speak in here doesn't necessarily translate to the world out there. No, in here, the submissive has the power. All he has to do is say the safety word, and everything stops.
Very good, Mr. Grissom.
I'm just repeating what I've heard. You're a good listener. Part of the job.
So, this is work? Yes. But I value your insight. I'm flattered. But you already seem to know the answers to your questions.
You keep me in proximity when I walk away, and when I'm close, you watch my lips.
Are you losing your hearing?
I'm losing my balance. Your sense of self? No. I know who I am. Do you? Yes, I do.
You can always say stop.
So can you.
Eddie's my manager, and it's no big secret. We were supposed to be working last night, and the jerk blew me off. VEGA: So, you never saw him last night? No. What happened to your wrist?
Oh, uh... I got, uh... um... Because, uh, according to Desert Palms Emergency Room, you came in last night with a fracture of the ulna. It's a common injury in car accidents-- air bag specific.
SIDLE ( over speaker ): Air bags are packed with cornstarch or talc. It helps them deploy. It also wreaks havoc on the eyes. We know you saw Eddie last night. We know that you were driving his car. It all happened so fast, you know? One minute I was, I was just outside getting some air and thinking, you know? And-and then... the next, my manager is stumbling towards me, bleeding.
Candeece, baby, I'm shot! Eddie! Oh, my God! Candeece, baby, I'm shot! Eddie! Oh, my God! ( gasping ) I'll get you to the car. Everything's gonna be okay, honey. Okay, don't be afraid. Sounds pretty heroic. Not really. When you're intimate with somebody, you can't imagine life without them.
We were partners.
I loved him. I thought I was gonna die. There were two other people in the car.
That's what I meant, you know? I thought we were all gonna die. Search and Rescue found Eddie's body 100 yards downstream. See, that's where it gets a little less heroic. We found Lindsey alone in a sinking car. I tried to get Eddie out. He was unconscious, and that... that kid kept screaming. ( stammers ) The current was really strong, and we got swept downstream. What was I supposed to do? Get to a phone, call the cops, call an ambulance, anything, actually, other than what you did. I'm just one person. Eddie is my priority, not that... that... stupid, screaming little brat.
I tried, I... You even think about my daughter again, I'll kill you. I will kill you. I will hunt you down and put you in the ground. Catherine. I will hunt you down and put you in the ground. Catherine. I will put you in the ground. Catherine. You saw that. She threatened me. I want a lawyer. What the hell are you doing? ( panting ) Do you know where you're at right now? I've been here a lot longer than you. And you should know better. And I wouldn't have to be here if you were doing your job properly. There is a difference between me doing my job, and you wanting to do it for me. You don't want to get the job done. What you want, right now, is revenge. You're gonna tell me what I want, huh? Go home, Catherine. Be with your daughter. She's the one that needs you.
GRISSOM: What did you consider this? A little civility before work, I think? Or a ritual to put us at ease. Or how about "In custom and ceremony, are innocence and beauty born." Yeats. "Prayer for My Daughter." Or our morning. Cream? Please.
Thank you. Sugar? I'm diabetic.
Type One? Mm-hmm. Injections. Used to mean injections. I changed to a pressure syringe.
Recently? Mm, a few weeks ago. Oh, it's a fascinating instrument. Would you like to see it?
Yes, I would. ( blowing ) But I'm afraid I'll need a warrant.
Excuse me.
( cell phone dialing ) It's Grissom. I need you to write paper on Lady Heather's medical paraphernalia-- specifically, an insulin kit and syringes.
I'm already there. I'll wait.
I think I just heard you say "stop."
BRASS: You lied to us, Mrs. McCormick. You said you only engaged in on-line sex with Trey Buchman. Your hair has a similar morphology to the hair that we found in Mr. Buchman's hotel suite. Well, "similar" doesn't mean me. No, but the DNA we also recovered from under the sheets does mean you. BRASS: Sounds like a physical encounter to me.
So, since I pay for sex, I must also be a murderer? No, it's just that everybody you pay for sex ends up dead. I don't like you.
Well, I guess I'll have to live with that. Here's something else you might not like.
Two months ago, your bank records show cash withdrawals totaling $50,000. BROWN: Same amount that we found in Croix Richards' apartment. Croix wasn't even half that good. Of course, that's still better than my husband.
You used to work for Latona Pharmaceuticals, right? Years ago. You sold synthetic insulin.
All right. ( chuckles ) We've had our fun, but I'm stopping it now. Any other questions you have can be directed to my lawyer.
Well, modern recording's all digital, so each track's recorded in a separate data file. By looking at the file modification times, we can approximate which tracks were recorded near the time of the shooting. Catherine left Eddie at 5:30 p.m. Lindsey's first call was logged at 10:55.
Let's see, well... only two tracks were laid down during that time interval. "7:41: acoustic guitar. 10:38: drum kit." Let's look at the drum track. ( medium-tempo drumbeat playing ) There's the kit drum. So, any irregularity in the pattern could be from an outside source. Yeah. Right here. A sudden change in amplitude. Can you isolate it? Yeah.
( distant bang amid drumming ) It sounds like gunfire. I'll play that again.
( distant bang amid drumming ) Let me take out the drums.
( gunshot ) ( faint whirring ) What is that?
Feels like an engine. V-twin, maybe a Harley. Must've been somebody else there. Think we got a witness? Or a suspect. Hey. I was able to pull the phone records for Candeece. She made six calls that night. First five went to Eddie. But not the last one. You got an address? MAN: I get all kind of calls. It could've been a girl that I slept with. Or a girl that I didn't sleep with. ( dog barking ) Could've been a wrong number. Since when do wrong numbers last for four minutes? Well, you hear a sexy voice for four minutes? Well, you hear a sexy voice on the phone, what are you gonna do, you gonna hang up? So, you do remember the call. I like your Harley.
Look, Kiner, you're on parole; you got no rights. Looking at two strikes. I'm not trying to pull a fast ball on you, but it's not the first time that you've talked to Candeece. KINER: All right, so maybe me and Candy are friends. VEGA: Were friends. You guys used to talk once a day. Then she stopped calling you, until last night. People change. She fell into a bad element.
Mr. Kiner, do you own this house? My father left it to me. Your father have a drug problem? We found GHB in your garage. "Georgia Home Boy." Tell us what happened with Eddie.
Candy needed help. EDDIE: Hey, hey, hey! What're you doing here, huh? Who the hell are you? What are you selling her drugs for? What are you doing? I wanted you clean, huh. Hey, come on. I wanted you clean, huh. Hey, come on. Hey, please... What do you want, huh? Is this what you want? ( gunshot ) I got on my hog. I got the hell out of there. What do you expect me to do? Go back to the joint for her?
Cuff him.
Quid pro quo, right? Steven invests in your business, and you kill the two guys who are messing around with his wife. I could help you, Mr. Brass... with your inadequacy. You know, I'd like that, Lady H. It's tough being me.
I'd like to feel more secure in my role as a homicide detective. But you know what really gets me wild? The truth. Are you up for that?
( over speaker ): Mr. Grissom collected samples of my insulin. He's undoubtedly identified it as non-synthetic. BRASS: He told me it was beef insulin. HEATHER: Which, I take it, matches the insulin found in the two victims. Do you know that only 7% of diabetics in this country use an animal-based insulin? And you import yours from Great Britain. HEATHER: Which narrows the field down even further. BRASS: Right into your dominion. My personal area is open. Anyone could've walked right in and stolen from me.
Is it something I said?
I'm disappointed in you.
But not surprised.
You fear me... because I've committed the one unforgivable act. No, it's more like two acts... of murder.
I know you. And I know that, in your heart, you don't believe I did this. BRASS: Lady Heather... this has nothing to do with heart. It's all about the evidence.
( phone ringing ) MAN ( over P.A. ): CSI Logan to the chem lab. Logan to the chem lab.
♪ ♪
Greg. I need you to process these right away. Priority. Grissom. We got a problem.
WILLOWS: Stranglings are intimate. Crime of passion.
( clattering ) ( thud ) Or not.
( indistinct radio chatter ) ( siren chirps )
Mr. McCormick, were you the one who found your wife? Yes. On the stairs? Yes.
May I see your hands, please?
Other side.
They look clean.
Mm.
Should they be?
I don't know. If it were my spouse, I would've touched the body. Mm. I didn't.
Kiner is a drug dealer. Your drug dealer. No. Not anymore. Eddie got me off all that stuff. VEGA: You called Kiner. He came here. I tried to call Eddie. He had his phone off. He was with his pain-in-the-ass daughter and that psycho ex-wife of his. I was just alone in front of a microphone with my whole career riding on a demo. It's none of your business. ( indistinct shouting ) Hey, hey, Eddie. What? ( gunshot ) ( grunts ) ( gunshot ) ( grunts ) I thought Eddie wasn't coming.
I guess he was just late.
The material we found in Rebecca McCormick's wound was nylon thread with fragments of ostrich feather. Oh, I know that look. We're going back to Lady Heather's. I can take care of this myself. Gil, do me a favor. Get a sports car. It's a lot cheaper and easier to handle. ( doorbell rings ) I'd like to come in. Of course you would. Say the magic word.
Warrant? We don't have one.
GRISSOM: The, uh, submissive that was in here yesterday was wearing a feather boa. That would be Chloe. Chloe, uh...? Chloe Samms. She uses it as a garrote-- a way to control her breathing to heighten the experience for the dominant client. Hm.
Same scent as Trey Buchman's crime scene. Remember the strawberry foam?
Do these belong to Chloe? I believe so. Do these belong to Chloe? I believe so. BRASS: Well, the shoes link Chloe to the nightclub, and this job links Chloe to the two vics. Where is she? She quit yesterday. I bet I know why. Well, if she's in town, I'll find her.
I owe you an apology. Apologies are just words.
So, you're calling it?
I got two liars and no murder weapon... and no choice. I'm gonna nail the singer on child endangerment, and fleeing the scene, and the dealer goes up on possession for sale.
( sighs ) What a great bedtime story for my little girl.
Cat, I did my best.
No-needle syringe used on the vic at the foam party. I recovered some epithelials from the plunger end, compared them to your reference sample.
That girl you have in custody, it's her DNA. Case closed.
Thank you, Greg.
Look familiar?
Insulin was injected into Trey Buchman's shoulder at this end... by you.
Your epithelials were found at the plunger end. Epithelials are skin cells filled with DNA.
Your genetic fingerprint. BRASS: So, you're gonna tell us why, and you're gonna tell us why you strangled Rebecca McCormick.
For Steven.
I belong to him.
McCORMICK: Chloe had a problem controlling her emotions. She let things get personal. Define "personal," in your crowd. In my "crowd"? Yeah. In my "crowd"? Yeah.
( moaning ) GRISSOM: So, you started seeing each other outside of Lady Heather's? We'd meet occasionally, yes. Listen... my wife had a problem with sex. Sounds like she had a problem with you, pal.
My wife had a problem with sex. And at Lady Heather's, I fixed her. Oh, you fixed her? Yes. She stay fixed? Yes. She stay fixed? Yeah, you fixed her so good that she started spending your money to get other men to give her what you couldn't. Rebecca was out of control. So you got her to kill Richards and Buchman. No, I didn't. And then you told her to kill your wife. No, I loved my wife. I didn't tell Chloe to do anything. What happened? She killed Richards and Buchman on her own.
Okay.
Chloe thought that killing your wife's lovers would please you.
And it did please you. I told her to stop. But she didn't obey you. She killed your wife.
You couldn't make Chloe do what you wanted.
All that time at Lady Heather's, and you never learned that the submissive is the one in control?
I told her to stop.
♪ Stay tonight ♪
♪ We'll watch the full moon ♪ ♪ Rising... ♪ It's okay, Mommy. It's okay. ♪ Hold on tight... ♪ It's okay.
♪ The sky is breaking ♪
♪ I don't ever want to be ♪ ♪ Alone ♪ ♪ With all my darkest ♪ ♪ Dreaming ♪ ♪ Hold me close. ♪ ♪