By Sobell
Massive props to Dragon, without whom you'd have a recap that covered only 60 minutes of this episode and not the full 75.
We got no time for the beachy shores of Miami today; it's all about the prison action, at a location presumably close enough to make prison breaks an issue for Miami suburbanites. Why they don't float felons on a barge off the Keys is a municipal mystery that may never be answered. Anyway, we get plenty of shots of the prisoners taking their recreation out-of-doors. There are many men who have that "Body By Prison Weight Room, Tattoos By My Bitch" look. Two of them get into it on the basketball court. While we're getting acquainted with this setting, some sort of rap music is playing in the background; I suppose it's to give this some sort of hard-core cred, but really just sends middle America the message that anyone who makes or listens to rap is but one drive-by shooting away from carjacking a viewer's minivan and committing a drug-fueled act of violence out in the local soccer fields. Anyway, a shanking ensues.
We then see the prison gates opening to frame a shot of an empty courtyard under a Sergio Leone-filtered sky. Then, as if by magic, Horatio has appeared in the doorway and is now striding into the prison. He gets buzzed through the gate, and presumably heads right out to the basketball court where the bald, tattooed victim of the shanking has bled out. The weapon -- a toothbrush which has been altered so as to resemble a knife on one end -- is lying nearby. There had better be a really good reason Horatio's here, like finding out that the prison is but blocks away from the Miami Dolphins stadium and thus well within the jurisdiction, or maybe that Horatio lives to the prison or something. Otherwise, it seems like the Department of Corrections might have a few employees who would investigate this themselves. Anyway, Horatio and a security guard glower at the body for a moment, bemoan all the free time the prisoners have on their hands. Well, when you cut things like high-school equivalency classes and programs that actually attempt to give convicts some marketable skills to fall back on once they're in the real world, the result's going to be a lot of free time. The sky-high recidivism rate is only a side effect, no doubt. Anyway, Horatio and the security guard head over to where the other basketball players are on their knees with their hands behind their heads. The net effect is...well, let's just put it this way: there is nobody on Earth who's going to be able to wear a prison jumpsuit well.
Horatio decides to pick one and ask him what his name is. The man balks, and Horatio's all, "Come on, partner. What's your name?" The guy replies, "Ramirez, Rico. Booking number ." Horatio takes this opportunity to pull down Ramirez, Rico's collar and notice the "Montoya" tattooed on the back of the guy's neck. Oh, how sweet: his mom put her name on his collar, kind of, in case he gets lost and can't find his way home. Horatio gives the guard a look and asks him what his name is again, and the con replies, "Ramirez. You deaf or something?" Horatio asks, "Did you forget your name when you got this tattoo? We've got a bracelet switch here." Note that this is the first time we, the viewers at home, have had a chance to see the bracelets all the convicts are wearing on their right wrists. How these bracelets get there and how the prison guards prevent convicts from switching them as a matter of routine isn't covered. The guard notes that the prison's been in lockdown for half an hour and they're only now beginning to check IDs.
Just then, Horatio looks up and asks, "What's that? This airspace is restricted." "That" is a helicopter, and it's hovering mighty close to the prison courtyard. The guard sounds exasperated as he says, "Someone get on the horn to air patrol and get that chopper out of here." Someone scampers off to do precisely that. Horatio's all, "The air patrol doesn't fly A-stars. This murder is a decoy. We have an escape in progress!"
We sure do. See the convicts run. Run, convicts, run. It's amazing what great shape men who have nothing better to do can be in. As a rooftop guard finally begins firing on the escaping prisoners right as they reach the copter -- like, way to miss them when they were jogging across the courtyard, guy -- a convict pulls a gun out of thin air and, with one shot, pegs the guard, causing him to plummet to his death. Another guard picks up the slack and begins firing rounds all over the place. Horatio sprints to the fallen security guard, bellowing, "Officer down!" He then picks up the fallen man's pistol and begins shooting at the helicopter, getting several good shots in but failing to hit the fuel tank, or anything that would seriously cripple the bird. As the copter takes off, Horatio picks up a random radio receiver and begins shouting, "This is Horatio Caine. You have a 39-escapee. You have a westbound chopper from the Miami Detention Center. Three fugitives aboard, A and D. I repeat, they are armed and dangerous!"
Note that when I first watched this episode in my Denver Doubletree Hotel room, I snorted and asked rhetorically, "Why is Horatio screaming now?" My mother shot back, "He thinks he's talking to Gil." My mother the wit, ladies and gentlemen.
Roger Daltrey approves of MaBell too, if his initial "Yeah!!!" is anything to go by.
And now we're back in the non-prison part of Miami. No, wait. We're back at the prison. Damn you, deceptive skyline shots! The guard comes over and passes along the unsurprising news that it will take time to count 1500 prisoners and see exactly who got away. Horatio's all, "Fifteen hundred minus three. We find out who they are, we'll know where they went." Okay, so it'll take time to count 1497 men. Happy now? Speedle points out that the counting is compounded by bracelet switch logistics, and the security guard adds, "We found at least 20 men with switched bracelets in this module alone." Would that we knew more about these bracelets, so we could actually give a damn about that detail. Horatio gets called over to another bunk so we can see one of the filthy bracelet-switchers in person.
The security guard fills us in: "Joe Avilar. Likes to rape old women. We try to keep guys like this out of general pop. Inmates like to tear them up." Horatio asks Joe who forced him to wear the bracelet, and Joe feigns ignorance. So Horatio grabs his wrist -- really, couldn't he have just done that and saved himself the conversation? -- and we find out that Joe's wearing the bracelet of one Hank Kerner, a three-time felon who's big on shooting people in the temple, then stealing their cars. Kerner was awaiting trial on a tourist couple he capped in Biscayne, and Horatio's all, "I know that case," as we flash back to Hank Kerner's mug shot. Hank is not what you'd call a real looker. Speedle helpfully points out, "Hank Kerner was going away for life. Nothing to lose." Before Horatio can follow up with some observation like, "He had only his freedom to gain," or "He's making sure others lose everything," or "It's frightening how thick and fast the clichés come when you've recapped twenty-odd episodes' worth of them," his cell phone rings, and he orders the person on the other end to set up a one-mile perimeter. Then he clicks off and tells the people standing around him, "They found the helicopter downed around Northwest and Flagler. Thank you, Joe." Joe looks disgusted to have helped. Horatio zooms off to the helicopter scene. I like to imagine that Hank's temple-shooting, transit-jacking impulses took over and he offed the pilot.
Holy cow, I was right! As Horatio gets out of the Humvee, he meets Hagen. Hagen tells him that pedestrians saw the chopper losing altitude, and the fuselage was leaking fuel from the shootout. Ten bucks says Horatio's gun dealt that blow. Anyway, there are two dead bodies in the copter: a pilot and a passenger. Horatio asks Alexx if the two men were killed in the crash, and she replies, "Not unless they each crashed into a bullet." Hee! Each of the dead guys got a single shot to the temple. Horatio looks at Calleigh, as if searching for her face beneath the curtain of hair blowing to see if she's got any sort of facial expression.
Sadly, we don't get to find out, for the same reason we'll never know why anyone with super-long hair wears it blowing all over the place at crime scenes; some things are beyond the comprehension of we mortal men and women. Alexx tries hard to foreshadow the episode by asking Calleigh if the entrance wounds look familiar, but she's not playing. However, she does comment that convict Randall Kaye is familiar. Hagen adds, "Stockbroker, last Thanksgiving? Hit-and-run, dragged a pedestrian two miles under his car." Horatio mows over this recitation of a truly horrific way to die by noting, "He hired one of the most powerful attorneys in Palm Beach and got three short years. The question is, who's the pilot?" Alexx whips out a laminated card and says, "The license says Bryce Kaye. Could be his brother." Calleigh helpfully observes that this may not have been his planned landing area. Just then, the closed-captioning reads, "Good shot, H. Brought the chopper down." Note that we don't hear this, but now a segment of the television-watching audience has read that Horatio did indeed bring down the chopper single-handedly. It figures. Calleigh then does a word problem: "If they've been on the ground 40 minutes, and the average foot speed is five miles per hour, we've got a radius of just a little over three miles." Horatio notes that "they'll be looking for transportation. Hank Kerner will be all over that." Cut to Calleigh finally looking stricken. Hagen announces that he'll put out a BOLO ("be on the look-out") for all stolen vehicles. Calleigh's all, "Hank Kerner. I thought I recognized that muzzle stamp." Horatio's not going to let her wander around in a reminiscent fog; he snaps, "Let's hope someone recognizes him. Let's put his picture out on the news, and find Me." What? Find Horatio? That makes no sense. Does that mean people will be calling in and saying, "I saw this Hank guy, but I thought you'd rather know that Horatio's buying a cheeseburger?" Oh, this dialogue makes no sense.
Delko walks down a prison corridor, to the delighted catcalls of the prisoners. I just can't shake the feeling that Delko would look stunning in lipstick and a belly shirt; there's got to be some sort of undercover drag operation in his future. As Delko finally reaches the cell where Speedle's working, Speedle looks up and asks, "What's with the no-ac, man?" Delko replies, "I had my phone on vibrate and I was, ah, a little busy." Speedle's all, "Yeah?" Delko elaborates, "I didn't want to be interrupted." Speedle rolls his eyes and asks, "Busy with the left hand?" Oh, I couldn't have said it better myself. Speedle's place in the TV harem is assured; he'll be staying in the Surly Law Enforcement wing along with Warrick and Angry Danny Taylor from CSI: Missing Guy. Delko's all, "Heh. Not," or something to that effect, before commenting on the decor in Joe Avilar's original cell. Speedle points out that Joe switched bands with Hank Kerner. Delko asks, "Three guys locked in the same cell, C.O. doesn't recognize them." We glance over to the CO, who looks abashed. Speedle points out, "He's fresh out of the academy. It's his first assignment. He sees a convict, he sees their clothes, not their faces." Delko can accept that. He surveys the bunks and asks Speedle, "You want upper or lower?" Speedle shrugs, "I got here on time." Heh. Delko snorts, "For once," and then sets to work examining the toilet while Speedle works the upper bunk. They search some more; there's an embroidery hoop with blue thread tucked in between the springs and the mattress of the upper bunk, and a lot of pictures of a smiling little girl whom one plaque identifies as Emma Kaye. Oh, that would be the adorable daughter of hit-and-drag driver Randall Kaye. This all leads to a seemingly inevitable conclusion: Delko plumbing the depths of the prison so he can poke around for reasons that aren't entirely apparent later. Therefore, we won't bother now.
So we'll just go to the scene. Oh, goody -- (Y)Elena's there. As is Horatio. Mercifully, this scene is taking place in an intersection in broad daylight and not, say, in someone's bedroom. The upshot is that there's been another carjacking with Hank's fingerprints all over it, and Horatio's attempting to question a witness who speaks only Spanish. That guy should get with it -- as Miriam "Ma" Ferguson, former governor of Texas, allegedly said, "If English was good enough for Jesus Christ" -- and by extension, his redheaded stepbrother Horatio -- "it's good enough for me." Is it just me, or is there a history of Texas governors presenting logically-pretzeled oratory to the rest of the world? Anyway, (Y)Elena talks to the guy in Spanish for a while, and comes back to tell Horatio, "He may be talking about a muzzle flash." Oh, Horatio doesn't think so: "That is a traffic enforcement camera." We see flashbacks of it taking photos of Hank's carjacking, all so that we can see the gratuitous TMICam work of an ignition spark passing up a wire to make a camera flash.
Back in the lab, Horatio's reviewing the footage. He notes the victim in the SUV. A lab tech helpfully adds, "A car behind her runs a red light moments before she gets shot." That activated the traffic camera. Champion of the Eyewitness (Y)Elena adds, "Explains why Mr. Sorriano saw a flash before he heard a gunshot." Horatio commands the A/V tech to zoom in on the carjacker, and sure enough, it's Hank Kerner. His partner, however, is unidentifiable from the angle at which the photo was taken. Horatio asks, "Tyler, these cameras take two pictures, don't they?" Tyler says, "Yeah. One as you enter the intersection, and one in the center." They zoom in, and the music gets ominous as Horatio says, "That's Stewart Otis." Loyal CSI: Miami viewers -- and why there are any of you who are loyal viewers without the financial inducement I currently depend on for motivation to watch this show is beyond my ken -- will remember him as the pedophile who killed that little girl in the pizza parlor. Horatio notes, "Convicted child killer. I put him in jail Myself." We flash back to the interrogation scene where Stewart was all, "I didn't even get to play with her." (Y)Elena points out that, according to the footage, Stewart didn't get into the car, so maybe Kerner left him behind. Horatio's all, "The question is, to do what?" Oh, take a wild guess. Horatio continues brooding: "I told Ruthie Crichton's mother he'd never hurt another child." (Y)Elena watches him for a moment before asking if he's okay. Horatio replies, "Nope. Not with Stewart on the loose. Nobody is."
Down in the morgue, Alexx is saying disapprovingly, "Young mother, and a bullet to the temple. Mmm. Two things that do not go together." Well, I'd argue that a bullet to the temple goes with very few things, but who am I to take on the social mandate that the loss of a parent's life is somehow more poignant than the loss of any life to violent crime, period? God knows that sentiment seems to count for more when assessing victims on this show: Did they have a family? Can we see the family grieve? Then bring 'em on! This show is never going to give us a brutally slain orphan, because nobody who works in CSI would have any idea how to handle themselves during the case. Calleigh's all into the bullet: "It's a .38 or a .357 with a five right. Smith & Wesson, Ruger or Taurus revolver." Alexx replies that she's got gunpowder with radial tears around the wound, which means that she's got a muzzle stamp, just like the two bodies from the helicopter. We flash back to the Kaye brothers' ending as the helicopter lands -- again, Hank's pulling a gun out of God knows where and icing those two. Alexx comments, "That's three for three on the Hank Kerner chart. Boy's a regular cowboy." Calleigh adds, "And a cold-blooded killer." Gosh, after three dead bodies in less than three hours, you think that's a fair conclusion to come to? Alexx ushers us into She's A Plucky, Gun-Toting CSI: The Calleigh Duquesne Story with, "I don't like this. You and Kerner have a history. Calleigh replies pluckily, "I have a history with a lot of bad guys, Alexx. So do you." Just then, Detective Contrivance -- excuse me, "Hagen" -- comes through the door wondering why Calleigh couldn't have maybe raised this information back at the chopper. Calleigh pluckily points out that "we've been through two hung juries together. It's not like we're picking out china." Hagen's a little pissed. I don't blame him. Nor would I want to be him, since he will inevitably spend the rest of the episode pointing out common-sense things like, "Maybe this desperate felon will be looking for you," and getting ignored for his troubles.
Well, that's because Calleigh has to go meet her obviously doomed friend, Lawyer Janet. We learn that a) Calleigh is not above taking bribes from Foghorn Leghorn vis-à-vis his drunken behavior, and thus has a very nice necklace her daddy gave her; b) Janet was the lawyer who put Hank away, and she is aware that Calleigh is Marked for Vengeance: The Calleigh Duquesne Story; and c) Calleigh and Lawyer Janet are friends who tear up the town on the rare nights when Calleigh's not in the lab being all workaholic and dying for Horatio to notice her. Now, wave goodbye to Janet, because this is the last time we're going to see her standing erect.
Meanwhile, Speedle and Delko are busy examining the embroidery thread found in Stewart Otis's bunk. We learn that the murderous perv went on to a fulfilling career in the prison tailor shop, where he made the little flag patches on the Florida Marlins' uniforms. Well, the sticky paper leads us to a similar conclusion, as Delko points out, "Water-soluble weave stabilizer. The Boy Scouts use it to make patches." Horatio mumbles from the throes of a flashback, "You mean like a uniform...a fake uniform. That's how he got Ruthie Crichton. So he was making a disguise." Again -- Stewart Otis used to lure children away from their parents by dressing up like the Happy Ho-Ho Pizzatoria Plaza Playmate, or whatever the hell it was called. We flash to the abduction scene, and I get the sinking feeling that the extra fifteen minutes tacked on to this episode are, in fact, actually five minutes of commercials and ten minutes of flashbacks to "Broken." Anyway, Horatio notices all the family portraits Randall had tacked up in his cell, and we establish that Randall's wife is Dawn and his daughter is Emma. And Randall apparently had no problem helping a convicted child molester and killer with a taste for little girls escape? We establish that Emma is probably seven, and Horatio points out, "You see this tape? It means that this picture has been taken off the wall repeatedly." Speedle comments, "One man's family album is another man's porn." And Randall...had no knowledge of this? Three men in a cell, it's pretty hard to hide anything. So he had no problem with it? That's pretty sick. I hope we don't get to a scene where we find out that Randall bought his escape with his child's life. Horatio concludes that Emma is Stewart The Child-Killer's target, and Delko's all, "We got to get to his house." Horatio reins Delko in: "Wait a second. The thread Stewart uses is red, blue and gray, right? It's not the house. We've got to get to the school. It's the school."
Cut to the school -- Spanish mission-style architecture, a lot of palm trees -- letting the children out for the day. Horatio's Humvee and a cop car pull up; the principal looks out his window and sighs, "Oh, no. It's that freak who was hanging out on the benches and glowering at the kids. Again." (Y)Elena comes over to tell Horatio that she just talked to Emma's teacher, and class was already out when Horatio called over there. Horatio's all, "We gotta find Emma." He heads over to a clump of girls, and one asks, "Are you looking for Emma?" Horatio hunkers down and asks nicely, "Yeah, I am. Have you seen her?" I'll say this for him -- and David Caruso by extension: Horatio never seems like he's patronizing the children he's talking to, and he's got a nice rapport with them. It's rare on TV and nice to watch. Anyway, we find out that "the new teacher" -- who, as we see in a menacing shot, is none other than Stewart Otis -- absconded with Emma by telling her, "Your mommy told me to come get you." You know, when I was a little younger than Emma, I was once at CCD class and a friend's mother pulled up and told me to hop in the car because she was taking me home. Remembering that my parents had told me that kidnappers often snagged their prey with this line, I naturally refused to hop in, and Sister Mary Ann's reassurance that my mom had called ahead to verify my ride only made me sure the Church was in on my possible abduction. To make a long story short, Sister Mary Ann ended up calling my mother to tell her that I was busy sprinting the two miles home, crying and screaming at the top of my lungs about would-be kidnappers, while the neighbor whose offer of help Mom had accepted was left in the parking lot, telling anyone who would listen that she had no intention of stealing anyone's kids. The moral of my story: teach your kids from an early age who is and who isn't a safe adult, and you'll save your kids the experience young Emma is about to go through. Surely this idea didn't fall out of vogue since my 1978 road trip home. Anyway, Emma's parents fell down on the job, possibly because most of their free time has been spent making sure Randall does not have to pay any debt to society for mowing down a pedestrian and dragging him or her to his death. Horatio realizes this, and broods for a moment before decreeing, "He's got her." I bet he's really dreading the call to Ruthie Crichton's mom at this point. "Hello? Mrs. Crichton? Look, you know how I promised no other kids would get hurt? Well..."
Enter Randall's wife Dawn, who's looking around for Emma. Horatio comes over and says, "Are you Mrs. Kaye?" She admits that she is. Horatio says, "Mrs. Kaye, about five minutes ago, a man took Emma from the school." While he's delivering the bullet (I wonder if he's all, "I love this -- I mean, 'breaking the bad news is the most difficult part of the job'"?), (Y)Elena's checking out the car, which had a lot of luggage in the back. Dawn's not looking too upset. Horatio points this out, and Dawn improvs badly. (Y)Elena comes over to compliment Dawn on her luggage, and to ask, "When was the last time you spoke to your husband?" Dawn does not reply, "Who are you people and why are you talking to me as if you're cops, since you haven't identified yourselves as such?" Dawn is all, "My husband is in jail." Horatio gets to deliver a second piece of bad news in under five minutes -- breaking his record by a substantial margin, no doubt -- and says, "Ma'am, your husband was killed this morning escaping from that jail." Dawn's taking the news well, quite possibly because she doesn't understand English. Maybe she's looking around for the JFX cameras.
And now we're inside somewhere with Dawn. (Y)Elena says to Dawn, "I noticed the luggage in your car." Horatio adds, "Were you traveling today?" Dawn declines to say anything, not even, "I need to talk to my lawyer, and by the way, are you guys cops or what? No, really. Five minutes we've known each other, you're all, 'Your husband's dead, your kid's taken,' and have I seen any ID? I don't think so." Horatio says, "Mrs. Kaye, you're involved in this, aren't you?" Dawn replies, "My daughter was growing up without a father." Caine jumps in with, "Technically, it's will grow up now, and given that she's mere hours away from being chopped up and buried in someone's backyard, it's not like she's going to have time to feel the loss acutely." Oh, he does not. He just glares at Dawn until she justifies her weak morals with, "I just wanted my family back together." I'm sure that's not a sentiment the family of her husband's victim ever expressed. Horatio passes judgement with, "I understand." Cue Dawn whimpering, "Where's Emma?" "Oh, she's with the vicious child molester whose multiple murder victims are literally pushing up the daisies. And while we can't figure out why your husband wasn't smart enough to notice that this creep was whacking off to pictures of your daughter, much less inviting him along on an escape attempt, we can reassure you that none of this will matter in 45 minutes," (Y)Elena says. Actually, she replies, "We believe that one of the men who escaped with your husband had taken Emma." We get a close-up of Dawn's face, and we can see the ravages of grief -- or Botox, since her forehead hasn't gone anywhere in the last ten minutes -- as she attempts to wrest her face into something approximating anguish. Horatio tells her, "I need you to focus. The first 24 hours are crucial." Dawn proposes going to a bank. Horatio replies, "Listen to Me. I can assure you this man's interest in Emma is not monetary." Oh, that'll help Dawn focus. She asks, "What have I done?" Attempted to circumvent the societal bonds that keep our society running, then acted surprised when your actions come back to smack you in the face? Or were you looking for something more specific? We then establish that we're bringing in scent dogs to track Emma and Stewart. Right then, Dawn converts to The Church of Horatio, and the lure of rescuing a child in peril outweighs the righteous lecture about aiding and abetting a prison escape that Dawn deserves.
Back in the lab, Hagen feigns an interest in Calleigh's work while she confirms that we get not one, not two, but three TMICam shots of what a bullet does when it enters the brain. Her main point is that matching them up may be hard, since they did take slightly different paths while scrambling cerebral cortices as they went. Calleigh points out, "Bullets bounce against bone, you end up with three pretty distorted bullets." Hagen wants to know if Calleigh can get a match between all three; she's sure she can, because she's Competent and Fearless: The Calleigh Duquesne Story. Just then, Hagen gets a phone call that's not good news. The line "Same gunshot wound?" makes Calleigh perk up, and when he makes to go because he's got a DB to go stand over, Calleigh asks, "Is this about Hank Kerner?" Hagen steels himself and says, "It looks like he got another victim." Calleigh breathes in deeply, then asks, "Not the eyewitness, our college girl." Hagen replies, "Worse."
And it's a horizontal Lawyer Janet with a gunshot wound to the temple. Over in the Oh, Shit, He Was Serious: The Calleigh Duquesne Story, Calleigh's moaning, "I can't believe he went for Janet. I want to be there when you notify her family. Her parents are going to be devastated." On CSI: Miami, the victim's worth is assessed only in parental or filial impact. Sorry, disowned people and orphans! Your deaths are nowhere near as sad! Hagen sensibly points out, "You shouldn't be anywhere near this. If Kerner's bold enough to go after the prosecutor on his tourist trial, he's bold enough to go after the CSI. You should take time off until this is over." Calleigh laughs derisively: "With fugitives out there. I don't think so." Hagen plays his ace by whipping out the cell and adding, "I'm sure Horatio would say the same thing." Calleigh commands Hagen to put the phone away, because she's Never Taken A Sick Day: The Calleigh Duquesne Story. Hagen's getting a little exasperated: "Don't you get it? Kerner broke out to kill anyone who could hurt him at the trial. You're , Calleigh. He's going to shoot you in the head and eat your heart to steal your courage." Or maybe he stops before that last line. Calleigh is defiant. She's plucky! Hagen looks frustrated. He can take a break from the rigors of the job in the anteroom of my TV Harem; I'm willing to consider his application.
We're back at the school, where Dawn is busy thinking, "When did my life become such a nightmare? If only my husband hadn't been caught when he mowed down that innocent person, none of these bad things would be happening to me now!" Horatio is on the phone with Dan Clarkson, who's all about setting up the fugitive team debriefings. Speedle trades phones so that Horatio can talk to Calleigh. She's stuck in My Lawyer Friend Is Dead: The Calleigh Duquesne Story, and telling Horatio, "Kerner got to Janet Madrano. Yeah. State's attorney. The liver temp indicates the body is fresh, so he's less than an hour out. I don't know if he's on foot or on wheels, but if you catch him now, the sand in his shoes alone is enough to strap him to the chair." Horatio is oddly unconcerned about Calleigh's safety. I guess Hagen was getting ready to do something stupid by calling Horatio, because he would have gotten an earful of "Bah! She's of no use to me. She isn't a child, and she's only grieving over a friend." Horatio directs Calleigh to tell the cops to set up new checkpoints. He does tell her to be careful, because Kerner "plays for keeps." Calleigh lies about how she's being careful.
Then Horatio turns back to a man and dog and says, "Butch! Thank you for coming." It is unclear whether he's addressing man or bloodhound. Butch or his handler answers, "She's ready to track." Whenever there's trouble, they're there on the double. Horatio gives him the info on Emma, and Delko comes over to say, "I've read that dogs smell with their tongues." Since we've just learned that the dog's name is Dutchess, I can write with all certainty that Butch is the one about to take us on a trans-species TMICam adventure as he replies, "Well, that's true. Most odor molecules are carried by mucus through the nasal cavity to the convoluted folds behind the nose. That's where that molecule becomes a chemical message to the brain." Not to belittle Butch's monologue, because I'm certainly all about big thinkers in unlikely packages, but this totally reminds me of the time Alice Cooper told Wayne and Garth about the roots of Milwaukee's name in the Wayne's World movie. Dutchess finds a scent, and we're off and running.
We find out that Stewart took Emma in a cab, the cab's ventilation system spit those odor molecules back out in the street, and then they head into an alley where the scent evidently pooled. Horatio pulls out his gun and waves it around -- I wonder if they teach that move in acting class, since every male actor in America ends up playing a cop at one point or another -- and he and Delko eventually find a pile of Emma's clothing and her recently-shorn hair in one corner of the alley. Horatio bets that Stewart's trying to pass Emma off as a boy. We flash to Emma whining as he snips her hair and sings, "It will be just like Halloween! Your own neighbors won't know you. Come on, we're a team! Come on, stop crying!" This is the point where I snap and wonder again: first, what was Stewart Otis -- a child molester who had killed at least six children -- doing anywhere else but Death Row? Florida's killed people for less; you'd think he'd have gotten the chair for Ruthie alone. Second, how could Randall Kaye share a cell with a pedophiliac and killer, and be all blasé about hanging pictures of his little girl on the wall, and then be all, "Sure! Come escape with me!" What, was he planning on inviting Stewart for dinner? Did it never occur to him that Stewart was eyeballing his daughter? Third -- you're a child-loving pervert who's been around adults for all of nine months. You're offered a chance to escape. Do you: a) return to the stomping grounds of the guy who put you away so you can pick up one kid, or b) head for Georgia and resume your life of abduction, rape, and murder far away from the long arm of the Miami law? This whole plot is so blatantly manipulative -- Horatio made a promise! There's a child in danger! For one CSI, the case is getting personal yet again! And did we mention that the child is cute? -- that it almost shocks the viewer into accepting the brain-dead premises pushing it ever forward. Almost -- I'm still trying to figure out why Hank didn't kill Stewart when he was escaping, since he seems so fond of shooting people in the temple. I may be at it all summer, provided that I suffer a blow to the head and lose my interest in, oh, anything else on Earth. Anyway, Horatio tells Delko, "Put out the word, Eric. He's traveling with a little boy."
Back in the Shut Up, Hagen -- I'm Fine: The Calleigh Duquesne Story, Hagen is confirming that Hank took a post-homicidal break with a hooker named Treynice. Hagen's currently confirming this with Treynice's pimp, the rare man who is not afraid to work baby blue. Boy Blue is all, "I admit that, you got me for pandering." You know, "pandering" sounds like it should be a cute crime, like something little teddy bears on puffy embroidered sweatshirts with the slogan, "I oughta PANDER some chocolate today!!! [heart] [heart] [heart]." I'm just saying, etymology aside, I can't take "pandering" seriously as a word. Hagen tells Boy Blue, "You got it backwards: you don't confirm she's with Hank Kerner, we grab you up. Does Treynice carry a cell phone?" Boy Blue's offended by the question: "What do I look like to you, man, some low-budget bougie operation. All my girls got cell phones, beepers, PCs. It's the third millennium, Chuck." I like Boy Blue -- we should keep this guy around. He could be Pander Bear. A SWAT team guy with a voice that makes James Earl Jones sound like Edward Burns says, "Okay, Bill Gates, call her. We need to make sure she's in the room before we move." Boy Blue does: "Yo, delicious. What's taking so long? Where's my money? I didn't ask you what the bald boy likes, I asked you, do you got the money? Well, count it twice. I'm bouncing." Just then, Miss I Don't Care If You're Nervous For Me: The Calleigh Duquesne Story her own self gets out of the car, just as Boy Blue confirms that Treynice is in there with Kerner. Calleigh's all, "Detective. I didn't get a call. I had to hear from Dispatch you located Kerner's associate." Boy howdy, is she irritated. Hagen protests, "The lead just came in." Calleigh replies, "This is our investigation. Don't run it without me." Well, excuse him for maybe trying to minimize the chances that someone will off you. Boy Blue opines, "Looks like you got some management problems of your own." Bring back Pander Bear in the fall! Do it! Hagen is not amused.
Just then, the shooting starts, and there's much gunplay. The SWAT team eventually takes the complex where Boy Blue is stashing his team of independent contractors, and they break into the apartment, where a bunch of unamused working girls put up their hands with a lot of eye-rolling. Hagen and Calleigh come in, and Calleigh demands, "Where'd he go?" Treynice is understandably irritated: "He didn't pay me! Cheap-assed bald bastard." Calleigh demands more angrily, "Where did Hank go?" Treynice replies, "To put a cap in some bitch cop. Blonde bitch. Uh, Britney? Better check this out." Treynice -- whom I also like based on her sassitude, and whom I'd like to see teamed up with Boy Blue as the CSI:M informants in Season Two for relief from the endless humorless brooding -- opens a door, and we see written in a dark liquid, "31." I have no idea what that is; if it's blood, there's no explanation for how Hank got enough of it to write large numerals on the wall. Anyway, that number's the code for a murder, so it's like Hank is sending her a message or something. I guess killing Janet The Lawyer wasn't effective as a communications strategy. Hagen takes it as a direct threat. Calleigh, for whom the bullet chambers are always half-full, prefers to think of it as trace evidence.
And now, Dawn is sharing with us her ill-conceived strategy for enforcing family values via a bloody prison break: "Randall said a convict had approached him about escaping. He wouldn't tell me who he was or what he had done. I should have asked." Well, all the marriage experts do say communication is the key to any good marriage. Horatio nudges Dawn to keep going, and Dawn continues, "I told Randall's brother what the plan was." Horatio interrupts, "Bryce, right? Bryce the pilot." Dawn replies, "Yeah. He would have done anything for his big brother. I called an offshore account in the morning to wire the -- wait. I remember one of the men asked for an RV. Randall didn't want me to be tied up purchasing one, so he decided to pay them both cash. They agreed on $50,000 apiece, which Bryce brought over on the helicopter. I don't know which one asked for the RV." Horatio does nothing for Dawn's nerves when he says, "Stewart asked for the RV." "The man who took Emma?" Dawn asks. Yup. Dawn wants to know how Horatio knows, and he high-hands her with, "It doesn't really matter right now." Dawn finally realizes that an RV is "a mobile apartment. He could take her anywhere." Horatio sends (Y)Elena off to contact every RV dealership in Miami to see if any single men have rented an RV in the last 24 hours.
Cut to Horatio standing in profile on someone's step and asking, "Simon Bishop?" Simon looks a little edgy as he confirms that he is who Horatio says he is. Horatio asks where his RV is. Simon's all, "What RV?" and (Y)Elena whips out the dealer's statement to tell him, "You were the only one insured to drive." Well, Simon just has to invite them in after that.
The camera pans over a shot of the boys' soccer team Simon coached. Simon helpfully adds, "I also coach local boys' basketball and cross-country." Horatio notes that Simon was coach of the year, then asks where the RV is. Simon's all, "I lent it to a friend." (Y)Elena whips out Stewart's mug shot and asks, "Who? Him?" Simon's all, "Stewart Odett. I met him in a chat room online." When? Nine months ago? And his friend contacted him how with this RV request? Or were the producers just planning on driving the RV through this plot hole? Horatio corrects him, "Stewart Otis. He is a convicted child molester and child killer. Did you know that?" (Y)Elena adds that Stewart was about to get sentenced to death ("about to"?) when he broke out. Horatio adds that Stewart was traveling with a little girl disguised as a little boy. That Happy Meal in Simon's trash can is about to be used against him. Simon eventually says, "He said her name used to be Emma. He didn't tell me her new name. I haven't seen them since." Horatio asks if maybe Simon and Stewart don't do each other favors. Simon says indignantly, "I don't molest children." Horatio asks testily, "What did you trade for use of the RV?" Simon's all, "Nothing." Horatio snarls, "You're insulting Me." Simon tries, "Oh, yeah? Well, you're insulting me!" but his playground tactics don't work, so he promptly switches into pervert mode: "Emotional intimacy doesn't come with a predetermined age range. I merely challenge the accepted view that children are non-sexual." Oh, that's going to go a long way with the police. Horatio asks, "What about the accepted view that exploiting a child in any way is a felony? So what do you got, Simon? Let's go." Simon's got clothed Polaroids of Emma in her new togs with her new haircut. (Y)Elena promptly arrests him for possession of child pornography. He protests, "But these aren't my photos! She's not even my type!" Thank you, CSI: Miami, for illustrating every ignorant parent's fear that any childless volunteer working with children is a gay pervert just waiting to prey on their children. Thank you also for setting up the scene in a way where we're supposed to root for the police arresting someone based on the possession of Polaroids in which a child is being non-sexually depicted. I realize that this is network TV, there's no way to depict explicit photos, et cetera, but the scene could have been staged in a way where we never saw the photos, the detectives reacted with revulsion and said, "Wow, these explicit photos are awful!" and then, this would have looked more like a case and less like police going wild and arresting people on trumped-up charges. Jesus wept over this plotline, and so did I.
Back at More Guts Than Sense: The Calleigh Duquesne Story, Calleigh's busy processing evidence in an empty lab, all alone, late at night. All we need is a freak with a chainsaw behind one door, a burnt guy with a fedora behind door number two, and Hank Kerner delivering pizza at door number three. Calleigh gets all jumpy while she pipettes and titrates, and when Hagen just appears out of nowhere to say hello, she nearly jumps out of her skin before recovering. Hagen asks if she got anything off the "31," and she tells him, "Petroleum and graphite." It's gun lubricant; Calleigh tells us, "It's old-school. Most modern lubricants have Teflon." She's about to send it off to Trace for the brand, and asks Hagen if he's going to follow her there too. You know, she could claim she left some evidence on the floor of her bedroom and get Hagen to follow her there. I'm just saying. After Hagen asks if Calleigh's okay, she replies, "Not only did I graduate from the same academy as you, but I'm a southern woman and all that implies, and I don't know why you have so little confidence in my ability to protect myself." You know, it's only because I, too, was raised south of the Mason-Dixon that I'm picking up the "southern woman and all that implies" line and thinking, "So it implies an ability to drink all night and hold besotted conversations where you declare, 'If I'm half the woman my momma was, I'm gonna be all right'? A weird hang-up about table manners? An inability to wear black to weddings? A regrettable tendency toward big hair in a totally unironic way?" I know, I know -- it's all about the steel magnolia, our ancestresses faced an invading army with moxie, blah dee blah. I'm just saying, there are aspects of southern womanhood beyond that, many of them involving matching accessories and to-die-for recipes, and they deserve their due too. Anyway, Hagen claims that it's all about how "my first partner, Ray Caine, worked Narco when he got killed on the job." What, are there all of eight detectives on the force? Must all crimes lead back to Horatio and his dead brother? Anyway, Hagen's all, "If I lose another partner, I get a rep. I've seen guys run off the force for it." Calleigh turns down his request that she bunk in with Speedle or Delko for the night. So he hangs around for his self-interest -- nudge nudge, wink wink -- and not Calleigh's. Awwww. Hagen likes Calleigh. He's going to start passing her ballistics reports with "Do you like me? Check ()yes ()maybe ()no. Will you go out with me? Check ()yes ()no" on them.
Meanwhile, Horatio's studying the Polaroids with Delko. Where is Speedle in all this? Is he surfing the internet or something? The point to this scene is to tell us that Horatio's going to pinpoint where the photos were taken by looking at the shadowy outline which peeps through the sheet hanging over the window, and pinpointing the RV's location. ["Yeah, right. Who took this Polaroid, Diane Arbus? Have the writers ever seen a Polaroid? You're lucky if you can distinguish major facial features. In other words, shut up, Horatio." -- Sars] Delko does this by utilizing the "Geographic Information System," and explains, "It calculates the ratio between peaks and compares that to a database of similar ratios from Miami's buildings and landscapes." We soon find out that the RV was parked at the Orange Bowl. Delko points out, "The Orange Bowl has 5000 parking spots." Horatio's all, "All we need is one." Delko replies, "I can calculate the moment of the sun to figure out where Stewart was parked, but that's gonna take a few hours." Horatio's off to twist Simon's arm.
Oh, you know, I was kidding about that, but Horatio's not. He's marching a handcuffed Simon around the parking lot and demanding to know where the RV was parked. Simon protests that Horatio doesn't have to be so physical, and Horatio snots, "You don't know what physical is!" Simon leads them to the wide open space, and Horatio states the obvious with, "Well, they're not here, are they?" "You tell me, know-it-all detective!" Simon snaps back. Or not. Fortunately, Horatio and (Y)Elena can follow the trail that the RV's damaged waste tank made.
And they do -- to the ass end of nowhere. It's now dark, and there's a light on the trailer, leading Horatio to growl, "Somebody's home." He, (Y)Elena, and a SWAT team armed with klieg lights sneak up on the RV. They kick open the door after Horatio counts down, "Three...two..." and Horatio screams, "Miami-Dade Police!" as they charge in the trailer. Well, there's nothing in the trailer except a bloody streak and a videotape of Emma -- since this recently escaped felon has time to set up an elaborate trap taunting Horatio, as opposed to getting the hell out of Dodge while the gettin's good. This makes no sense. Cross the state line, go to Mailboxes 'R' Us, and send him the tape along with a postcard from Valdosta. On screen, Stewart directs Emma to wave bye-bye to Horatio, which she does. (Y)Elena announces that they've found something outside. Is it the missing material that would have filled in the plot holes? No, wait -- that would have been visible from space.
Anyway, (Y)Elena has discovered miraculously preserved footsteps and the drag marks from a shovel. We see the flashback of Stewart walking Emma along while he holds said shovel, and keeping her in line with Really Intense Looks. Horatio proves that his brilliant deductive mind is at work when he states, "He's going to bury her." With a shovel? No!
We cut ever-so-briefly to Hagen hunkering down to keep a vigil for Calleigh all night.
Horatio's running through dense fields with puny flashlights -- gosh, why don't they use the ones that are currently keeping the RV under surveillance? -- until Horatio detects the unconscious Emma under some foliage. Cue him screaming, "Emma? Emma? She's aliiiiiiive! She's aliiiiiiive!" Off in a different part of the show, (Y)Elena turns around, wearing the "Is there no miracle Horatio can't perform?" face.
Meanwhile, Hagen wakes with a start and notes that -- surprise, surprise -- he's in the final scenes of She Confronted The Killer Perp Alone: The Calleigh Duquesne Story. We find out that Calleigh popped out about an hour ago once she found out that the lubricant was the A-1 Dependable brand. In the words of the tech, "[Calleigh] took off like a bat out of Hell."
Let us hope she didn't end up in a Meat Loaf video. And now, the final moments of She's Gun-Toting Southern Woman And All That Implies: The Calleigh Duquesne Story. Calleigh's in the middle of a gun store, asking the indifferent guy behind the counter if he carries A-1 Dependable brand gun lubricant. He's all, "No." Calleigh gets all chatty with, "Really? Now that's funny, 'cause it's this old-school lubricant that my daddy used to use, and I distinctly remember y'all [being] the only store in Miami that carried it." Either she's here because she knows every gun store in Miami like the back of her hand, or she's making this story up, and we have no way of finding out which it is. The guy behind the counter's all, "You remembered wrong." Calleigh tries again, this time whipping out a picture of Hank after we all get an eyeful of her holster. Cut to the shop owner getting all evasive and looking down a specific aisle before he waffles. Calleigh's got no pity: "Well, that's too bad. Because now I'm going to have to come back with an ATF agent and shut you down for a few days." Why? Because he didn't answer a direct question? Is she threatening him? Doesn't that constitute an abuse of power? She finishes, "I guarantee you, you're gonna remember that." Cue Hank, popping up into view like a prairie dog. Calleigh discreetly reaches for her gun, the better to play Whack-A-Con. The agent's all, "Please? I don't want to get into any trouble." Still keeping her eye on Hank, Calleigh replies, "Why don't you just tell me what aisle it's on?" She pulls out the gun and heads for aisle four, keeping an eye on the security mirror that shows Hank's every move. Calleigh pulls her gun, and it occurs to Hank that maybe he can check the security mirror too. He sees her moving and pulls his gun where he thinks she's going to be, conveniently forgetting that the mirrors are typically flipped by 180 degrees, so she is, in fact, behind him. He finds this out when Calleigh presses her piece to his temple and commands, "Drop the gun, down on the floor." Before he makes a move, she commands, "Uh-uh. There are two ways this goes down. Either way, you're dropping the gun." Hank points out, "If I give up now, I go to the chair." Calleigh replies, "Ten years of appeals, or you can go right now." Hank drops the gun. Calleigh twists the barrel of hers against his temple and asks, "How's it feel?"
Cut to the triumphant conclusion of She Don't Need No Man's Protection: The Calleigh Duquesne Story. As she tells a cop to book Hank and departs the elevator to get started on the paperwork, Hank claims, "This ain't over, bitch. I'll be seeing you." Calleigh stalks back toward the elevator and replies, "Well, you know what the thing is, Hank? It doesn't really matter if you do, because if you strike me down, I will come back more powerful than you ever imagined." Oh, she doesn't go Jedi on him at all. She points out that the forensic science transcends the investigator. Why can't Horatio be just happening along while she gives that speech? She adds, "By the way -- where you're going? I think you're going to be the bitch." Hagen strolls up for a final scene, and asks where she's been. Calleigh grins, "I took a drive, got some fresh air, apprehended an escaped felon." Oh, she's so alpha Bobwhite now; Speedle and Delko have nothing on her. Hagen watches her saunter off with a "Could I love her any more?" grin on his face.
Meanwhile, we still have twelve minutes to go, and a killer with a vendetta against Horatio to catch. Horatio pops into an interrogation room where Emma's hanging out to ask how Emma's doing, and to offer her something to drink. He then follows up, "A nurse is going to be here in a few minutes, but I was hoping I could ask you a few questions first. Would that be all right?" He really is good with the short set. Wouldn't this have been a much more interesting show if Horatio was a parent and came by his empathy that way, as opposed to having it through apparently divine agency? Anyway, Emma's okay with being asked questions, and Horatio says, "I was looking for you before I found you. Does that make sense?" Emma can grasp that. She tells Horatio that Stewart claimed he was a jail man; Horatio confirms this. She asks, reasonably enough, "If he could get out of jail, could he get in here?" Horatio declines to mention her father's role in Stewart's jailbreak, and assures her that Stewart coming after her here is unlikely. However, it's more than likely that Stewart's now preying on Emma's six-year-old cousin, since Emma gave Stewart the 411 on Robin's school.
Cut to Horatio charging down the hall as (Y)Elena tells him they've located Robin Kaye, and she's on a field trip to the aquarium with her classmates. No doubt Stewart has figured this out using his special child-molester senses. He's even had time to whip up an aquarium-employee uniform.
And then we all stop to admire the mermaids gamboling in the azure depths of aquarium, since it's obvious this episode has moved from any world grounded in reality and headed straight for a magical land far away. Look for Calleigh to ride by on her special friend Hawthorne The Unicorne, who is her slave, who she also loves. And then Speedle will show up in a suit of armor and fight an enchanted dragon, and Delko will trip along wielding his magic sword. I mean -- come on! In the time it took this clown to find out about the field trip and whip up a uniform, he could have driven that RV to a country which doesn't extradite American felons.
Anyway, yes, Stewart is in uniform at the aquarium and stalking Robin. He then turns around and notices Horatio watching him. Horatio's not actually moving to apprehend him or anything, electing instead to just glower. No doubt there's supposed to be some predator/prey thing based on the attention the camera just paid to the shark in the tank, but things are already short-circuiting in my brain from the logical conundrums this episode has presented, and so all I can do is watch as Stewart registers Horatio, then notices (Y)Elena on the other side of his escape route. So he does the predictable: picks up a kid as a hostage and makes for a balcony, all the better to have a dramatic confrontation with Horatio.
Stewart runs up some stairs -- hard to do with a kid under one arm -- and reaches said balcony. Horatio pops up to helpfully point out, "No way out, Stewart. Let her go." Stewart threatens to kill the girl, which does nothing to increase his leverage with Horatio. Horatio tells him, "I'm not going to ask you again. Let her go." Stewart replies, "I love them. I can't do without them." Horatio fails to come around to Stewart's point of view. Just as Stewart makes to throw Robyn off the balcony, Horatio shoots him with such force that Stewart goes rocketing over the edge instead.
There he hangs, dangling in the breeze. After Horatio makes sure Robyn -- who looks pretty mature for a six-year-old -- is okay, and sends her running in the opposite direction, he pulls Stewart up. Stewart's all, "Let me go." Horatio replies, "I wish I could." "I'll just get another one," Stewart replies, with something like despair. Horatio pulls. There's some dramatic back-and-forth, Stewart's up and over, Horatio tackles him and pins him down, and Stewart moans, "Why didn't you let me die?" "Because you died a long time ago," Horatio says. Ah, so he's familiar with Canto 33 of The Inferno, where Dante explains how someone can die and still walk the earth. Or maybe he just gets off on the idea of this guy suffering until he goes to the chair. After (Y)Elena arrests him, Stewart warns, "I will get out. It's my nature." Horatio replies, "And I'll be waiting. It's my nature."
Then there's a scene where (Y)Elena makes eyes at Horatio while she tends to his hand wound, there's some "Will I see you at the booking?" swoonage, and she wanders off to leave Horatio by himself.
And now, the season-ending montage. Speedle and Alexx are stuck doing boring, work-related cleaning jobs while Calleigh gets to shoot at a paper target and Delko gets to run laps. But what of Horatio, you ask? Well, he gets to show us all that he's read his Isak Dinesen. Quoth she, "The cure for everything is salt water -- sweat, tears and the sea," and Horatio's too manly to cry, so he goes to the sea. It's not unlike that notorious picture of Richard Nixon attempting to walk on the beach: Horatio's still fully dressed and washing his hand in the ocean while brooding out over the Atlantic.
Naturally, that's how the season ends -- with Horatio brooding. I want to thank all of you who read the recaps, posted on the forums, and sent me email. I'd also like to offer good-luck wishes to those of you who watch Season Two, as I will not be among your number. So long to CSI: Miami!