They say that when somebody dies, a crow is there to escort their soul to heaven. But sometimes, something terrible happens and the soul can't move on until it's been to Las Vegas and had some $4.99 surf 'n' turf on the north end of the strip. Or maybe it heads out to the mountains surrounding Las Vegas. At least, that's the impression we're getting from the crow's-eye cam as it swoops toward its nest in the cool twilight. Sorry, y'all: no grown men wearing the leather pants and trying to deliver J. O'Barr lines with a straight face underneath the mime makeup. Instead, we get grown men in outdoors camouflage. None of them are wearing reflective safety vests, however, so they're not hunters; therefore, the line, where a burly man with a crew cut says, "I think I've got a good shot!" doesn't quite set off the irony meter. The three birders snap pictures and get ornithologically geeky; the guy in the middle spots the crow -- excuse me, a raven -- and says, "Corvus corax!" His fellow birders pooh-pooh his find -- clearly, they're not up on their mythology and the raven's prominent role therein -- but things get a lot more interesting when they note that the bird has a human eyeball in its beak. Shocked into synchronicity, all three men put down their binoculars and long-range lenses in a fluid motion, so we can see them gape.
Cut to a shot of an intact human eyeball. The camera zooms back, and we see Gil giving the eyeball to the eyeball. He comments to Catherine, "Well, someone's missing a contact lens." The camera zooms back so we can see that Gil's standing on a ladder and peering into the nest; Catherine's on the other side of the ladder. We see that she's got the curly hair again -- either the hairdresser's determining how Catherine wears her hair via a roulette wheel, or this episode was shot during Catherine's curly period -- and a beret. Few women can work a beret; Catherine's one of them. Gil tells her, "Ravens, like eagles, have been known to travel thirty miles from roost to feeding ground." Catherine adds, "Thirty miles in every direction." I'd like to point out that neither party is mocking the other for their aviary esoterica; I guess the comments about the Discovery Channel are reserved exclusively for Nicky. Hmmph. Catherine does some quick math -- "pi-r-squared...that means we're looking at a 2800-mile search area." Gil responds to this display of mental calculation by breaking out the Poe: "Once upon a midnight dreary/While I pondered weak and weary/Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore --" Catherine cuts this Bartlett's moment short with, "We're up a tree and you're quoting Poe." It could be worse, Catherine. He could be reciting "Ulalume." Gil shows her what's what by paraphrasing the poem with, "Quoth the raven, only this and nothing more."
And as we breach Night's Plutonian shore, The Who takes us to credits.
It's still night when we return to Las Vegas, but Gil's oblivious to the external world. It's time for him to examine the eyeball, which has several long tendons and muscles still attached to it. Gil places it in a petri dish and takes pictures. We get a flashback to the moment of removal -- yum! -- and then we see Gil removing the contact lens in slow motion. Gil then injects a syringe into the eye with a wet, squishy sound and pulls out some of the vitreous humor. I'm sure we're supposed to be all grossed out by the close-in shots of a syringe going into an eye and pulling out goop, but since it's not like Gil is doing this to an eye still attached to anyone's living, breathing self, it kind of loses its impact. After Gil's done with the eyeball, we watch Catherine take apart the raven's nest, amusing herself as she pulls out item after item. Gil comes in and tells Catherine, "You'll be pleased to know the eyeball was only slightly desiccated." Catherine asks about the iris, and Gil tells her it's still blue; Catherine replies that color distinction means the body's been dead less than 48 hours. Gil knows this, of course, and mentions in passing that he's sent some vitreous fluid to tox and some to DNA. He then asks Catherine, "Can you get me an eye for an eye?" Oh, wait -- that was only in the closed captioning. Those of us who listened to the episode as well as watching it witnessed Gil ask Catherine for nest info. Catherine picks at assorted bits and pieces, and then she and Gil go into a discussion of the types of feathers the raven used to line its nest and make it warm. They're seagull feathers. Gil immediately pegs Lake Mead, and Catherine reminds him that's only the case when the fishing's good. Catherine adds that the Lake Mead hypothesis is null, what with the ground limestone they've found in the nest too. Gil the bug doctor then continues to lecture on birds: "Ravens are incredibly intelligent; they have a brain capacity comparable to dolphins." How much do I wish Nicky had been around for this so he can ask when Gil got so smart about the birds, and why it's somehow okay for him to break out the ornithology but not Nicky. Catherine's not down with measuring intelligence via organized communication or creative problem-solving. Instead, she says, "It means she knew where to shop. We found the eye here [at Floyd Lamb State Park]. I'm thinking that she shopped here [at Pendale Land Fill] where limestone is used as ground cover."
And now, a flock of ravens is seen flying in intricate patterns overhead. They say when -- oh, screw it. We go from the flying ravens to flying rubbish as garbage trucks disgorge their cargo. Off-screen, Sara busts out the trivia with, "You know the average Nevadan generates three times more waste than the average American?" We see Sara -- in blue coveralls and hard hat, just like Nicky and Catherine -- walking toward the pile. Nicky adds some context to Sara's number by pointing out that they're factoring in tourist-generated trash -- all thirteen million pounds of it per day. Sara adds that she went to a recycling forum in March. Good for her. Catherine gets back to the here and now, pinpointing the area in which a body would have been likely to have been dumped within the time of death. Nicky watches the refuse shower down and says, "Man! You find the best evidence in the nastiest places!" Sara comments, "You are what you throw away -- it's like peeling an onion into people's lives." Think about that the time you throw away your bank statement without shredding it first.
Back in the lab, David the All-Seeing Coroner is standing in front of a series of lighted x-ray films that could double as Phoebe Glockner illustrations, telling Gil, "The electrolyte and glucose levels in the eye were normal. That means your victim wasn't dehydrated or diabetic. Other than that..." "We're flying blind," Gil finishes. That man's remorseless once a pun's in sight. Gil then strides off, exhibiting enough social skills to recognize Emergency Backup David as the younger man stands over a body to begin autopsy. Emergency Backup David returns the greeting with, "Hey, Gris." The informality causes Gil to screech to a halt and fix Emergency Backup David with a glare. Emergency Backup David quails for a moment -- the poor guy tries so hard to connect with the CSIs on their level and consistently misses the mark -- then pulls back the sheet to recite, "Thirty-five-year-old guy, car salesman, dropped dead at work [of an] apparent heart attack. Not under the care of a physician. Uh, no history of high blood pressure. Just a routine autopsy." Not a bad recovery -- only a little shaky on delivery, and given that Gil is visibly trying to summon the ability to shoot beams of fire out of his pupils, "a little shaky" is understandable. Gil grins from the nostrils down, and then his face does relax and he winks a little -- I had to rewind and rewatch twice to confirm that it was intentional and not a facial tic or figment of my imagination -- before saying, "Go for it." Emergency Backup David realizes that Gil isn't going to humiliate him in front of his boss -- or worse, in front of any of the women he works with -- and calls over David the All-Seeing Coroner to supervise him as he does the autopsy.
David the All-Seeing Coroner swoops over and whips out the tape recorder, noting, "Case 03-615, postmortem exam of an adult. Caucasian male, identified as Fred Stearns. Body received warm to the touch; rigor mortis not present. Skull, nose, bones intact by palpation. Irides are brown, slightly congested. Unidentified black substance on the front teeth, gingeva and lips." As David says this, we see all the physical signs. David looks at Emergency Backup David and says, "Okay, David, open him up." Emergency Backup David selects his scalpel with care and bends over to make the first incision. After he begins, watery blood wells up, and Emergency Backup David -- whose nerves are probably still shot from withstanding Grissom's glowering -- shakily calls out, "Dr. Robbins. I-I have blood. Sir, I have bleeding." The two men exchange a panicky look -- I get the sense that at this point in their careers, caring for live people unnerves them badly -- and then they swing into action. David the All-Seeing Coroner immediately applies direct pressure to the incision while Emergency Backup David gets his kit. Emergency Backup David then takes over on applying direct pressure while David the All-Seeing Coroner injects a syringe of adrenalin into Stearns's heart. The TMICam spares us no detail. As Stearns's pulse rate rises, Emergency Backup David threads a suture needle for David the elder, and they prepare to sew Stearns back up before calling the EMTs and demanding to know which genius called that one before wheeling the body down to the morgue. If you ask me, this has "Hank" written all over it.
Meanwhile, out at Mount Trashmore, everyone searches the trash in time-lapse photography while the dance music plays. After a prolonged sequence, Catherine finds a severed human leg. Nick comments that it's obviously female -- let's let the DNA be the judge of that, Mr. They Have No Drag Queens In Texas -- and they all make noises as if to indicate that the gam is gamy. Sara's moving trash near the leg, and sure enough, she finds a torso and head. There's no eye. We hear the black bird caw and see, once again, the moment of eyeball plucking. Sara coughs again, because she too thinks the shot was gratuitously gory. Catherine and Nicky estimate the temperature of the trash pile -- think 120 degrees Fahrenheit (thank you, physics, for the heat generated in many chemical reactions!) -- and Catherine comments on the relatively good condition of the body relative to the heat. "She should be totally bloated," Sara comments. Nah -- the producers are saving that for sweeps. Nicky comments on how torn up the body is, and Sara casts a look back over her shoulder, commenting that bulldozers are vicious. Then we get to see how vicious in a shot of the body crumpling under the trash. Catherine adds, "I think they only finished the job. How did she get here?" Catherine might want to check to see which homeowner's association decreed that Wednesday was corpse recycling day, and go from there.
It's daylight, and we can safely assume that at least one Las Vegas raven is circling around trying to figure out where the hell her nest went; the others all go home and take Chloraseptic after a long night of nevermore-ing at high-strung alcoholics. There is no going home for Catherine, though; she's sashaying into the morgue and telling David, "I heard you got to be a superhero today." "I consider myself to be a superhero every day," David shoots back. You know Emergency Backup David is hovering just off-camera and taking notes on How To Talk To CSIs. Anyway, Catherine asks David what he's got on "Our Lady of the Dump." He replies, "[Cause of death] is still indeterminate. Blunt force trauma is a possibility. She has some perimortem bruising around the left eye, but limb removal is relatively clean -- definitely post-mortem." Catherine notes that they have no arms, so no prints; she asks what kind of identifying characteristics they do have. David replies, "Second-degree midline episiotomy scar." Catherine notes ruefully, "Well, that narrows it down to more than half the women in this country who gave birth." David adds, "There might be one more thing -- at first, I thought appendectomy scar, but check out her x-ray. She's had surgery -- some kind of implant at the L4-L5 interspace. I'll know more when I open her up." Catherine tells him, "You're my hero," and then wanders off again.
Meanwhile, Nicky and Sara are sorting through the trash found around the victim, apparently under the theory that the proximity of the trash will pinpoint the victim's initial dump location. Nicky holds up a Tiffany-blue bag and comments that "she was buried with some very expensive trash." Sara lifts up one of her finds and points out, "There's nothing wrong with this frying pan. It could have gone to Goodwill or someplace." Nicky produces something: "Home pregnancy test. Better luck time." See, he's assuming that the person who took that test wants to be pregnant; maybe the negative test is the better luck. Ever think of that, Nicky? Sara holds up a bag of produce and says, "Someone? Does not like frozen peas." Nicky reads a receipt and observes, "They weren't shopping at Costco. They paid way too much for ice cream." But does Costco stock the Ben & Jerry's Chubby Hubby? Does it? No, seriously -- I want to know. I've searched all over the place for it, and it's like the Bay Area banned it. Sara pulls up a blood-stained white shirt and says, "There's a good chance our vic was wearing this shirt." Nicky's had enough fun peeking into other people's lives vis-à-vis their trash, and decides he wants to narrow this down to a neighborhood. He reads off addresses found on mail and other items in the trash while Sara marks the location on a map. It's looking like we'll be taking a visit to 174 Storm Cloud Lane.
Catherine, meanwhile, is holding the blood-spattered implant David removed from the woman's spine. He tells her, "[I] pulled it from the L4-L5 interspace. Cobalt chromium molybdenum alloy with a titanium coating and an ultra-high molecular weight polyethylene component. An artificial spinal disc. If you can recreate a spine, the possibilities are endless." Catherine needs a little clarification, as she thought disc-replacement surgery required fusing bone to bone. David explains, "Eh, typically, but it can limit mobility. Your body doesn't know the difference. Matches range of motion, flexibility, and an axial rotation of a normal spine." As he enumerates the benefits of an artificial disk, we see it in bloody action in a live spine with lots of moving vertebrae. David then reveals why we now know so much about this artificial disc: it's still in clinical trials, and there are fewer than a thousand in the country. Well, this narrows things down much more than the episiotomy scar did. David narrows it down even further based on the plate size and its lordosis (i.e. swayback, or inward curve) angle -- the implant belonged to one Amy Ennis of Austin, Texas.
And now Catherine, Nicky, and Sara are going to find out what Austin Amy was doing in a trash can off Storm Cloud Lane. Nicky's looking at a line of trash cans lined up along a suburban cul-de-sac and confirming that they're all the trashcans on Storm Cloud Lane. Sara asks, "They're on residential property, it's not trash day -- how did you get consent?" Catherine shrugs, "Talked to the president of the homeowner's association." Nicky, who's familiar with how Catherine talks to people, asks, "What'd you threaten her with?" Catherine replies, "A return visit." From the depths of the couch, Mr. Sobell opines, "I would like a return visit from Catherine. How's that supposed to be incentive to cooperate?" Within time-elapsed moments, the three of them have found five trash cans that test positive for blood. They swab the live areas, then test to see if they found human blood -- personally, I'm intrigued about the non-human blood, as I'd be wondering if the neighbors were sacrificing goats to the local slavering hellbeast. Two of the five trashcans test positive for human blood, and the CSIs quickly deduce which one held the body. Hint: it's the one with the big smear of blood down the side from the body's slide into the trash compactor.
Cut to Catherine standing in a front yard with someone who's saying numbly, "You found blood? In my trash can?" Catherine asks if he has any idea how it got there. No, he does not. Catherine then asks if he knows an Amy Ennis from Austin, Texas. No, he does not. So he has absolutely no idea what Catherine's talking about? Just then, a car pulls up, and out pops a clean-cut teenager bearing flowers. She hustles over and asks, "Dad, you all right?" Dad lies like a rug when he tells her he's fine. She asks what's going on, and Catherine says, "I'm just asking your father a few questions." Dad thinks that it's time for the kid to go inside and start dinner, which she does without protest. Then he nags his younger son about homework, and we find out that Dad's a) unemployed and b) a single parent. Cue the Empathy Ray from Catherine.
Cue the Hot Ray from the benevolent powers that be, as Warrick finally shows up, meets Gil in a parking lot, and quips, "I hear David's resurrecting the dead now." Gil replies, "Our little miracle worker." Warrick tells Gil he's been gone for such a long, long twenty-one minutes because he's been in the hospital checking on Stearns, who's in the ICU with respiratory paralysis, courtesy of some sort of organic poisoning. Gil leaps to the logical conclusion with, "That would explain the discoloration Robbins found around his mouth." The two overhear a car salesman (Joey Slotnick) bludgeoning a would-be customer about the head and shoulders with sales pitches, concluding, "I don't close a deal; I open a relationship." The CSIs stop, aghast, until he moves out of their sight. Warrick comments, "That guy's a real charmer." Gil replies, "Yeah, real Ricky Roma." Hee! Mamet shout-outs are always good for a laugh, unless they include Mamet wives past or present. The two CSIs continue into the dealership, where the anodyne soundtrack is being punctured by the sharp yips of a little dog. The receptionist behind the desk rises -- no dog in sight -- and asks if she can help them. Warrick makes the introductions, and Gil whips out a warrant to search the premises. Nanci the receptionist is baffled as to why they'd be there with a warrant. Gil explains that it's for evidence concerning the attempted murder of David Stearns, and Nanci says, "He had a heart attack. He's dead." Gil gives one of those nostrils-down grimaces that pass for insincere smiles on his part and says, "No, he didn't, and he's not." Nanci's in the middle of standing there and staring in befuddlement when the dog barks again, and she quiets it by kicking over the purse in which it's lodged and chiding, "Gigi, shush!" Then she tells Warrick and Gil that the Chihuahua is contraband. Naturally, the stealthy thing to do is escort the law enforcement presence around with the dog tucked under one arm, so that's what Nanci does.
She shows Gil and Warrick over to Fred's desk and tells them that nobody's touched it since the EMTs took him away -- "It's bad luck." The middle desk belongs to Marty Gibson, and the one on the end is Clyde Hinton. Warrick looks at the half-eaten sandwich, the half-filled cup of coffee, and the countless chewing-gum wrappers and chewed-on pens, and comments unenthusiastically, "The poison could have come from any of these things here." Gil asks, "Oral fixation, you think?" Warrick thinks. Gil adds, "Constant need for gratification?" Warrick takes in the many plaques on the wall and replies, "In every way. This guy was like the monster closer. You ever buy a brand-new car, Gris?" Gil replies, "Depreciation doesn't make it a logical investment." Gil needs to get a reality check with my friend Elliott, who accompanied me car shopping and told me, "A car is never an investment. It's an expense, and the sooner you resign yourself to that and figure out how much you're willing to spend, the happier you'll be." Since Elliott's not around to apply some tough love, customer-style, Warrick will be refuting the investment argument with, "It's not about logic -- it's about smell. There's nothing like the smell of a brand-new car." Cue Joey Slotnick popping through the door like Satan's hand puppet, grinning insincerely and introducing himself with, "Right you are. Marty Gibson." Warrick looks frankly appalled. Gil immediately senses an opportunity for some referential humor at someone else's expense and says, "We're not buying, we're looking. If we need any help, we'll let you know." Marty is not deterred; he tells the unnerved Warrick, "It's not always about what you need. Some times it's about what you want." And then, having thoroughly misread both the situation and the people in the room, he exits. Gil and Warrick exchange one of those looks that says volumes, and get back to work.
Work includes a wordless montage, during which many things are collected. Gil focuses on Fred's workspace while Warrick moves on; Gil pours the coffee into a sample container while Warrick finds a piece of snakeskin caught under the button of Marty's sport coat. When the CSIs get to Clyde Hinton's desk, they discover that he's locked his drawers; the desperately jocular Hinton tosses them the keys. As Gil pulls out a bottle of superglue, Clyde begins a mindless, manic chortling. Gil's all, "You're the one who superglued Fred's phone. Chewing gum -- will turn any mouth black for days." Hinton's face continues to contort in a desperate rictus of inanity while Warrick forcibly recoils. Something tells me he'll be taking a long shower to wash off the psychic filth of this work day. God as my witness, I hope we're all there to see it. Warrick's cell rings, and he drifts off to answer it while Gil holds up a whoopee cushion and says, "I get it. You're the funny guy." Hinton asks, "Do you know the definition of kismet, Mr. Grissom?" Gil does not cotton to someone else referencing other cultures, when that is so plainly his role in the conversation. He replies, "Do you know the definition of attempted murder, Mr. Hinton?" Nothing deters this clown, who implores, "Just go with me a moment, Mr. Grissom." Gil gets all literal: "Go with you where?" Hinton cajoles, "Come on...kismet." Gil can't stand it anymore; he's been goaded into displaying his erudite superiority: "Fate or destiny. From the Arabic word meaning 'to distribute' or divide up." Hinton's probably the first person who's not intimidated by Gil's conversational style: "Smart guy! Destiny is what you make of it. It's what gets distributed to me while the other guy is washing the stain off his lips." We see the gum caper in flashback; it's every bit as wince-inducing as you think it is. Hinton matter-of-factly tells Gil, "Everyone tries to get an edge in this business. I use jokes." Then Warrick comes in with impeccable timing: "Fred Stearns just passed away. [beat] Again." Hinton, to his credit, says nothing, but that's not enough for Goodman Gil, who decrees, "Dead guy. Not funny."
Actually, it is. The shot is a Fred's-eye view of the light over the table in the morgue, and Emergency Backup David peering down anxiously. Then David the All-Seeing leans over and quips, "Okay, David. Take two." David gives him a look, and begins cutting again.
Holy cow, it's Captain Exposition! And so late! Brass tells Catherine that he's had no luck tracking down anyone who knew Amy Ennis. Catherine's all, "Well, we know that she had a kid." Brass corrects her with, "She gave birth. That doesn't mean she had a kid." Catherine's all, "We have nothing?" Brass begs to differ: "We have a Mercury Sable, Texas plates, found in the lot of the Tangiers hotel. She's the registered owner. They're bringing it in now."
Meanwhile, Emergency Backup David is slicing open the stomach and dumping out a black, viscous goo. Across the body, David pulls on his glasses for a better look. Emergency Backup David pokes around the stomach lining for a bit, then announces, "If the poison was administered orally, I may know how it got in the bloodstream." Gil is suddenly all ears. Emergency Backup David gives us a small lecture in the pathology of stress: "Gastric ulcer. In a healthy, functioning stomach, mucosa lines the walls and prevents the hydrochloric acid from burning the organ itself. But if H. pylori gets in there, it sends the whole system off-balance, stops the mucosa and causes an ulcer -- opens a direct channel straight from your stomach to your bloodstream." There's a long pause, during which we can all recall the TMICam which took us on a magical journey from healthy mucosa to disease-riddled slimy pit of pain; then Emergency Backup David says cheerily, "I know a lot about stress-related ailments." Gil nods. David the All-Seeing asks if there's any word yet on the poison, and we learn that the gum has been ruled out. David tries to rescue that one as a suspect -- "gum churns up stomach acid, instant inflammation" -- but Gil's not terribly sympathetic to Stearns's indigestion. He only wants "to know what killed him."
Sara and Nicky want to know about Amy Ennis. Sara whips out a skimpy piece of lingerie, noting, "She wasn't in town on business." She does a little pantomime with it for Nicky, and he quips, "Depends on what her business was, I guess." He ought to know. Sara comments that there's nothing risqué about the rest of Amy's wardrobe, and Nicky suggests that Amy got the lingerie in Vegas, as she could have met someone in town. Then he fumes the steering wheel of the car and -- miracle of miracles -- produces a perfect print that turns out to be those of one Kelly Easton. Since Catherine's coming back with hair-sample DNA (from the hairbrush found in Amy's luggage at the Tangiers) that matches Amy Ennis, the Amy/Kelly evidence confuses her until she connects the dots: "Easton, Easton...174 Storm Cloud Lane?" Nicky asks, "What's the first thing you do when you don't want to be found?" Catherine promptly answers, "Leave town." Nicky adds, "And change your name."
Cut to the patrol cars parked outside 174 Storm Cloud Lane as the neighbors gather in the streets and mutter about how the meeting will be devoted to coming up with passive-aggressive strategies for running the Eastons off the block before property values take a hit. Catherine's talking to Easton -- whom we all remember as the sad sap she was questioning a few scenes back -- and asking, "Wanna take a mulligan on your first story? 'Divorced'?" He snaps back, "What the hell was I supposed to say? She went out to get her hair done and never came home." Well, why not? Catherine develops the anti-rapport with, "Maybe you gave her a reason to leave -- spousal abuse, cheating..." From the depths of the couch, Mr. Sobell snarls, "Maybe you're being a jerk. All of a sudden, you're not so pretty." He's a tough judge of character. Easton's all, "You people. You were here five years ago" -- which he neglected to mention last time he chatted up law enforcement -- "with your grid searches, your dogs, your cadets, you came up empty. You give me a good reason why my wife left me. I'd love to hear it, because I tried the truth. I didn't know what happened. You know what I got for it? They all think I killed my wife. Her parents sued me for custody. I lost my job, my friends. Only thing [sic] I got left are those kids and this house." Catherine softens a little: "Okay, you didn't kill her. At least back then."
Fresh off that conversation, she tosses the master bedroom with Nicky and Sara. They're ALSing everything in sight, finding the occasional small bodily stain, a piece of lingerie, and another reason to question Easton on the front lawn. Can't they take it inside? Easton explains, "She came back about a month ago. The doorbell rings. What do you say?" How about "Where the fuck have you been"? "Is there a good reason you ruined my life, you heartless succubus"? "I don't suppose you're here to confirm that I'm really in Hell"? You could start with any one of those -- they're sufficiently open-ended. We flash back to the recently-dead Mrs. Easton, who kind of lists into the house and swerves all over the line between "free-spirited" and "crazy." Sara tells Easton that whatever he said, it must have worked if the evidence in the bedroom is anything to go by. Easton replies, "Well, they say time heals all wounds. It's crap. I hate her for what she did to us. But I swear, it was the first time I felt anything in five years." Sara just stares, baffled.
Upstairs, Catherine's still tossing the bedroom, and she finds some blonde hairs between the sheets. Meanwhile, Nicky's examining the son's room with the ALS, noting the collage of music and skate stickers on the wall, the messy bed, and the neat desk. Nicky sits down at a desk -- and discovers a rage diary! Of all the CSIs to page through a notebook featuring page after page of drawing detailing the assorted ways in which the human body can be folded, spindled, and mutilated after someone's been pushed over the edge...this is perfect. I believe I've achieved recapping nirvana in this scene as Nicky continues to page through the diary, possibly making a mental note to move his own Rage Diary to a location where the surviving CSIs can read it after he has his Day of Justice, possibly listing what pointers he can offer an aspiring massacre planner from his own hours of painstakingly documenting who's wronged him and how they will pay. Or, quite possibly, simply reading through the diary and trying to draw a psychological bead on the kid, Charlie.
Then Nicky's out on the curb, talking to Charlie -- I realize they're executing a warrant and all that, but can't they park the Eastons in the back, away from prying eyes? -- and Charlie's asking, "So she's really dead?" Nicky looks down at the black-clad kid and says, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm sorry." Charlie says, "Figures...she left without telling us. Figures she'd die the same way." Nicky says slowly, "I don't think your mom knew she was going to die, bud." He's got good intentions, but they're not going to undo five years of an absentee parent, so Charlie only says, "Whatever," before putting his earbuds back in and listening to his devil rock.
Catherine's talking to the daughter, Nora, who exposits, "Last time I saw my mother, I was in seventh grade. She handed me my lunch and said, 'See you after school.'" Catherine asks, "Did you know she was back?" Nora says, "I never thought she was dead. Can I sit down?" Nora's rubbing her abdomen as she sits, so naturally, my first thought is that she's got some sort of stress-related ulcer, what with balancing school on top of running the house for her dad. Catherine hunkers down too and says, "I know this has got to be very hard on you and your brother --" "And my dad," Nora adds quickly. Oh, Lord -- that's all this episode needs is some unsettling parent/child angle. A light bulb goes off over Catherine's head as she looks at Nora, and she asks, "Is your dad seeing anybody? Does he have a girlfriend?" Nora stares at her, not comprehending. "How could he?" she asks.
That's more or less the signal for Catherine to cut the conversation short and go through Nora's room with the ALS. Nora's nightstand holds a lot of framed photos with Nora and her dad, and the drawer contains high-potency supplements and a pricey-looking diamond necklace. While this is going on, Sara's down in the kitchen, discovering blood and a space on the wall where a frying pan once was. Is anyone else flashing to that scene where she was discussing how people threw away perfectly good frying pans? And then -- just in case the memory-impaired are having a problem following along -- Nicky's opening up the big chest freezer and explaining, "This is where I found the hairs, right between the packages of frozen peas." Catherine looks at the hair and comments, "Mrs. Easton was a brunette." Nicky replies, "And we found a freezer's worth of frozen peas at the landfill." Catherine looks down at the peas, then back at Nicky, and says, "Lack of swelling, clean fractures -- she was frozen." We cut to a flashback of the frozen Kelly Easton being crunched in the trash compactor for what seems like the umpteenth time in the episode. Catherine continues, "Skin and muscle would have lost elasticity; fracture planes would have passed through in a straight line." Nicky thinks someone in the family stuck her in the freezer and waited until people pick-up day. We then flash back to the actual act of death -- or possibly unconsciousness, leading to freezer incarceration and death: Kelly Easton getting broadsided with a frying pan, hitting her head on the counter, and going down before being hauled into a freezer full of peas. Catherine says, "Well, the garbage tells us how she was killed. Now I want to know who."
I blame the snake. Well, no, not really, but how else should I have segued into this shot of snakeskin all up-close? Before Warrick can tell Gil that he's got snakeskin, Gil comes shuffling on it, ready and eager to share the results of the tox report, which came back with snake venom. Gil says, "I think maybe it's time to open a relationship with Marty Gibson."
Gil's idea of a relationship is to corner Marty and say, "We found reptile skin on your jacket sleeve. So unless you're shedding, we want to know how it got there." Somehow, Marty misinterprets this desire as the desire for a cup of coffee or a doughnut. He is exactly the type of salesperson who would lose me as a customer in about ninety seconds. Gil snaps, "No doughnuts." Warrick steps in with, "Fred Stearns dropped a dime at Girls, Girls, Girls and wrote it off." Marty explains, "Kaido Computers. Software guys are nuts -- into the kinky stuff. End of the day, they're driving Fred's cars." Warrick asks, "Neiman Marcus jewelry department?" Marty replies, "Fred knew you gotta spend money to make money." Warrick is undeterred: "Well, here's a freaky one. Since when are two dozen mice a business expense?" "Since I got the Pet Place to buy a minivan from me. My cousin works there," Marty says. Then he zones in on Gil: "You got kids? I could put you in a wagon, way below sticker." You know, while I do admire the chutzpah of anyone who tries to make a sale mid-interrogation, I think Marty's behavior is less an example of born salesmanship and more a demonstration of a lethal inability to correctly read a situation or people. Gil asks Marty what he did with the mice, and in an astonishing display of stupidity, Marty asks, "What do you care? You going to arrest me for blurring the lines?" Gil replies matter-of-factly: "No. We were leaning toward murder."
Cut to Marty ushering everyone down to the basement where he keeps his snake collection, assuring everyone that they're overreacting. Warrick inquires, "You know it's illegal in the state of California to keep venomous snakes?" Marty completely avoids that question too, saying, "If you handle them correctly, snakes are harmless. I know what I'm doing." Gil replies, "That's what we're afraid of."
Back at the A-plot, Easton is saying petulantly, "I didn't even know she was dead -- I thought she'd just left me again." Brass urges Easton to think of the glass as half-full: "It's a good thing you didn't tell the kids Mom was back." Easton's attack lawyer swats at Brass for that, and he cedes that exchange, moving on to ask, "Well, you were excited to see her. Why wouldn't the kids be?" Easton replies, "I'm an adult." Brass says, "That's right, you're an adult. Knowledgeable, experienced, aware of Nevada statutes, Chapter 156: administration of the estates of missing persons." Easton protests, "It's a matter of public record! We've been filling out those forms for five years!" Brass says, "You're jumping the gun: it's four years, eleven months, one week." This makes a difference, according to Brass, because in three weeks, Kelly's estate can be distributed to the widower Easton. Said estate consists of a hefty life insurance policy, which Easton claims is there for the kids. Brass points out, "For an unemployed guy, you're doing a lot of spending -- Tiffany's [sic], La Perla, International Watch Company? Expecting a windfall?" Anyone else remember that robin's-egg blue bag Sara and Nicky found? The lawyer's all, "You're fishing," and Brass replies, "No, I do that with a pole. I'm just thinking out loud. Your wife disappears, five years after the fact, you get the money. You earned it, it's yours. But she screwed you up. She showed up." Easton protests that he didn't kill his wife. Brass pushes, but gets nothing.
Meanwhile, Gil's talking to a herpetologist, who's telling him, "The scales found on your suspect's jacket are keeled -- diamondback rattlesnake. All his other snakes have smooth scales." Then she goes into the anatomy of the snake fang: "A snake fang is basically a hypodermic needle. Oral glands hold in the venom like the barrel [of the needle]. When [the snake is] aggravated, the jaw muscles push on the toxins like a plunger." As she explains this, she milks a rattlesnake for us to see. This is so, when Gil can protest that his victim had no puncture marks, she can say, "Your guy's probably pretty comfortable with his collection -- otherwise, he'd be dead, which means he could have milked this one." Gil realizes that Marty could have brought the milked venom in to work. Gil then asks, "The trace lab found venom proteins in his coffee cup -- could that have killed him?" The herpetologist knows plenty of muy macho types who drink the venom, for reasons known only to themselves and other citizens of Machoville. Gil brainstorms, "Typically, the stomach acids would kill the venom before it reached the bloodstream. If you had an ulcer..." The herpetologist replies, "Hmmm. Then you're seriously screwed." Her delivery -- which is sort of a bemused sing-song -- absolutely sells that line. She then asks, "Did he have any tissue death -- necrosis?" Gil answers in the negative, which just makes his life more complicated, as the herpetologist replies, "That rules out his diamondback rattlesnake. Rattler venom's hemotoxic -- it means it predigests the tissue before swallowing." Gil takes this in before looking for another answer: "The ELISA test came back positive for alpha-neurotoxins." The herpetologist replies, "Well, your guy likes them mean, so these other two could have done the job -- both neurotoxic." Gil realizes that the neurotoxin would do a great job of explaining how Fred's paralyzed body ended up in the morgue the first time.
Oh, wow, it's Liam and his high-volume hairdo explaining to Catherine what he's found: the blood samples Sara took from the kitchen counter and the chair belong to Kelly. The hair from the freezer and the bedroom pillow belong to Kelly as well. But -- and really, by this point in the series, this revelation is less shocking twist and more like unwelcome cliché -- the blonde pubic hairs in the bed belong to Nora. Catherine nimbly leaps to conclusions and says flatly, "Dad did have a new girlfriend."
Then she goes to talk to Nora, asking about the diamond bracelet. Nora says it was a gift, and "he thought I deserved it...for taking care of everything." She smiles, and Catherine visibly begins thinking of what to say . She finally settles on, "Everything?" Nora elaborates: "Laundry, groceries, carpool for Charlie..." and not a resentful little bone in her body for having to assume so much responsibility so young. Hmmm. Catherine prods, "Is that it?" Nora begins getting uncomfortable. Catherine pushes, "I'd really like to help you and your brother, but I can't unless you talk to me. We found evidence of you in your father's bed." Nora's getting progressively more freaked out. She eventually comes out with, "My father loves me...oh, my God." That last remark is prompted by her spontaneous lactation. Of all the phrases to have to work into casual writing, "spontaneous lactation" wasn't one I'd thought I'd ever use, but here we go. The creepy chimes of sinister goings-on continue as Catherine looks on appalled at the implications of a lactating teenager.
Those implications would include a pregnant teenager. Catherine charges in to where Easton's cooling his heels sans lawyer and more or less blindsides him with the news that Nora is pregnant, then introduces us to the flashback I could live without seeing -- Kelly walking in on Easton and Nora, then getting killed in the ensuing confrontation. After doing some magnificent leaping in logic (i.e. concluding that Easton tried to bribe his daughter with the bracelet when he protests that he gave it to his wife) and pirouetting around unproven premises (i.e. Nora's telling the truth and Easton's not), Catherine delivers a self-righteous tirade in which she effectively passes moral judgment on a confused and beaten-down Easton before making her exit. And before this fit, she had been doing so well with the snap judgments this season.
Two people who aren't doing so well are Warrick and Gil, who are busy gawping in dismay at a tox report. Warrick demands, "What do you mean, none?" Liam explains, "Venom's like perfume -- highly specific recipe." Specific is an excellent choice of words, what with each species of snake having its own venom. Liam continues, "Protein ratios vary from species to species." What Liam's talking about is this: the enzymes associated with snake venom include alpha-neurotoxins (block neuromuscular transmission by linking onto neurochemical receptors in the muscle fibers); kappa-toxins (these block central nervous system receptors); beta-neurotoxins (these keep neurotransmitters from releasing acetylcholine, which is bad in most synaptic reactions); dendrotoxins (which have the opposite effect of beta-neurotoxins); cardiotoxins (these disrupt and/or blow up the cells in your heart); myotoxins (these target muscle cells); and hemorragines (lead to massive blood hemorrhages). Different species of snake have different combinations of these proteins in differing concentrations -- for example, sea snakes have particularly effective hemorragines, while while cobras tend to have particularly potent neurotoxins. (See also: Lee, C.Y. (1971). Mode of Action of Cobra Venom and Its Purified Toxins. In "Neuropoisons, Their Pathophysiological Actions" (L.L. Simpson, ed.), pp 21-70. Plenum Press, New York-London.)
Liam concludes, "The protein levels from your three hoses doesn't match the sample taken from the coffee cup." Warrick is dismayed at having to admit that Marty might have been telling the truth about his snakes, and adds bitterly, "It was just a coincidence that he owns poisonous snakes and his coworker was envenomated." Gil reassures Warrick with, "A coincidence is just a scientific anomaly. Maybe he got rid of the snake."
Cut to Nanci's apartment, where an array of porcelain dog figures and a picture of Nanci kissing her dog give evidence as to how much she loves that little thing. The camera pulls back to show a snake-handler wielding an ill-tempered cobra with an impressive postprandial bulge. In the background, you can see even more dog statues and a dog painted on velvet -- this is truly impressive set work, or a truly unsettling real-life house. Anyway, Snakehandlin' Sam tells Gil that Nanci called Animal Control, hysterical because the snake had eaten her dog; he adds, "This is a monocle cobra; they're not indigenous. They're from southeast Asia." And what is the Naja naja kaouthia doing in Nanci's living room? Why, she's holding on to it for Marty because "the bastard told me he had a surefire way to win the Cabo trip and he told me he'd take me with him." Gil, who is trying to put the pieces together, asks what else Nanci did for Marty; she tells him that she recently became the Coffee Wench after Marty received a promotion post-Fred -- "It used to be Marty, the goodwill guy who got coffee for everybody else, but now since Fred's dead, he's moved up a desk." Gil, who is intrigued by this idea of underlings fetching beverages (look out, Liam!), asks what a goodwill guy is. Nanci explains, "[The goodwill guy is] the guy with no client list of his own who has to live off the hand-me-downs of the others." We see how this works in flashback -- suddenly, Glengarry Glen Ross looks like a warm comedy celebrating the generosity of the human spirit -- and then we return to Gil, who realizes that "sometimes, access is all you need."
Incidentally, if the monocle cobra is the culprit here, we would have seen some necrosis; it's commonly associated with envenomation (Reid, H.A.: "Cobra Bites." Brit Med Journal. 2:540, 1964). But I suppose we had to steer the plot away from rattlesnakes and toward a more neurotoxically likely suspect, so why not the cobra? And why not wrap up this plot? We're off to the deserted car dealership, where Gil is escorting a handcuffed Marty out of the office as he disgustedly invokes his snake-sitter's name. Gil asks, "Do you know what a syllogism is, Mr. Gibson?" Marty does not. Gil explains, "Syllogism -- Aristotelian logic. Two premises equal one conclusion -- A plus B equals C..." Marty gets it. Gil continues, "You're the snake guy, but you're also the goodwill guy who gets the coffee. So when someone gets poisoned with snake venom in their coffee...A plus B equals you." Marty's unrepentant: "I busted my ass on this floor so I can get a desk up there. And for what? So that Fred can make me his bitch?" Gil says incredulously, "So you kill him?" That's the long and short of it, yes. And now, Marty's loaded in the car, off to a place where he'd better hope those persuasive skills come in handy.
Back at the A-plot, Catherine's sitting in on Nora's surprising medical exam. We get the results a moment later when Sara shouts incredulously, "She's a virgin? What are we talking about, the immaculate conception?" Catherine replies, "More like the immaculate perception." Frankly, I'm less shocked by that than by the sight of Catherine -- or any other CSI -- reading a book for information as opposed to spouting it on the spot or invoking the Discovery Channel. Anyway, Catherine tells Sara, "Pseudocyesis -- imagined pregnancy." Sara's having trouble with this concept: "It's all in her head. Well, that would explain what she was doing in Dad's bed." Catherine is slowly beginning to realize that she may soon have to eat crow -- I wonder if they've got the one who found the eyeball hanging around, for a nice bit of symmetry? She tells Sara, "Fantasizing. Wow. 'When the desire to become pregnant is so strong, hormone levels can change, setting off all biological signs of pregnancy.'" And now the home pregnancy test Nicky commented on comes back to haunt us. Sara comments, "Kind of makes sense -- hormones travel the same channels as adrenaline." Catherine recites some of the symptoms: "Swollen abdomen, lack of menstruation, and sometimes, bilateral galactorrhea." God help me, I hear "bilateral galactorrhea" and I expect to see Dirk Benedict fighting the Cylons. Catherine notes that the breast milk leakage can be brought on by stress. Well, we saw Exhibit A a few scenes back. And then we get a computer simulation of how pseudocyesis works, but it's so patently cheesy that I refuse to deal with it. Sara remarks, "The father was clueless." Catherine adds, "About all the women in his life." Just then, a punching bag for the opposite sex comes in, in the form of Nicky. He's here to tell us that the bloodstained shirt they found is linked to both Nora and Kelly, and that Liam found Kelly's epithelials on the bracelet.
Cut to Catherine talking to Nora again, asking her to explain how Kelly's blood ended up on her shirt. Nora cannot. Catherine then asks about the bracelet: "You told me this bracelet was a gift from your father. He claims that he bought it for your mother." This causes Nora to speak up: "No, no. It's mine." Catherine says, "I think you feel the same way about your father." Nora doesn't deny this. We see a flashback where she comes into her father's bedroom and sees Mom and Dad in assorted states of undress, with Mom opening the bracelet before kissing Dad. Cue the pseudocyesis. Moments later, as Nora's washing dishes downstairs, her mother sneaks up behind her, lilts, "Guess who's ba-ack," and gets a frying pan between the eyes for her trouble. Catherine takes us out of flashback by pointing out, "Then you put her in the freezer, and you waited until trash day." Nora disingenuously -- or delusionally -- says, "That's a horrible story." Catherine replies, "It's not a story. It's what the evidence tells us what really happened." This is the point where Nora goes over the edge: "What kind of a mother would do that? I'm helpful. I do what needs to be done." Catherine says calmly, "I know. You take care of things." Nora shouts petulantly, "I never ask for anything!" Catherine brings it home with, "And all you wanted was the one thing you couldn't have." Nora spits out, "It's not my fault! I'm innocent!" Catherine sets her straight by saying, "You were innocent, Nora. You're not anymore." Brass begins reading off the arrest statement to Nora, and as she rises and is escorted off, she begins crying: "But I'm going to have a baby!" She departs, and both and Catherine look like they could use a drink. Actually, so could I. Anyway, Brass sighs that Nora's going to retain an attorney who will pull the crazy card. Catherine's not surprised. Brass asks quietly, "Have you ever seen anything like this before?" Catherine replies sadly, "How it manifested? No. But the cause? People throw things away every day." And on that down note, we end the episode.