Crash and Burn

Kicky electronic music plays, causing viewers in the audience who grew up in the 1980s to look around and wonder who broke out the Atari. We get a wide aerial shot of Las Vegas's sprawling suburbs (nary a tree to be seen from the sky; evidently the ones we see are those elusive burrowing trees you hear so much about on the Discovery Channel) and then we zero in on a bustling caf. We can tell it's a caf and not some dreary chain where people fret about their flair count because the patrons are all too good-looking to have ever thought about eating a cheddar-and-bacon-filled potato skin, much less hefted one toward their mouths. Also, the glassware is way too nice. Anyway, couples huddle over the tables in conversation, murmuring, "Things couldn't look more normal here if they tried!" A saucy brunette sashays out of the bathroom, heading towards a confused-looking blond man. I'm going to assume it's Hank. I have a confession to make: the character's never really registered with me visually. He's like the human equivalent of rice; I know in the abstract that the different varieties are supposed to look and taste unique, but it's all one big, bland mass to me. So it is with Hank, too. I'm pretty sure the powers that be have swapped actors for this character at some point, but since the guy slides off my memory like eggs off a Teflon-coated skillet, I can't confirm it and I don't care enough to look it up on IMDB.

The patrons all partake of postprandial chitchat while the manager beams benevolently. His smile disappears the moment he notices the Jaguar heading down the empty street which faces the caf, as the Jaguar is a) speeding, and b) showing no indication of making a turn before reaching the T-shaped intersection at which the caf rests. In fact, the car goes hurtling through the caf's plate-glass window, wreaking impressive Bruckheimer-caliber carnage as it goes. Glassware breaks, people go flying across the room in the kinds of parabolas that require entire trigonometry classes to map, enough blood splatters to look grisly without going overboard, and general mayhem ensues. In short, we've just seen proof that the apple doesn't fall far from the Bruckheimer tree when it comes to carnage. The penultimate shot of the disaster is perpendicular to the ground -- probably to demonstrate how disorienting it can be to plow into a restaurant without a reservation -- and the scene ends with the camera resting on the slumped senior citizen pinned behind the wheel of the Jag. Oh, AARP's gonna be pissed about this.

Then, in true CSI style, we switch to the crime scene already in progress, with tape strung, paramedics present, and everything settled down. Also, it's begun raining. Going by this season alone, Las Vegas appears to be in danger of leaving the desert biome and moving into a savanna classification, what with the extraordinary amount of rainfall they get on this show. Perhaps season will feature a group of mystical nomads besieging Gil not to muck with the ecosystem because the Spice must flow. Anyway, Catherine and Sara come in out of the rain and walk over to Brass, who's talking on the phone to someone who will never be identified. Captain Exposition apprises them of the situation: the old woman in the Jag plowed into the cafeteria during happy hour, killed two people outright, and critically wounded four. Catherine asks about the driver, and Brass tells her that the driver is non-responsive thus far. Sara's looking around and assessing the scene when a familiar (to her) voice rings out, and she perks up like the cats do when I open a can of wet food. It's Hank, doing what he does best: moving bodies around a crime scene. Sure, they're alive now, but that's just because Hank knows the dead ones aren't going anywhere until he gets to them.

Sara wanders over toward Hank as the closed captioning reads: "CATHERINE: That's Sara's boyfriend." I'm mentioning this because it establishes the kind of relationship all of Sara's coworkers think she and Hank have. As Sara comes over, we see that Hank's a little banged up, which he deflects by saying, "Hey, Sara. Typical Thursday." Sara realizes that Hank might be in shock when she watches him try to open an unconscious man's jaw and she notices, "Hank, your wrist is broken." He looks down and says casually, "Yeah, it is. Larry, take over, will ya?" Larry tags in as Sara watches.

Meanwhile, firemen are using a crowbar to pry the door of the Jag open. Gil and Catherine watch; he tells her, "Car's dry. This must have happened right before the rain." They continue to observe as rescue workers inspect the condition of the driver. Brass wasn't kidding about "non-responsive."

On the other side of the room, Sara's asking Hank what happened. He tells her he was sitting at a table when a car came out of nowhere. Then he gets out of the conversation by rushing off to tend to a victim elsewhere. Let's hope he's not doing chest compressions with that broken wrist or anything. Sara's still anchored to the spot, visibly knocked for a loop that her boyfriend was directly affected by the scene. Or perhaps she's just realizing that she can't remember what he looks like the minute he moves out of sight. "My God! I'm dating a completely personality-free man!" she's thinking. Or I'm projecting. Take your pick.

As Hank barrels on by, Catherine and Gil both give him the fish-eye. Heh. As Hank hunkers down by the driver, Catherine comments to Gil, "Some happy hour, huh?" Gil brings us to the credits with, "I think happy hour's over." Owwwww.

The Who would like to know who you are.

Apres-commercials, we're back at the scene. Paramedics are running thither and yon. Catherine is taking photographs of the car. Hank is finally getting that broken wrist tended to by a fellow paramedic when Sara asks if she can tag in and finish that up. She crouches down and begins taping, cooing, "Are you okay?" Hank's all, "I didn't think I'd see you tonight," but he doesn't exactly sound thrilled about this surprise encounter. I'm willing to cut him some slack for the throbbing pain in his wrist, but I'm thinking that if I were in a freak accident and my sweet baboo popped up unannounced, not only would I be glad for the company, I'd be shamelessly milking the chance encounter for succor in the form of Scharffen Berger, hand-and-foot valet service, an audience for my increasingly hyperbolic narrative of what happened, et cetera. Instead, Hank's almost irritated that of all the crime scenes in Las Vegas, Sara had to be working his. Sara's all, "So that's what this is all about." Hank abruptly thanks her, and Sara gives him a limpid gaze before saying, "Any time." Who is this woman? Did she get a lobotomy between episodes? I realize we've had this whole Sara-and-Hank-are-dating thing going on for nigh unto sixteen episodes, but Sara's typically been pretty low-key about it, and we've seen very little evidence that she and Hank actually like each other or enjoy each other's company. Her locker at work doesn't have "SARA+HANK 4-EVA TLA!!!" taped on the front, and Hank's not exactly humping her leg to mark his territory in front of the lab techs. This sudden ratcheting up of the emotional stakes seems patently false and manipulative. Plus, there's the unavoidable fact that she's trying to act as though she's madly in love with the human equivalent of rice. Hank's all, "Gotta run!" and Sara's all, "Call me! I'm totally available!" and Hank scampers off with nary a backward glance at Sara.

Sara wanders off, and Gil pops up in her path to tell her that she and Catherine will be working evidence on this scene. Warrick will be pitching in too, now that he's done with Internal Affairs; one wonders why he was in there, if we'll hear more about this, and if he spent any of his time with IAB asking if they missed being real cops too. Gil tells Sara to connect with the restaurant manager. Sara, having fully recovered from her Hank-induced amnesiac state, snaps to and tells Gil she'll do that. Then she asks Gil where he's off to. He assumes a regretful look and says, "I got gas." Sara gets the "thanks for sharing -- I think" look and she says, "Oh." Gil stops on his way out to clarify: "Residential gas leak in Henderson." He wanders off while Sara furrows her brow and thinks, "Gil made a joke? About a case?"

Then she heads on over to the restaurant manager, still visibly thrown off her game. She introduces herself, and Fred Lychock -- holy cow! They've identified a character by name within the first six minutes! -- attempts to do likewise by extending his hand for a shake. Sara's gloved, though, so she passes. Fred makes the Most Valuable Witness list by saying, "Your supervisor asked for a seating chart. Everything's computerized -- a software program. This will show you the number of people per table." Sara looks at the tidy layout and asks Fred where he was during the crash. Fred tells her he was at the register behind the bar. Sara asks if Fred saw anything, and he replies, "A blurry Jaguar speeding through the intersection. I thought the car would slow down, but it just kept right on coming, you know? If you ask me, that's the reason old people don't belong behind the wheel." Oh, Fred. You're off the MVW list now. Sara gives him an unimpressed look and says flatly, "I didn't ask you. Thanks for your time."

Catherine's still over by the Jag when Sara comes over. Sara apologizes with, "I'm sorry. I got wrapped up in..." "Hank," Catherine finishes, clearly evaluating Sara; what's not clear is whether she's looking over Sara in empathy (what with the recent Eddie thing) or in trepidation (what with the possibility that Sara will flake out in a personally-involved case). Sara looks into the car and comments, "An old Jaguar with a GPS unit. That's strange." Catherine quips, "This is not your granny's Oldsmobile."

Then we leave this scene, get another aerial shot of the Vegas 'burbs at night -- perhaps this is when the elusive Suburban Burrow Tree comes out of its subterranean den to decorate the streets -- and get a voice-over of Gil asking, "We're cleared to go in?" We then see the house in question, and Detective Lockwood confirming that they're cleared; the gas company's shut off the valve at the street and the paramedics have aired out the scene. Nicky then asks, "Homicide radioed in a DB?" Yes, and it's one Vanessa Arnz, currently lying in the master bedroom to her son's room.

As Gil and Nicky walk down a picture-lined hall, Gil tells Nicky, "The gas company spikes its gas with mercaptan -- smells like rotten eggs." Nicky walks past the bubbling fish tank -- the bubbles are pretty loud, so we must be meant to notice the tank -- and peers inside the son's room. He notes, "I don't smell anything." Gil replies, "All I smell is mothballs and stale tobacco." Nicky shoots back, "Science geek." I'm pretty sure that was a remark commenting on the resident of the room -- there's a telescope set up in the window, a bookshelf filled with books and papers, and a desk, upon which a model of the space shuttle, a microscope, and a personal computer rest -- and not on Gil's general observation about overall odors in the house. Gil looks into the room after Nicky comments, so I'm thinking that he's confirming the geek assessment. After Gil nods slightly at Nicky, Nicky replies, "Takes one to know one, I guess." That comment I'm not so clear on -- it's either Nicky confirming that Gil is the geek standard by which all others are measured, or that he himself was a boy geek with the science equipment and other left-brain paraphernalia. That ambiguous moment over, Gil and Nicky head into the bedroom where Vanessa is splayed out on the bed.

Gil greets Emergency Backup David, and the younger man responds, "She's hot pink, like a maraschino." Gil replies, "That makes our job easier." Emergency Backup David continues, "Death was not the result of natural gas inhalation." Gil responds, "No, but carbon monoxide's still gas." Nicky tags in, "Right. And carbon monoxide displaces oxygen in the blood. Victim asphyxiates, turns...pink." And here's how: oxygen circulates through the body because it binds to hemoglobin (red blood cells), and the hemoglobin moves through the bloodstream, refreshing deoxygenated tissues by depositing oxygen and picking up fresh infusions of oxygen to circulate around. Hemoglobin loves oxygen; unfortunately, it loves carbon monoxide more. Much more -- hemoglobin has approximately 240 times the affinity for carbon monoxide it does for oxygen, so if the body ingests a lot of CO at once, that molecule binds to the hemoglobin, thus forcing out the oxygen and leading to oxygen starvation and asphyxiation. Bizarrely, we do not get the TMICam shot of hemoglobin moving around with its deadly load of CO. Instead, we get a combination flashback shot of the invisible killer wafting around, and Vanessa turning pinker as she breathes. In the present, Gil asks if Mr. Arnz was in bed with Vanessa, and we find out that he was; Emergency Backup David explains, "Paramedics said they found them both in here." Gil asks pointedly, "So why is she dead and he's still alive?" Everyone looks at each other and raises their eyebrows pointedly. Nicky straightens up from the body and says, "You know, David, when I was a CSI 1, I would have tried to answer that. But now I know: 'where' before 'why.' Find the source of the CO. I'll grab the Nighthawk, fire it up." Gil gives Nicky a neutral look, but it beats the all-too-frequent smackdowns, so we'll assume that Nicky's making progress. Gil then turns his attention back to the late, pink Mrs. Arnz. Lockwood comes in and tells everyone that Mr. Arnz is now stable and ready to be transported, probably to the Desert Palms, where everyone else ends up. Gil says he's off to take a look at the surviving spouse.

Outside, Gil's listening to Mr. Arnz as he explains, "I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes. I get cold. Vanessa steals the covers. I woke up and my head was spinning. I think I'm coming down with something. Then I look over at her..." We flash to Mr. Arnz realizing that Vanessa's in worse shape than he is, and calling 911. Lockwood asks if Mr. Arnz remembers anything else, and he replies, "I don't even remember hanging up the phone. I must have passed out. thing I know, paramedics are taking me out." As he talks, Gil sees the science geek from two paragraphs ago, standing by himself and looking considerably upset. The paramedic tells Gil that his interview is over anyway, as they're about to transport Mr. Arnz to Desert Palms (Yes! Yes! I called it!). Mr. Arnz interrupts to ask how his son is, and the EMT replies, "Peter's fine. Kid's eighteen, signed an AMA." Gil walks over, ducks under the tape, and introduces himself to Peter. The kid turns around and says flatly, "You want to ask me questions. I was in the bedroom, asleep. I heard the doorbell. It was the paramedics. Two minutes later, the police showed up." Gil listens, then says carefully, "I'm very sorry about what happened to your mother." Peter finally looks over and says caustically, "Why are you sorry? You're not the one responsible." Interesting choice of words there, Creepy Pete. ["Creepy Pete, late of Sleepers, was last seen braining his boyfriend to death in The Deep End. Boy's got issues." -- Sars] The kid continues, flatly intoning, "You didn't know her. You don't know me." Gil mentally notes to tell Nicky that they're not dealing with a science geek, but a really creepy science geek, so be sure to be on the lookout for renegade colonies of genetically engineered super-rats if he wants to dust Pete's room for prints.

Back in the A-plot, Sara's walking down the hall of Desert Palms hospital. She meets someone (I have no idea who; he's shot in the shadows) outside a door and asks, "How's she doing?" I assume we're talking about the car's driver. Nameless Guy replies that the doctors are working on the woman now, but it doesn't look good. Sara notices a grieving young man sitting near them, and asks about him. Nameless Guy tells her that the driver has been identified as a Diane Lambert, and the man is her grandson Corey. Sara walks over to introduce herself, and Corey replies, "I don't even know why she was in Las Vegas. We live in Laughlin, and she hates it here." Sara asks if Diane did own that Jaguar she plowed through the window, and Corey tells her, "Yeah. She won it in the quarter slots. First two coins and, bingo! Triple stars." The woman won a Jag and she hates Las Vegas? Sara asks if Diane also won the GPS. Corey explains that she didn't: "She hadn't been driving it much. She got lost a couple of times and it scared her, so for her birthday last month, I bought her the unit." Corey's giving good information, but unfortunately, he's giving it to someone who's all distracted watching her meathead boyfriend hover around a saucy brunette currently confined to a wheelchair. Sara wants to see what's going on with her boyfriend, as opposed to pumping someone for more background while he's too distraught to wonder if he needs to get Grandma lawyered up, so she walks off.