The sun is either rising or setting. Miami is bathed in its warm golden glow. Then we are taken to an outlying suburban neighborhood where nearly every back yard has its own in-ground swimming pool. As we get a ground-level view, it's easy to surmise that the residents are blowing all their cash on the pool-cleaning service and not, say, lawn care or even exterior paint. We then see a verbal blotched tabby -- that's the specific name for the swirly pattern of black stripes on his fur, according to my The New Encyclopedia of the Cat, which goes on to explain, "There are four basic types of tabby markings in felines: mackerel or striped; classic or blotched; ticked or Abyssinian; and spotted." The book then goes into great detail explaining the genetics determining coat pattern or lack thereof, but I've already paid more attention to this particular cat than the writers are going to, so we'll skip the lecture on the agouti gene and its varied expression, and let the cat lead us into the A-plot of the week.
Anyway, Max the cat evidently decided it would fun to run from its owners, a couple who are valiantly, if stupidly, chasing the cat onto what looks to be an abandoned property. The male half of the couple -- probably wondering why he's the one to chase after her damn cat, which has never given him the time of day -- wanders into the house where the cat retreated. From the lawn, the woman calls, "Rudy?" Let's get this straight: the cat meows, the man calls for the cat, the woman calls for the man. Who calls for her? Anyway, she's looking wary.
In the kitchen, the cat knocks a piece of glass into the sink. I suddenly feel like I'm recapping my home life. There is one significant difference: the Erlenmeyer flask in the sink evidently prompted a noxious chemical reaction which merrily smokes along while Rudy tries to grab for the cat. Max makes an irritated yowl and runs off-camera, never to be seen again. Would that Rudy were so lucky; within seconds, the poor man is overcome by the fumes.
Out in the non-noxious out-of-doors, the woman calls for Rudy, but gets no answer. That would be because he's currently busy dying a painful and horrible death.
Cut to a sheriff in front of the house, completely not encased in protective gear. Horatio zooms in and parks the Humvee dramatically. Environment be damned -- there are crimes to solve! He and Speedle get out and Speedle sniffs the air, noting, "[I] smell ammonia." Horatio tells him, "That's the least of our problems. Anybody in there died instantly. So let's you and I head toward the death chamber completely unprotected." Amid a backdrop of dramatic coughing, Horatio finds out that the woman was passed out on the porch trying to get to her husband, and a neighbor called the whole thing in. Why nobody else was overcome by the fumes is a mystery for the ages. Speedle confirms that the man is still in there, and the deputy who's giving us all this info says, "I attempted entry --" "But you were driven back by the fumes," says Horatio all judgmentally. First, how much of a jerk do you have to be to regard respiring as an act of weakness? Second, was there any good reason to interrupt? No, there was not. Horatio explains, "This is a clan lab house." All of a sudden, I'm flashing to scientists in white coats and pointy hoods. Speedle clarifies that "clan" in this case does not mean a group of racist idiots, but rather "clandestine," as in a clandestine drug lab; he adds, "There's no telling what's in there." Horatio says, "We'd better figure it out, and we'd better get it contained before more people die."
Roger Daltrey agrees. However, Roger does not question -- as I do -- why nobody's called in the hazmat team already.
After the credits, a biohazard-suit-wearing person walks into the house, and I think for a moment that we just might see something approximating reality. Then I see that it's Horatio in the biohazard suit, so unless he's also heading up the hazmat unit -- not entirely out of the realm of possibility, given this show -- we're apparently not going to be bringing them out to contain a cloud of poisonous gas. After surveying the living room, which is ankle-deep in debris, Horatio decrees that they'll find the source of the poison gas when they find the body. He and Speedle head toward the back of the house. There's a third person there with him, but the camera angle is such that I can't tell who he or she is. So let's just pretend they're not there for now.
Horatio and Speedle head toward the kitchen, which is a food-prep nightmare. It's too bad these occupants were too depressed to properly keep house. We then see poor dead Rudy on the floor. Speedle crouches down and notes, "Foam around the mouth; lack of pallor." So there's a lack of paleness? That seems odd for a dead person. Whatever. Horatio's beginning to put the pieces together, noting the obvious chemical residue in the sink. Speedle says he'll get the Drager, a magical device that crackles and pops as it's waved over the sink. Horatio tells us why: "Nitric acid -- 1800 parts per million." Speedle looks up fearfully and says only, "H?" My God, that's more emotion that he's showed in the last three episodes combined. Horatio explains Speedle's fear to the rest of us: "One hundred parts per million is fatal." Then he flashes back to the events of seven minutes ago: "Chemical residue plus sunlight created fumes in a closed environment, slowly accumulating deadly gas." Then he makes the decision to finally evacuate a one-block radius, what with the house being in danger of blowing up and releasing more deadly fumes. Immediately after Horatio says, "Be careful -- one spark and this place can go," Speedle drops some glassware. He's going to need to change that biohazard suit he's wearing. If I'm watching this scene correctly, then what's happening is this: having established that the house is effectively a giant gas bomb, Horatio and Speedle elect to hang out and collect glassware as evidence, since, you know, the hazmat team isn't around to clear the area for safe evidence-gathering later. Speaking of which: where is the hazmat team? This is Miami-Dade; it's not like they've never faced the problem of drug manufacturing before. Even desert outposts like Temecula, California, have hazmat teams -- how is it possible that Miami's meth-lab protocol begins with the sentence "Call Horatio Caine over in CSI"? ["I believe the sentence fragment 'Caruso's agent' might answer that question." -- Sars]
Before that scene can get any more removed from reality, we're over to the B-plot. Calleigh's having a good hair day but another bad wardrobe day, as she's wearing a fitted top with a peplum -- yes, a peplum -- and ruffles, proving yet again that no woman in the twenty-first century can successfully work a look last used to inflame lust during the Garfield administration. Delko is oblivious. Calleigh comments, "So this is Brackenhurst retirement community." Delko says, "I'd never put my grandmother in a place like this." He may think differently if he becomes her full-time caretaker. He continues, "When she dies, she's going to be in our house, with our priest, surrounded by family." When did Grandma Delekorsky make the trip over? Calleigh comments, "Not my grandma. I want every day for her to be New Year's Eve -- the roads clogged with drunks, amateur partygoers overrunning every venue, the evening filled with regrets and capped off with kissing a complete stranger." Oh, she does not; she wants her nana to spent her golden years in randy drunken deliriousness. Calleigh moves closer and we see that the shirt's got the puffed and gathered sleeves again, and a pallid rose pattern, and well as a high collar that contrasts weirdly with the sexy plunge in front. You just know that in 1882, a woman going out in this was branded a hussy. Then again, she may not have been wearing flared chinos and CHIPs-style sunglasses as well. This entire outfit is like a time capsule of fashion don'ts. Who on this show hates Emily Procter so much and so consistently as to slap the clown makeup and bad clothing on her week in and week out? Anyway, Calleigh and Delko decide that their differing approaches to the last days of their tribal elders can be chalked up to ethnic background (Him: "Southern." Her: "Cuban"), then they lift the crime scene tape and head inside.
The first thing they run into a detective who, while surrounded by a crowd of elderly folks, says, "When I die, I want to go in my sleep." We find out that the deceased is Betty Rosen, age 81, who lived with her sister Pearl. Delko asks, "How bad is it?" and Detective Whoever says, "Massacre." I'm not sure this is the kind of conversation you want to have with spectators milling about. Calleigh and Delko head in; the otherwise tidy, pastel-decorated apartment is indeed liberally splashed with blood. The two then stop at the doorway of the bedroom, where Betty's frail body is lying on its side. We can see the blood pooled in her hand. As the camera shifts perspective so that we see Calleigh and Delko walking into the room, it lingers on Betty's bloodied head. Delko says, "I'll take the one-to-ones," and then we see a slow-motion pan up to Calleigh (makeup report: still caked on) looking around the apartment at each individual blood splotch and imagining Betty's cries at each point of impact. I've got to come up with a name for this kind of effect. Calleigh blinks again and begins putting on her gloves as Delko begins snapping photos of Betty. "She really took a beating," he comments. Thank God the producers decide to show us in a flashback. Calleigh begins rattling off likely reasons: "Home invasion. Sexual predator..." Delko's all, "Maybe we've got a serial." Calleigh scoffs at this. Just then Alexx appears in the door and decrees, "One cold-hearted bastard to prey on the elderly." Delko arches an eyebrow and goes to say something, and Alexx cuts him off with the hand, saying, "Don't give me that look 'cause it's written all over your faces too." Calleigh grins slightly at that.
Alexx then bends to Betty and turns her over. Betty did take a hell of a beating; in addition to the bloody face, both her eyes are blackened. I realize that the elderly bruise easily, but it's still appalling to see. Alexx lifts her to slide up the body bag and notes, "Skull is fractured -- probably blunt force trauma. I'll need to clean her up to see more. Not how you planned to end your golden years, is it, Betty? Ninety-three degrees. Puts her time of death at about 2 AM." Calleigh says, "Blood pools indicate time of attack was earlier." Alexx shows that she knows how to delegate with, "Your job, honey. Mine begins with death." Cue the science montage: the most noteworthy details are the broken glass in the lawn outside Betty's window, and the piece of paper submerged in a large pool of blood in the kitchen area. Delko lifts out the paper and carefully sets it on a cardboard sheet: "Must be important to somebody."
The whirring of a large fan brings us back to the A-plot. So let me get this straight: when the Miami hazmat unit finally shows up, their strategy is to blow the fumes out of the house and into the general atmosphere? No wonder they called Horatio first. We see Speedle collecting evidence; even when shrouded in a hazmat suit, he manages to convey disgruntled disarray. It's a gift. Horatio's right there with him, in one of the rare instances when that "let's do XYZ" actually involves the first-person plural. I imagine they'll hold a small ceremony to commemorate this occasion once the evidence is all bagged. Horatio, who's still waving around the crackling Drager, tells us all that the nitric acid's down to three parts per million, so it's now safe to bring in the ME's people.
Sure enough, the scene is that of an ME -- no head, no ID, no nothing -- strapping the body into a stretcher and wheeling it off. Speedle's got the hood off his hazmat suit now, and he comments, "Crisis averted." How? Because the Air Elves miraculously scrubbed the environment? Anyway, Horatio's all, "Tell that to his widow. No, wait. I will. I am the Grief Whisperer. It is my job, as protector of all Miami, to bear the burdens of her people." Or maybe he stops after that first sanctimonious sentence. Speedle just lets it roll off his back and says, "So we've gotta find something to lead us to this cook, right?" Horatio agrees that they do. He asks, "If I'm the cook, what do I need to do my job?" Speedle replies, "You need goggles, a mask --" "And latex gloves," Horatio says, finding one. They bag and tag it.
Outside, Sevilla tells Horatio -- who really should avoid the biohazard-suit-and-tee look and stick with the button-down shirts -- that she's got the landlord, James Wilmont, and they'll talk to him back at CSI headquarters. Within seconds, Horatio is much better dressed and hanging with Sevilla at CSI while Wilmont explains how he and a group of fellow doctors are Diamond Sun Properties, and they rent out houses: "We're dermatologists. There are three of us. My partner just removed a carcinoma from my back, as a matter of fact." Horatio asks if Wilmont uses gloves; Wilmont answers yes. Sevilla asks if she can look around his practice, and he grins, "You be my guest." Horatio interrupts to ask, "When was the last time the house on Mangrove was rented?" Wilmont looks reflective as he says, "I believe that house has been vacant for six months. Renters skipped out on us, it's right there in the records I brought for you." Horatio comments, "I've been taking a look at these and the rent seems very cheap for this part of town." Wilmont replies, "Well, I don't make money if the houses are unoccupied." Horatio then swings into interrogation mode: "This one was occupied, though, wasn't it? A man died in it?" Was he paying rent? Then he wasn't really occupying it. That's a terrible transition, Horatio.
Wilmont really doesn't give a hoot what happened to poor Rudy. He smiles ruefully and replies, "Well, I can't help what tenants do in my house, just like I can't help what happens in my houses when tenants leave. I mean, it's an investment." How, in a country where homeowners can be sued for negligence when a burglar breaks his leg, can this be legally possible? Wouldn't this guy automatically be responsible for what happened on his property, regardless of whether or not he knew about it? Why isn't anyone in law enforcement bringing up this legal fine point? Horatio points out that it's not a very well-maintained investment. Wilmont says flippantly, "I am guilty of not taking care of my investment." "And possibly negligent homicide," Horatio adds. Wilmont asks, "Are you arresting me?" Horatio replies, "Not yet." Wilmont replies, "time, I'll bring my lawyer." Horatio shoots back, "time, you'll need one." Then they whip out their penises and measure to see whose is bigger.
We're back at the B-plot, and what does it say about Horatio when I'm actually relieved to be recapping the part of the episode where we find out exactly how injured Betty is? Alexx is standing over her on the autopsy table and explaining, "Extent of the ecchymosis suggests she lived several hours after she sustained her injuries. Confirmed blunt force trauma, skull fracture, subdural hematoma. No clear weapon; could have been anything. Tox report indicates a therapeutic level of Cumadin." Delko comments, "Blood thinner. That could explain the excessive blood loss. Was she on any other medication?" Alexx replies, "No. Right arm and both hands are broken." Delko speculates, "Poor thing -- she tried to fight him off." Alexx point out, "Eighty-one-year-old woman: doesn't take much to break her bones. Tissue sections confirmed neurofibrilliary tangles." We then get the TMICam shot of the brain, its electrical currents, and what happens when those tissues get tangled. Delko says in surprise, "She had Alzheimer's." Alexx adds, "Late stages." And this is the point where my eyebrows shoot up in surprise and begin orbiting the area immediately around my head. If Betty was late-stage Alzheimer's and residing in an assisted-living facility, there's no way she would have been left on her own for the period of time necessary for the manner of death she suffered; typically, late-stage patients are moved into full-time care and monitored near constantly, as they can be dangerous or frightening to others, and a hazard to themselves. But we skip right out the question of what a late-stage Alzheimer's patient was doing living in relative autonomy, and move on the gratuitously sordid portion of the case. Alexx points out, "Diagnosing rape is tricky. Muscles have atrophied; skin is less elastic. I'll collect a sexual assault kit."
Meanwhile, Speedle's stuck in the middle of a science montage. That makes two in under five minutes. Not that I'm complaining. Horatio comes in to tell us that Rudy's postmortem is done -- it's death by asphyxiation due to nitric acid fumes. Horatio adds, "The question becomes, what was the nitric acid used for?" Speedle interjects, "I gotta tell you, I'm having a lot of trouble with this." Horatio offers moral support in the form of, "Hang in there." thing you know, he'll be bringing in a poster with a kitten dangling from a tree and that same sentiment. In the here-and-now, Horatio's discovered the presence of sulfuric acid. He then goes over to the clear board -- it's transparent because it's cooler than a regular blackboard -- and shows us all his beautiful mind and his grasp of the composition of sulfuric acid (H2SO4). Just then Speedle announces that he's got a little something in the meth family. Horatio mutters, "This doesn't compute, does it?" Speedle shoots back, "Now you know what I've been doing. These aren't components of any drug I know." Horatio replies, "But they should give us the final product, MDP2P?" Speedle fills him in: "Methylene-dioxy-phenyl-2-propanone. It's not really a recreational drug. It's not really anything." Horatio speculates, "Maybe that means he didn't mean to make it. Go with me a second here, grasshopper. Now if you sub in formic acid for nitric acid, you get Ecstasy, don't you?" I guess you do: the folks haven't seen fit to show us the formula, and I have a feeling doing the research on it myself -- and giving y'all the how-to -- might not be the smartest use of my time, so let's just take everyone's word for it. Speedle concludes that the cook screwed up. Horatio adds, "The pills were white; he figured he could still sell them as X." Grasshopper explains, "So when he replaces one ingredient along the chemical pathway to try and make something legal --" Sensei concludes, "Yes, he did, and ended up making a chemical so powerful that its fumes could kill human beings." Grasshopper asks, "So what are we chasing -- the fumes or the pills?" Sensei Horatio replies, "We're chasing the cook."
Back at Brackenhurst, Calleigh's talking to Betty's sister Pearl. We establish that Pearl and Betty lived together, and Pearl tells Calleigh, "We take care of each other." Calleigh, who's wearing a transparent peach top with still more gathered, puffy sleeves (these are short) in yet another attempt to whip us all into a nostalgic frenzy for clothing c. 1983, asks, "But the night she died...?" Pearl tells us, "I was in Coral Gables, with friends. It got late. I can't drive at night. I told her I didn't want to go, she said, 'Go out, have some fun.'" Calleigh's clearly torn between trying to sympathize with the old woman and trying to remain professionally detached. She asks, "Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt Betty?" Pearl says, "Oh, no. She was voted the most popular. Everyone loves her, especially the men. You look a lot like her. She loved to wear her hair long down her back. Just like you." Calleigh suddenly gets all businesslike: "Did anybody know she was alone that night?" Like, say, a paid caregiver? A nurse? Someone who knows that late-stage Alzheimer's patients plus unsupervised time often equals trouble? Pearl replies, "Everybody. Betty never could keep a secret." Calleigh just looks at Pearl, perhaps thinking of all the differences between herself and Betty.
We leave Golden Negligence Retirement Village for the lab, where Speedle is coming in and apologizing to Horatio for his tardiness, explaining, "I got jammed up on the causeway." Without looking up from the bench, Horatio says, "No worries. Pam again?" Speedle looks over and asks, "How'd you know?" Horatio points out, "You've got the same clothes on you had on yesterday." Oh, there's just so much wrong with this scene -- where do I start? With the horrifying implication that Speedle's comfortable chatting about his sex life with Horatio? Or with the dismaying realization that the man hasn't gotten to the point where he's smart enough to shove a fresh shirt and skivvies in his bag so he can fake sartorial competency? Since it's Speedle, the shirt doesn't even have to be unwrinkled -- just make sure you're equipped for a sleepover. Speedle quickly changes the subject with, "So is that glass from the clan house?" It sure is. There's nothing on it, but Horatio was about to superglue the glove -- a process that requires a closed glass chamber -- and he graciously lets Speedle do the work instead. Speedle asks, "Did they have powdered gloves when you were coming up?" Horatio replies, "No powdered gloves, no cell phones, no DNA." Speedle can't fathom the idea of a life without cell phones. Just then, the appearance of a fingerprint saves us all from a lecture on the history of wireless communication technologies. The two men then take the print over to AFIS.
In the scene, Sevilla and Horatio are watching AFIS crank away, and she's telling him, "I can tell you who it won't be...dermo doctor uses powder-free gloves, it's a different company than our discard, and they buy by the case. Bulk." Horatio asks, "Then why do I like [Wilmont] so much?" His devil-may-care smile? His entrepreneurial vigor? The way he lights up a room? Sevilla notes that AFIS likes someone named Gregory Kimble instead. "Who is this?" Horatio asks. The bad-seed younger brother of Richard Kimble, maybe?
We're about to find out, as Horatio's now somberly saying, "Mr. Kimble, let's talk about the trash drugs you've been cooking." Kimble, who looks like your typical unwashed slacker except for the red upper lip, counters, "I don't know what you're talking about." Nor does he know about the house over on Mangrove. Horatio explains, "The problem is, we recovered your fingerprint over there." Gregory replies, "I party a lot. I might have ended up over there one night." Horatio says, "Fair enough. You wear sunscreen?" Gregory says, "Everyone in Miami does. Why?" Horatio explains, "Well, you have some very interesting burn damage above your mouth and under your nose. Sometimes, it can be from a chemical burn, right?" "You bet," Sevilla says. I love how she smiles when she says it; I have a feeling that if there were ever a crossover, she and Brass would get along like a house on fire. We get a flashback as to how Gregory might have gotten the burn, and then Horatio says, "You're my cook, aren't you?" "Cook?" Gregory replies, doing a credible enough impression of an idiot as to raise doubts over his ability to make a bowl of Ramen, much less a complex chemical compound. He then adds, "I'm a part-time student." Horatio asks if Gregory has a job; he does not. Sevilla says, "DMV records show that you drive around in a brand-new convertible [Lexus]. Why don't you do yourself a favor and tell us who's selling this stuff once you put it into pill form?" Gregory says, "I think I want my attorney." "After we process you," snaps Sevilla. Horatio adds, "I'm going to need your clothes too." Gregory, who clearly thinks he can weasel out of this by pleading modesty, snottily asks, "What am I going to wear?" Sevilla slides down a collection of prisonwear.
Off in another part of the building, Delko pushes open a door and greets a tech with, "Laura! It's been a while. Welcome back." Laura replies, "A year at Quantico's enough. Can't take that weather." Delko asks, "How was the night life?" Laura pretends to think for a moment and replies, "Government compound, 95 percent male...hurt me." As it turns out, MaBell lives on the very edge of Quantico (like, when they do weapons testing, the house shakes) and works on base; according to her, watching the local wildlife includes watching "those buff young jarheads run around." So, yeah, Quantico's no Miami, but for some of us, it's home. Delko asks if there's anything on his victim, and Laura tells him the sexual assault kit was positive, but semen was aspermic, so the perp probably had a vasectomy. We also find out that the time -- eight to twelve hours before Betty died -- is consistent with the timeline they've constructed. Laura says she'll run DNA, and Delko thanks her.
He then flags Calleigh down to tell her that Neglectful Golden Acres has a low crime rate; the safety is actually a selling point. Delko adds, "I ran the names of registered sex offenders within a three-mile radius of the complex. Name popped up." The name in question is Keith Sewell, and he's on parole for rape. Delko asks, "Guess where he works?" I'm too distracted looking at the back of Calleigh's blouse -- we can now see the back, and it includes a fabric self-belt at the waist, and another little peplum composed of pleats -- to immediately answer.
Cut to Keith irritably saying, "You hauled me in 'cause my prints were on the window? Talk to the manager -- she has me change that glass a couple times a month." Delko asks why that's necessary, and Keith tells him, "Mrs. Rosen liked to break it. Of course, she was a little light in the head, if you know what I mean." Calleigh says flatly, "She suffered from Alzheimer's." Keith replies, "Yeah? She told me, uh, her parents wouldn't let her date, so she had to sneak out to meet her boyfriend." Keith then leans in and catches Calleigh's eye before saying, "And for the record, I don't do old women. Nothing over twenty-five." Heh. Something tells me he'd fit right in at Oz, at least for the three episodes it would take before Ryan O'Reily arranged for his death. Calleigh bats her eyes and replies, "A convicted rapist with standards." Delko steps in with, "Mr. Sewell, have you ever had a vasectomy?" Keith's expression speaks volumes about that idea, but he adds, "No one's snipping on me." Calleigh, who's looking down again, says, "We can get a court order to verify --" Keith stands up and yanks down his fly, saying, "I'll verify right now." Oh, he's definitely Oz material. Delko immediately bristles and commands, "Hey! Sit down." Keith does, and Calleigh tells him a mouth swab will suffice.
Back at the A-plot, Horatio's futzing with an extremely large piece of lab equipment, and Speedle comes in to perform the geek equivalent of automotive drooling: "An XRF! These things cost two hundred and fifty grand. When did we get this?" "This morning, courtesy of the ATF," Horatio replies. Speedle then explains to the viewers at home what an XRF is and why we should care: "So the X-ray allows us to examine Greg Kimble's shirt for chemicals." Horatio replies, "Exactly right, and zero in on areas we can then extract from. Now, Mr. Kimble claims he has no job and no legitimate access to chemicals, right?" Speedle concludes, "So if we find chemicals on his clothing, we can link him to the drug lab. But...didn't we already do that with the print and the glove?" Horatio tells him they did, but "like my old man says, 'You didn't have a backup, you didn't have a plan.'" His old man? His website bio goes on about how he was raised by a plucky single mother. Then again, his website bio does not mention his dead brother, so for all we know, Horatio may well come from a clan of preternaturally smart law enforcement types. Anyway, Horatio finds high amounts of carbon, nitrogen, and phosphorous, and those match the components found in the residue at the clan house. The two guys both think Kimble's a liar. Speedle is then dispatched to back up Horatio's findings via mass spec; in a nod to his conversation with Horatio, he says sarcastically, "I'll call you on your cell phone," and winks.
Horatio wanders off, just in time to lose his cool as Gregory gets let go by the state's attorney; Sevilla directs him to the attorney (cooling his heels in Horatio's office), and after Horatio bellows, "He stays put until I say so," he heads to his office. At this point, I'm actively rooting for a crossover episode, because I totally want to see how Gil would react to Horatio's way of doing things.
Apparently, Horatio's way of doing things includes wild mood swings, as he's now cool as a cucumber and explaining that he's got Gregory dead to rights as the cook. The attorney, Dante, isn't quite on board: "You can't place him at the lab." Horatio talks over him, "Of course I can -- I recovered his fingerprint there from a latex glove." "At a party house. That only proves he was there," Dante says. "Wearing latex gloves," Horatio doggedly replies. Well, maybe it was a costume party house. Horatio also points out, "The fumes from his trash already killed somebody. He may be selling lethal pills." Dante says, "You know that Florida statute 893.03 has a specific list of controlled substances. Even if we could put him there, he wasn't making anything illegal." Horatio thinks this over and says, "Okay. So. You get to turn him loose, and I get to send the victim's wife a sympathy card." He says that like it pains him; we all know better. Horatio's in his glory when he's the Grief Whisperer. Horatio then says, "Talk about your déjà vu." And suddenly this plotline is all about Horatio. Surprise! Dante says, "Your brother was a good cop. This has nothing to do with him." Horatio notes, "Interesting that you bring this up." Dante tells him to let it go. Yeah, good luck with that. When pushed as to why it's a good idea for Horatio to let it go, Dante says, "It's in the best interests of this case." "And in my best interests too, is that what you're saying?" Horatio presses. Dante exits with, "Those are your words, not mine. Let it go."
Horatio doesn't really let it go so much as he decides to attack it from a different angle. The day, he hooks up with Speedle, who tells him, "I got in early this morning and, uh, check out [Wilmont's] real estate holdings. Wilmont and his partner own a dozen homes in those neighborhoods." Those neighborhoods are, according to Horatio, "dangerous neighborhoods, landlocked, near freeways, under the radar." Speedle also says he talked to a guy from DEA, "[who] says a clan lab can make five hundred grand in cash." You'd think I'd be used to hearing "clan lab" by this point, but you'd be wrong; every time, I keep expecting it to be staffed by David Duke and conducting experiments proving that mixing chemicals is unacceptable. Anyway, Horatio thinks Wilmont's pulling down about six million by this point, compliments Speedle on his work, and then barks, "Adell! Adell, Horatio. Road trip!" into his cell.
Tragically, this road trip lacks the comedic antics of Seann William Scott and Tom Green. It's Horatio, Sevilla, and Speedle finding Gregory Kimble hauling chemicals into another one of Wilmont's houses. As Speedle checks the van for chemicals, Horatio muses, "So we've got a new location." In the van, Speedle's found extremely large containers of lye, ammonia, and methanol. Horatio concludes that Gregory's masters must have given him a new formula; he adds, "I guess one death in the neighborhood is enough." Sevilla reassures Speedle, "If you hang tight, I'll get you a warrant for that stuff." Gregory says, "Ahhhhh...it's not against the law to have those chemicals." He really is a moron. Sevilla snaps the phone shut and says, "No, it's not. Really brilliant operation Dr. Wilmont has going on here. He provides the house, the chemicals and the recipe, he pays off a couple of cooks like you with luxe cars. That's peanuts to the guys who sling these pills -- pills so unusual there's not a law against it, but at the end of the day, he and his partners split about six million bucks." Gregory corrects her with, "It's not six million." Horatio promptly and properly jumps on his with, "This is where you say, 'I don't know any Dr. Wilmont.'" Just then Sevilla's phone rings; it's Plot Contrivance, and he's getting impatient. Sevilla waves him on by telling everyone that the ME's just picked up a nineteen-year-old kid who's overdosed on E. Horatio comments, "Nineteen years old. Nice going." Gregory looks stunned to discover that teenagers take drugs.
Meanwhile, in a salsa class filled with people who are doing their best to convey great age and declining health, an instructor is bouncing around and encouraging everyone, "That's right, you guys -- feel the music! We're all Britney Spears at heart!" This was the point where I paused the episode and asked the cats, "Do you think that comment counts as elder abuse?" The class is only there to underscore what kind of community Betty was living in, as Calleigh (mercifully, wearing a t-shirt) and Delko (chronically underbuttoned shirt) walk by with the manager, who's explaining, "Sewell lied on his application, but he didn't lie about the window. Betty had some good days and she had some bad days." Delko says, "Yeah, we heard that she thought she had a boyfriend." And then this alleged elder care professional laughs, "Boyfriend -- try boyfriends. This place is high school with arthritis and Betty is hot stuff." Cut to Calleigh and Delko interviewing Betty's assorted boyfriends. Boyfriend #1 says to Calleigh, "Betty was a lot of fun -- she and I had a very healthy sexual relationship -- she was not afraid to try new things." Betty was also the world's most atypical Alzheimer's patient on the planet. One of the signs of advanced Alzheimer's is a spike in social isolation and disengagement, i.e. a refusal to make eye contact or acknowledge when anyone is speaking. I had a great-aunt die from the disease in the last year, and I've got a great-uncle in the throes of it, and when I visited him and his caretaker in November, he spent the entire time trembling and nodding at nothing in particular, and that, I was told, was one of his good days when he was calm and tractable.
Assuming that Betty a) had advanced Alzheimer's, and b) was having sex raises, in my mind, two issues. The first is that she didn't have Alzheimer's but senile dementia -- the socialization patterns are different, even though mental faculties like short- and long-term memory are diminished. For example, my nana has senile dementia, and while she can't remember how I'm related to her, she's still quite the charming conversationalist and social butterfly in her assisted-living facility. The second issue, and the more serious one, is the ethical implication of sleeping with an Alzheimer's patient, as it raises the question of whether or not the patient would be able to give informed consent for the activity, and it raises the issue of what obligation a caretaking facility has to ensure that its residents are protected from one another. But I'm actually treating this whole plot twist as if the people who wrote it bothered to put some time and effort into this story, as opposed to simply going for "randy old people are funny! And they introduce a red herring into the investigation!" angle. While Delko talks to an elderly gent who introduces the Pearl-killed-Betty-for-her-money idea, Calleigh talks to one of Betty's most recent exes, a Mr. Gaines who happens to have ice plant stuck in his shoe -- and the ice plant happens to match the foliage outside Betty's window. Calleigh whips out the glove for a DNA sample.
Back in the A-plot, Horatio and Alexx are hanging out in the morgue as Alexx slices open the overdose. She fills in, "Nineteen years young. Detective said he just got accepted into Vanderbilt Busy School, working toward a pilot's license. Flew solo for the first time yesterday. Went out last night to celebrate with friends. They say he took one tab of E. When he didn't get high, took a handful. Collapsed at a club called Fate." They both chuckle, and Horatio adds, "And the devil laughed." And the FAA sighed in relief -- I don't know about y'all, but the idea of anyone addled on Ecstasy in the cockpit fills me with trepidation. I'd expect him to crash the plane because he was too busy hugging the copilot to bother steering. Alexx and Horatio get down to stomach contents, and Alexx reassures him, "Analysis will determine if it's MDP2P." Horatio comments, "I'm hoping that one or two of the pills didn't dissolve before he expired." Alexx asks, "You're hoping for a stamp?" "Call me crazy," Horatio replies. That wasn't the first adjective on my list, but I'll take an opening when it presents itself: crazy! Crazy! Crazy! Fortunately, Alexx produces a pill, and -- surprise, surprise -- it's a diamond sun. "'Please allow me to introduce myself,'" Horatio quips, before complimenting Alexx on her forceps skills and taking off.
As it turns out, Horatio's collecting Speedle, who asks, "If you found a pill with Wilmont's company stamp on it, why are you going to see the cook again?" "Because he's weak. Wilmont is the target, but Kimble is our ammunition," replies Horatio. Off they go to load their weapons, so to speak.
While those two are off on another Sensei-Grasshopper Humvee ride, Delko and Calleigh are putting together their case. Delko talks about the incredible amount of gossip coming out of the place, which makes it hard to separate hearsay from fact. Calleigh adds that Keith Sewell's alibi checks out, so he's out as a suspect, and that Betty's harem gave up their clothes for samples way too easily. Calleigh says in exasperation, "You saw the blood in the condo -- there is no way a killer is getting out of there without getting bloody." The two of them run down all the false leads -- the boyfriends whose stories check out -- and conclude that they're stumped. "It's a dead end," Calleigh sighs. Delko gazes deep into her baby blues, then gets inspiration.
Remember that piece of paper submerged in a pool of blood? It's time to see what it says. Delko and Calleigh peel off the bigger patches, then soak the paper in some sort of solvent that dissolves the rest, and finally get a readable document. Calleigh puts it on the light table, and we read:
It was great that you called on Friday. I was just back from my trip to Hawaii and I stopped by the office to pick up any upcoming work. I was able to draft the amendment to your will over the weekend. I'm sure you would be happy to know that all things will be in good hands. We have made the changes you asked for and it is a done deal. Don't worry about this amendment any further. The amendment will read as follows: This is to inform you the Codicil to your will has been completed and signed and is effective as of Nov. . I hope this will put a smile on your face as we put this will to rest.
Delko laughs, since this means Leo Kling -- the guy he was talking to by the pool -- was right about Betty changing her will. Calleigh insists, "Pearl Abrams did not kill her sister." Delko shoots back, "Yeah, well, somebody did."
And now, we go back to the Miami version of The Weakest Link. It turns out he's also the newly dead link, as Horatio notices Kimble slumped over in his car. "Paging Dr. Wilmont," he says darkly. He and Speedle continue to look down at the body, and Horatio notes, "Cluster wounds, right on the money." "He didn't even have time to fight back," Speedle says. Horatio gives another lesson in crime-scene reading by replying, "That's right -- because he was sitting with somebody he trusted, wasn't he? You know what? Get the Bullard." I love how these guys just whip out these gadgets whenever the mood strikes; no doubt, one of these days, Horatio's going to be all, "Speed, get my magic wand and fairy dust," and Speedle will.
thing we know, Speedle's waving around something that looks like a Black & Decker handsaw and telling Horatio about the relatively recent body heat imprint on the seat. They're able to determine that the murderer braced himself for the stabbing, based on the strength of the heat imprint in the legs relative to the rest of the body, and they find a big blank spot in the back. Horatio looks at the square and says, "What the hell is that?" Speedle replies that he's going to take the image back to the AV lab and try to enhance it.
Back at the B-plot, Delko and Calleigh -- who, by the way, have quite an enjoyable working chemistry -- are in Betty's bedroom. Delko's crouching on the floor and Calleigh's pacing around, saying, "When you've eliminated all the suspects and the evidence doesn't make sense, it's nice to put it in context." Delko begins thinking out loud: "We know all this blood is Betty Rosen's." Calleigh replies, "So we reevaluate the 'how' to get us to the 'who.'" Or go back to minute three of this episode, when you segued to the credits. Anyway, Delko and Calleigh proceed to string the apartment, mapping each blood spatter in an effort to create a tangible map to find the point of origin. Then they walk it:
Delko: Spatter starts high.
Calleigh: Consistent with beginning of attack. Blunt force object -- the countertop.
Delko: Right. Now, she turned and fell, laying here for a while where she created this blood pool. At some point she got up, moved down the hallway, to here.
Calleigh: Another blow area. Blood smears here.
Delko: There's another spatter pattern here on the table, where, again, she fell to the ground.
Calleigh: Making another pool of blood.
Delko: [walking into the bedroom] The spatter in this room radiates in a complete circle.
Calleigh: Leaving no space for anyone else to be in the room.
Delko: All this blood...unable to move...I guess she laid there until she died.
So if what we've seen is really how these two have solved the case, poor Betty somehow fell into the countertop, then turned into a octogenarian pinball who managed to bounce off every hard surface in the apartment before bleeding to death on her floor. What a way to go.
As for the more recently departed, we're in the AV lab, watching Speedle tell Horatio that the stabber was very recently in the car with Kimble, as there was only a three-degree difference in residual body heat temperatures in the car. The two of them brood over the rectangle that impeded heat absorption on the passenger side, and then Horatio figures out it's the bandages from a recent carcinoma removal. Wilmont's so busted!
In the scene, we see the thermal print from the car seat as compared to the thermal print off Wilmont's back as he sits in the interrogation room. They match, big time. Horatio is more than happy to tell Wilmont and his lawyer, "Catching your cancer has become your undoing...this is a thermal image that places your client in the murder vehicle." The lawyer blah-dee-blahs about the altruistic circumstances under which Wilmont was in the car, and nobody bothers to pretend to believe her. Horatio whips out Exhibit B, i.e. the pill with the diamond sun logo, and the lawyer pleads ubiquity. The minute the lawyer points out that the evidence doesn't tie Wilmont to Kimble's murder, Sevilla asks, "How about his knife? We know he carries one for protection." This is the moment where we learn that Wilmont should have hired a better attorney, as Wilmont whips out the knife with traces of blood on it. Horatio promptly hands it over to Speedle for digital pictures.
Poor Calleigh, in the meantime, is the one who has to break the results of the investigation to Pearl, who asks, "An accident? How can it be?" Calleigh assures her, "We are so sorry, Pearl." Delko steps in, "Pearl, may we, uh, ask about Betty's will?" Pearl asks, "What will?" Calleigh explains, "Betty changed her will and set up a trust commencing at the time of her death." "For who?" Pearl asks. "For you. You'll be well cared for now," Calleigh says. Okay -- why would Delko have to ask about this? Presumably, Calleigh would have told him. Anyway, Pearl says, "She always did take care of me. I'm the youngest." She turns to Delko -- who, if shows are anything to go on, is also the baby of the family. Pearl then turns back to Calleigh to say, "You look a lot like her. She loved to wear her hair long down her back. Just like you." And this plot ends with Calleigh and Delko exchanging glances and realizing that Pearl may be beginning to slip a little too.
Horatio, meanwhile, is taking all sorts of pictures of Kimble's stab wounds as Speedle photographs the knife. Surprise, surprise: the hilt shape matches the stab patterns on the wound. Horatio breaks the news to Wilmont and his lawyer with no small amount of satisfaction. He then warmly thanks Wilmont for handing over the knife that will lead to a negligent homicide charge, a not-so-negligent homicide charge, and who knows what for the OD. Wilmont takes this all in without changing expression, which, in my opinion, is like the most effective anti-Botox moment ever, as it demonstrates the creepy expressionlessness that the excessively treated get after a while. And it's not even good Botox, since Wilmont's sporting a set of forehead furrows.
Anyway, Horatio thanks him, then heads out the door to return the focus of this case to its rightful place, i.e. him. After a conversation with Alexx where he's all, "For me, it is all about the victims, especially the ones who die too young, too soon" (causing me and Mr. Sobell to sing, "Liiii-ar! Liiii-ar! Liiii-ar!") before going off to brood at his brother's graveside, leaving us all to wonder when we're going to be treated to the episode about how Raymond Caine died too young, too soon. According to his gravestone (10/24/68 -- 03/18/93), Raymond was only twenty-four when he died, so you know that story's coming sooner or later. And when it does, Horatio will be there to brood over it.