Original subtitles

Our time capsule was buried in 1987,

the year the Dow closed above 2000 for the first time.

Reagan told Gorbachov to tear down the Berlin Wall.

- You had a huge crush on La Toya Jackson. - I did.

You can't complain, Stinson. You married a cheerleader.

Lucky I did.

Now we have a wonderful kid, who's a senior right here at Foothill. Alex, take a bow.

Anyhow, we're here today to open the time capsule that we buried 20 years ago,

so we can see who we were and how we all got to where we are today.

Found it.

20 years. Do you remember what you put in there?

A bad perm and pink legwarmers, probably.

Here we go.

Oh!

- God, that is foul! - What the hell, Bill!

- I thought you said this was watertight. - It should have been, and it's Gil, not Bill.

Let's see what we got here.

This is a sweet field. This is what I'm talking about, right?

It's nothing like ours, but that didn't stop me from being MVP in my senior year.

- Got the trophy. Touchdown! - In certain tribes in the African subcontinent,

piercings serve as a reminder, like your trophy,

of the power and agility which has since faded away.

"Faded away"? Time out! Can we just concentrate on the case? What have we got?

We were all gathered for the opening. We had no idea that thing was in there.

Whoa! That is rank.

I was just expecting to see my 10,000 Maniacs album.

- That was not there. - Who are you?

I'm Gil Bates. I sealed it myself. I used a propylene seal and industrial bolt lags.

Adolescent Caucasian male. Late teens, early 20s.

So what do you say we pack it all up and ship it back to the Jeffersonian?

Oh, I'm sorry. That's not a good idea.

The water has compromised the structural integrity of the case...

Look at this - another nerd for your squint squad.

- Drill. - Drill? Whoa, wait a second.

You're gonna drill here? What about the Jeffersonian?

Tub.

- Yeah! - Whoo!

A 1987 high school yearbook.

How about the ghetto blaster?

Rubik's cube.

How about this? A CD. No needle required.

In 20 years, they'll be able to fit hundreds of those on a microchip.

Victim had antemortem fractures to his sternum

as well as antemortem fractures to the lateral sections of his ribs.

- All healed? - All healed at different times.

I had a Michael Jackson glove. I've never mentioned that before.

I loved Chevy Chase. We all have our crosses to bear.

The fracture on the right clavicle is fresh.

Well, was, 20 years ago.

- Oh! Mullet alert. - Whoo. That's a nasty one.

Booth got a list of the students who didn't go to the capsule opening,

and anyone connected to the school in 1987 who had a record.

Oh, my God. I'm getting flashbacks to braces and stirrup pants

and a really, really bad side ponytail.

You grew out of it. I wore Doc Martens that weighed more than I did.

Apparently Booth was fine. He was a football player.

He was one of those guys.

Well, this guy wasn't hanging out with the cheerleaders,

but I bet he had some love notes stashed away in his Spaceballs binder.

- I think I saw him in the video. - Roger Dillon.

- Class of 1987. - Here he is.

The comet will be around in 76 years. We'll still be around, don't worry.

How did Roger Dillon get from there...

to here?

- I ran a sample of the sludge. - Organic matter.

- Or you could call him Roger. - Come on.

When you can ladle someone, he's a little less than a person.

Fine. I took a sample of Roger, ran it through the mass spectrometer.

Guess what I found - traces of an unidentified organophosphate.

- Nerve gas? - Very good. I'll break down the rest now.

The victim also had a perimortem fracture in his wrist.

There are indications of a grade two acromioclavicular joint separation.

- But it was certainly not lethal. - I've seen it before.

- Someone twisted his arm behind his back. - So he got beat up for his lunch money?

Violent students are the hallmark of a schoolyard. I speak from experience.

However, these fractures on his ribs might predate high school.

So he might have had some trouble at home?

I don't understand, Mr Dillon, why you've never reported your son missing.

His mother told me that Roger ran away.

You weren't concerned that your son never contacted you again?

- He didn't live with me. He didn't want to. - Because of the physical abuse?

Yeah, I was a drinker in those days.

And I understood why he wanted to just write me off.

But I cared about him. I was sick.

- When was the last time you saw Roger? - The night of his high school graduation.

He came over here afterwards asking me for money - a lot.

You threw him out with his arm twisted behind his back?

I swear, he... he got up and he walked away.

Now, this was 20 years ago. What's this all about?

- Roger is dead, Mr Dillon. - His remains were found yesterday.

Oh, God.

We found him at the high school. He'd been in a time capsule for 20 years.

Any idea why he needed the money?

Wouldn't say. Guess it was so he could run away.

You should talk to Gil. He was Roger's best friend.

- Gil Bates? - Yeah.

- That's the Tech Town guy. - Yeah. They did everything together.

We'll be in touch.

I'm different now.

I'm sober. I never... I never wanted to hurt him. I loved Roger.

Right.

The kid basically melted into all of this.

We should be able to pull chemical traces off the artefacts to ID the organophosphate.

- Beta. St Elmo's Fire. - It's on the list.

- One yearbook. Foothill High School 1987. - Check. Dehydrate and scan.

"Have a great summer. Don't ever change." Remember those days?

I remember getting grounded every weekend. So many rules to break, so little time.

- A nerd fantasy. - I was all about Barbie.

She was my first anatomy lesson. I was confused for years.

What about Ken? I felt so sorry for him.

Floppy disk the size of a dinner plate.

Bingo, baby. The disk is not on the list.

Wow, what are you? Term paper? Launch codes?

- We need to pull the data. Are you up to it? - I can try.

A hockey skate. And it looks like it's signed.

Check on the skate. Belonged to some jock named John Adamson.

- A can of New Coke. - An '80s plot to destabilize the country.

- Another check. - And a pocket watch.

A watch is not on the list.

It's a Wallingham. It's nice.

Computer disk and a pocket watch. What was our little geek into?

It's dry. This is a good watch.

- Some kind of residue. - Could it help ID the poison?

Let me at it.

Roger's father could get physical,

so why would he resort to poisoning his son with a nerve agent?

- What sort of teenager were you, Bones? - He did have a series of odd jobs.

Perhaps he procured the poison from one of them.

You had to have at least one good story before you pasted on the lab coat.

- I was busy studying. - And you never came across one hormone?

Fine. There was one boy.

Andy Fluger.

He was the varsity lacrosse captain.

Did you... kiss the varsity lacrosse captain?

I was weighing the pros and cons when he became my Secret Santa.

- I thought you hated Secret Santa? - Yes. Because he taped the gift to my locker.

Everyone saw it.

- Teenagers can be cruel. - What was it?

- Doesn't matter. - Come on, Bones.

- You promise not to laugh? - Promise. I'm your partner.

It was a Brainy Smurf.

- You said you wouldn't laugh. - I'm not laughing. Brainy Smurf, huh?

It was deliberate. He knew I wanted Smurfette.

- It's clear you find this amusing. - I'm not laughing. I'm not.

What?

You know, Angela was right. You were one of those guys.

What? One of what guys?

That was Roger in the time capsule?

I saw his skull. Oh, my God. I saw his skull.

He's been there since 1987.

- No, Roger took off. He left a note. - A note?

Graduation night, he left his mom a note saying he was running away.

He went to his father to ask for money. Do you know why?

All I knew was what his mom said was in the note.

Gil, his mother is dead and his father never saw it, so...

So you're the only connection we have to the note.

It said, uh...

that he couldn't be around his dad any more or the kids at school.

They picked on him. They used to pick on me too.

I guess he just couldn't take it.

Why wouldn't he just ask for help?

He was my best friend.

I always thought that I'd see him again.

I can't believe I'll never see him again.

All right, I found several denim cotton fibres on both the gold watch and the floppy,

matching what's left of the victim's classic acid-wash '80s jeans.

That places both items in the victim's pocket at the time of his murder.

I tested the residue inside the watch casing - pure crystalline tropane alkaloid.

Roger Dillon had a pocket watch full of cocaine?

It's so Miami Vice, I could roll up my sleeves.

The FBI sent us the files of everyone connected to the school who had a record.

Mostly petty thefts, DUIs, that sort of thing.

Darwin Banks, teacher at Foothill High.

Arrested in a schoolwide drug bust June 12, 1987.

- That's two days after Roger disappeared. - And Roger needed money.

Looks like our young geek might have been killed over a drug deal.

- Can you remember Roger Dillon? - Foothill High, right?

I was his science teacher. Smart kid. He could have taught the class.

Yeah, well, he's dead. We found him stuffed into the Foothill's time capsule.

- Been there since 1987. - God.

It says in the yearbook you were the faculty advisor to the Time Capsule committee.

- You gotta be kidding? - I don�t joke when a boy's been murdered.

We found evidence of cocaine on him.

Roger? No. That kid was clean.

The only way he got high was in front of his computer writing code.

That right? So help me out here, because in '87 you were arrested for dealing.

I wasn't dealing. I was just out of college. I had two joints.

- And four ounces in your apartment. - I was 23. We all do crazy stuff as kids.

Exactly.

I have my own business now, a wife and two kids. I'm in the Rotary Club, for God's sakes.

Well, we know that Roger needed money. Maybe he started dealing for you,

he wanted a bigger payout, threatened to turn you in if he didn't get it, so you killed him.

I didn't kill him and Roger didn't rat me out. It was Adamson. John Adamson.

An entitled ass, even at 17.

I caught him cheating, and the next thing I know

the cops are knocking on my classroom door.

He wanted to discredit me so he could retake the test.

Right, so you're the victim, with four ounces of weed?

Can you confirm your whereabouts on June 14, 1987?

If I'm such a big drug-dealing liar, why would I tell you the truth?

Because you don't want to go to jail for killing Roger Dillon.

Come on, Sweets. You've done psychological profiling.

- The case is 20 years old. We need help. - That's not why we're here today.

This hour is for you and Dr Brennan.

She won't mind. It'll only take five minutes.

1987. Suburban kid is killed and stuffed into a time capsule.

Fascinating, right? What kind of person would do that?

So have any conflicts or issues arisen since our last session?

- Well... - Bones and I are doing just great.

You look angry, Dr Brennan.

I told Agent Booth a private story about my childhood and he laughed.

What? No, I...

I was appreciating it. Don't get him involved.

Snorting does not suggest appreciation.

It was about a cartoon character from the 1980s. I didn't think you'd be so sensitive.

Childhood icons have great significance to us, Agent Booth.

I myself was very attached to Voltron.

Cartoon.

Voltron?

You're hurt because you opened yourself up to Booth and he betrayed that trust.

- We're talking about a Smurf. - Smurfette.

A way to bring this relationship back into symmetry is if you reveal a childhood story.

- Show your vulnerability to Dr Brennan. - No. You know what? This is crazy.

- It's not right. Tell him that it's not right. - Is it?

Why don't you go play Voltron with him?

You were that guy, weren't you?

The golden boy who could get anything by turning on the charm.

Ridiculous. You don't know who I am.

Could it be that you're still holding onto that persona, you're afraid to reveal yourself?

I'm an FBI agent. I get shot at every day. I'm afraid of nothing.

OK, this is obviously very difficult for you. But you shouldn't be ashamed to ask for help.

You shouldn't.

OK.

OK.

I apologise. I do. I need help.

With this case. So while you review this, I will reveal myself to Bones.

That sounded weird. You know what I mean.

So you will share an emotionally humiliating episode from your youth with me?

Yeah, I have 'em. Here.

All right, excellent.

Now, for the remainder of our time, let's role-play.

Now I know why I'm not allowed to bring my gun in here.

In the goop I found traces of cocaine consistent with the leakage from the watch.

I checked the results against hair and bones. They're negative - Roger didn't do drugs.

So his old teacher was telling the truth? Huh.

I also discovered what he was dosed with and how much.

- Malaoxon. - Malaoxon?

It's neurotoxic in high doses.

There wasn't enough to make a mouse cough.

So our theory about poisoning is incorrect.

Dr Saroyan, I found an anomaly on the victim's skull.

I found a tiny irregularity on the undersurface of the victim's mandible.

Magnified, it proved to be a tiny but sharply defined fracture.

Judging by its location, it appears a weapon was thrust into the neck,

through the sternocleidomastoid, severing the carotid artery and jugular vein.

Which means Roger must have bled out. Have you determined a weapon?

Judging by the microscopic crushing of the bone,

the weapon was neither too sharp nor too blunt. It wasn't an edged weapon.

- So it wasn't a knife. - Correct.

However, it left an odd textural stain in the crevice.

I've taken a sample and will hand it over to Hodgins for testing.

This little darling is a Commodore Amiga with a Motorola 6800 chipset,

using a homemade operating system.

I got it from the computer exhibit on the third floor. I used to have this exact computer.

My geek princess. I knew the mall couldn't suck out your soul.

Hey, look at that.

- Oh, this is incredible. - This is like a primitive Doom.

You don't see anything wrong with that?

Doom came out in 1993. All of this stuff, the 3-D rendering, the first-person shooting.

It was barely a glint in a geek's eye in 1987.

So Roger was way ahead of his time?

If this had come out in 1987, Roger would have been a billionaire several times over.

Well, money is always a good motive for murder.

I'm pretty sure that Sweets would say a lost baseball game is not personal or revealing.

Football, Bones, OK? It's football.

OK, I got one. All right, personally, between two people, or revealing like, uh... naked.

- That's very literal. - This girl, Karen Isley...

We were under the bleachers one night, personally. Are you with me?

Got it. You were having sex in the dirt under the bleachers.

- I'm a gentleman. I brought my sleeping bag. - Did you fail to perform?

- What? - That might actually count as a humiliation.

Will you just wait? Will you just allow me to tell my story?

- Fine. - Thank you.

So this girl had this game where she would ask me a question.

- What kind of a question? - It doesn't matter.

If I got the question wrong, I'd have to take off a piece of my clothing.

Of course, I knew the answers, but I pretended I didn't.

- So you could take off your clothes? - Exactly.

The point is I'm standing there, you know, in my socks, in my St Christopher medal.

She runs off. She runs off with the sleeping bag and all of my clothes.

- And I'm standing there starko. - Why did she do that?

I suppose she heard I was under the bleachers with another girl the week before.

This is a story about sexual prowess. You're bragging.

I had to run across the campus buck naked!

You laugh about it. You enjoyed displaying your penis, it showed alpha-male mastery.

Only one other person knew about Brainy Smurf - it was my mother.

It was cold, OK? Do you know what happens to a guy when it is cold... outside? Hi.

Can we make this quick? My boss doesn't understand why I keep leaving.

- He's kind of a jerk, so... - What do you know about Warstrike?

Wow. I haven't heard that name in a long time.

We found it on a disk in the time capsule. It was on Roger when he was killed.

- Oh, my God. - So you knew about it?

Yeah, but only as a drawing in his notebook. I didn't know he'd written a code.

According to an expert, someone could make a lot of money off it.

We planned to start a gaming business after graduation.

Roger was the brains and I was the business guy.

- You saw the game? It worked? - If you were partners, why wouldn't he say?

He was a perfectionist. He would wait until it was perfect.

Maybe he was trying to make a deal with someone.

No. No way. We were partners, OK? Best friends our whole lives.

Roger would never sell me out like that.

We were saving up to buy new computers to create a 3-D rendering farm.

They were expensive. Where were you gonna get the money?

We both worked. I paved driveways and Roger worked a shift at a roller rink.

Yeah, I scraped grills at a burger shack for $3.55 an hour.

- That's humiliating. - Nice try.

Roger, he made extra money tutoring that cheerleader, Janelle, in math.

He got paid to take the SATs for some cokehead hockey player.

And the kid got into Harvard off Roger's scores.

- Cokehead? What's his name? - John Adamson.

He's a real nasty piece of work.

Great. Thanks.

John Adamson was the star hockey player at Foothill. He barely graduated from Harvard.

He cheated. He didn't deserve to be there.

Maybe Roger was blackmailing Adamson about the SAT scam?

- Adamson killed him? - Could a hockey skate have killed him?

Adamson's was in the time capsule.

It could easily cut right through the jugular.

And the edge could create a sharply defined fracture.

Well, there you go. You got a motive and a weapon.

He's at that table, waiting for you.

John Adamson, FBI Agent Seeley Booth. I'd like to ask you a few questions.

Have a seat, Bones.

The senator expects me to concentrate on running his campaign, Agent Booth.

I hope this isn't going to be a waste of my time.

Take a look. You remember Gilbert Bates and Roger Dillon from high school?

No, I'm sorry. Neither the name Gilbert Bates nor Roger Dillon means anything to me.

This boy was found inside the time capsule, dead. You might have heard about that.

Like I said, I've been busy with the senator's campaign.

Funny, cos this kid said that this guy took the SAT for you.

Got you into Harvard.

SATs didn't get me into Harvard, Agent Booth. My slap shot did that.

So you don't deny that Roger Dillon took the test for you?

Total cooperation, we keep my sordid academic past in the past?

- Sure. - I paid Roger 200 bucks to take my test.

It was a done deal. Two weeks later, he comes knocking at my door

saying if I don't cough up another 500, he'll rat me out.

- Roger tell you why he needed the money? - No.

Just said a guy like me wouldn't understand.

I gave him all the cash I had, maybe 90 bucks, and my watch.

The watch with the hidden compartment for cocaine?

I don't know what you're talking about.

What?

You're a very slow reader, Dr Sweets.

Agent Booth's report on Mr Adamson is more revealing of Agent Booth than of Adamson.

- Really? Why? - That's for Agent Booth to share.

I've seen Adamson on TV enough to know, while he's harmful to the political process,

he's not homicidal. He's too sensitive.

A horny, cocaine-snorting, jock party boy is sensitive?

Yes, definitely. And emotionally immature. Totally dependant upon external validation.

- Cheap and greedy too. They always are. - You got all this off TV?

The point is, at the age of 17, John Adamson gave Roger Dillon money and a watch.

If he'd killed Roger he'd have taken his watch back.

Very convincing. The watch part, anyway.

All that insight into the intangible enigma of human behaviour,

- and you zone in on the banal and tangible. - I bring banal and tangible evidence.

Wow. With you people it's really go, go, go.

- We're catching murderers. - And that is so dope.

I'm running up a profile right now to help. I love being in the field.

Uh, you're in a secure lab.

Dude, for eight hours a day, I'm surrounded by neurotics, OK? To me, this is fieldwork.

Uh, no offence, Dr Brennan. I'll finish the profile.

Anyhoo, we've determined the malaoxon in the Roger stew

was originally the common pesticide Malathion before it broke down.

- How common? - There was this 1980s mosquito panic.

Malathion was sprayed. Virginia Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services says

there was a quadrant bordering Foothill High School that was sprayed at 7:45pm

on Thursday, June 14, 1987.

Whoa. Why did they keep such detailed records?

Spraying neurotoxins in an attempt to kill creatures that outlive atomic bombs

tends to make bureaucrats consider possible lawsuits, I guess.

- It's a housing development. - Yes, but in 1987 it was mostly a swamp.

It was under construction, with only a few homes.

Could the wind blow the insecticide onto Roger?

In this concentration, Roger had to have been in the middle of it.

- Why would he do that? - Well, there's only one reason. A girl.

- What are you basing that on? - I was a boy.

And I searched the 1987 real-estate records.

Guess who lived in one of the only finished houses?

- Janelle Brown, head cheerleader. - He was tutoring her in math.

Why would he wade through a swamp to get to the house? There had to be roads.

It was quicker. She was a cheerleader.

She was hot. He couldn't wait.

It's a boy thing again.

Or maybe he was peeping through her window. He could have been a peeper.

Dr Hodgins?

Do boys change after high school?

Only on the outside.

- Whoever thought hair like that looked good? - Hey, check this out.

- This is weird, right? - It's a yearbook.

It's supposed to be weird and humiliating.

Yeah, but this is the "Hall of Fame" section.

It's usually "Best Smile" and "Most Likely To Succeed".

This is "Most Likely To Get Head Stuck Up Own Ass",

and "Best Rack", and "Most Likely To Die Of VD".

Someone put a prank yearbook in the capsule to embarrass everyone 20 years later?

Yep. Look at this.

Brought to you by "Gruff & Grim".

So we're looking for two kids who put a yearbook and a body into the time capsule?

OK, Bones. So there was this girl, OK? Sherai Bellapini. Sherai, Sherai.

She was the coolest, hottest girl in high school.

I wanted to ask her to the prom. I bribed the suck-up who did announcements...

- Suck-up? - Kids who did anything to please teachers.

So I get on the loudspeaker and I ask her to prom.

- Uh-huh. - On the loudspeaker.

- This is your embarrassing story? - The loudspeaker.

- Yeah. - I got laughed at for weeks.

- Did she go with you to the prom? - Sure.

OK, this is merely another story of victory and sexual conquest.

Bones, they laughed at me. Laughing has got to count for something.

There's no public humiliation in that story. You don't know what public humiliation is.

- Hi. - Hi.

Ms Stinson, Special Agent Booth, uh...

- Was your name Janelle Brown in school? - Yes.

Mind if we come in and ask you a few questions?

Of course, yeah. Come in.

Look at her.

I wish I was Janelle Brown again. At least parts of me do. You know what I mean.

- You lived at 224 Green Gates Crescent? - Yeah, just a few blocks from here.

- It backed on to a swamp. - I was scared of that swamp as a little girl.

- How well did you know Roger Dillon? - Oh, I don't know. He was my math tutor.

And, well, math wasn't really my thing, so I needed a lot of help and...

Well, he kind of developed a crush on me.

He was actually kind of cute in a non-jock way, you know? Sweet.

- Oh, he loved The Cure. - For what? What did he have?

It's a band, Bones. It's... it's... That's a band.

- Did he tutor you at your place? - My place or the library. Usually my place.

I think he liked it there. His own place wasn't very nice.

Do you remember seeing him on June 14, 1987?

- Mom? - I'm in here, honey.

It would have been the last day of school.

- I'm going to Pete's. - OK.

- What's going on? - These people are with the FBI,

investigating the time capsule murder.

Nothing to worry about. Your parents were friends of the victim.

- Whoa, that sucks. - Yeah. Honey, why don't you go to Pete's?

If you're gonna be late, give me a call. You have your cellphone?

- I have it. - OK.

- What are you doing? - See you later, Mom.

You know, I think I actually did see Roger on the last day of school.

- Why? - Like I said, he was my tutor.

Why would he come on the last day of school?

Honestly? He brought me my graded final, but he'd have used any excuse.

I didn't encourage him, but...

High school was so long ago, none of us is the same person.

I'm sorry Roger ended up that way, but after he dropped off my final,

I never saw him again, so...

- Uh... - Thank you, Ms Stinson.

Oh, yes. Of course.

Could you please call up Terry Stinson from the Foothill yearbook?

Track team, vice president of the student council.

- Runner-up for Mr Popularity. - Where does it say that?

It's the type, sweetie. He's Mr Second Best.

It's like when you want Brad Pitt and you get Matthew McConaughey.

Pull up the photo of his son Alex.

Alex Stinson shows three classic examples of Mendelian inheritance.

A cheek dimple on the left side, cleft chin, and detached ear lobes.

Distinct facial features, wide-set eyes, asymmetrical nostrils.

- Just like his dad. - It's nothing like his dad.

Oh, boy.

Could you please replace Terry Stinson with Roger Dillon?

Oh, boy.

20 years ago, Terry Stinson finds out that Roger Dillon has sex with his girlfriend.

Then he kills him.

- Of course we'll take a DNA test. - In a murder investigation,

we can't rule anything out.

Did you know it was possible that Alex was not your biological son?

What?

- Is it possible? - Is it?

Can I answer that after the DNA test?

- I guess I just did. - So you didn't know?

- Terry didn't know. - Alex was born on January 7, 1988.

I don't believe this.

That means you were pregnant in the spring already.

You just wanted me to believe that the baby was mine?

No, no.

I wanted the baby inside me to be yours.

I don't get this. Roger? But he was...

- Why did you sleep with Roger? - He was sweet.

I knew he was nuts about me. I liked feeling special.

- Let's face it, back then, you were that guy. - What guy?

The guy who did anything he wanted. You didn't need me.

Roger, he came over that day. He came through the swamp, he was filthy.

- His father had just beaten him up. - Did you tell Roger you'd gotten pregnant?

Yes. He wanted to marry me.

He said he could get the money for us to go away together, but I told him I didn't want to.

I was back with you by then.

- Only you. - Why didn't you tell me?

When I said I was pregnant you were so happy.

That's when I knew that you loved me, that you weren't that guy,

that we could have a great life together, and we did.

I'm sorry. I had to borrow one of your pictures.

You stole that. What happened to Roger?

I don't know. He had the money. He was never happy here.

I figured that he just took off by himself.

I am so sorry.

I always wanted to tell you the truth, but I just...

I just couldn't figure out how to tell you that Alex wasn't yours.

Alex is my son.

We are a family.

The murder happened at night, on a school playing field - not a likely place to find adults.

Plus, teenagers are dominated by their ids, which make them act irrationally.

Physiologically, their judgment�s impaired by an incomplete frontal lobe.

You're what? 22, right? How's your frontal lobe? Almost there?

- Again, a hectoring tone. - All right, I'm sorry. Just keep going.

No sexual assault, no theft. The watch and other effects were still on him.

Further indications this was just a rash and youthful act.

- Good, for a kid. - This is guesswork.

It's a logical interpretation of subjective analysis by an expert in his field, actually.

The killer knew the exact date the time capsule would be opened.

He's been waiting 20 years for that body to be found,

so he could reconcile himself with his past and finally pay for his crime.

- Like Terry Stinson? - No!

I think it's someone who has been punishing himself for years.

Self-destructive, working far below his potential.

- Then why didn't he just confess? - Most likely he has in some way.

- The question is, were you listening? - Agent Booth is an incredibly good listener.

Yeah, I really am. It's my strength.

Then perhaps the time capsule was just a convenient place to stash a body.

You know, profiling's not an exact science, but I hope I'm right.

I really want to tell my girlfriend I helped catch a murderer.

It'd be a good night for me.

The stain on the undersurface of Roger's mandible was liquid petroleum.

- An oil product? - Common, right? But I did further analysis.

I found microscopic particles of granite embedded in the petroleum.

Also, all over the broken seal to the time capsule.

- Definitely not John Adamson's ice skate. - Not unless he skated on asphalt.

20 years ago, what I'm seeing as petroleum was asphalt.

It was driven into Roger's bone with a flat, metal...

- An asphalt shovel. - Yeah.

Gil Bates worked paving driveways.

Roger was my best friend.

Gruff and Grim, right?

- Who was who? - I was Gruff, Roger was Grim.

So you went out to the field that night to plant the yearbook in the time capsule?

- Surprise everyone 20 years later? - You dug up the capsule

and you broke the seal with the asphalt shovel.

Your amigo, Grim, wanted his money back?

Money you'd earmarked for your business - those computers that would make you rich.

You couldn't do that, Gruff. You couldn't give Grim the money.

- Stop using those names. - Did he tell you it was for Janelle?

I bet he did. I bet old Grim said, "I'm sorry, Gruff, but there's this girl, and our plans..."

- Stop using the names. - Then Grim said, "My dream has changed."

"You and me, Grim and Gruff, we're finished."

Stop it! You don't know what you're talking about!

We don't know what?

Did he tell you it was because she was pregnant?

He should have told you. You would have understood.

- Understood what? - Janelle was pregnant with Roger's son.

Oh, my God.

He didn't say. He just said that he loved her.

I told him. I told him how stupid that was.

I said that she'd never look at someone like him.

He got all pissed and then he hit me.

And I just... I went and I picked up the shovel, and I just...

I just jabbed.

It was an accident. It was just a jab.

He held his neck and he went all white.

The wound severed both his jugular and his carotid.

- He would have died quickly. - He did.

I held him and I told him I was sorry.

He knew that I didn't mean it.

I loved the guy.

- He has a kid? - Yes.

I hope I get the chance to tell him about his father.

All right, there was this kid - junior year.

Is this another story where you think you were humiliated, but you were not?

Just listen to me. This kid, junior year, Harlan Kinny.

He was one of those real weird-looking kids.

He had this big Adam's apple sticking out.

And he wore his dad's clothes to school, with the whole stretchy belt around his waist.

- It's practical. - You're not listening.

He was one of those real superior types, always talking out of a thesaurus.

One day, he came up to me and a bunch of my buddies

and he called us Philistines. You know what that means?

Yeah. A Philistine is a smug, ignorant person

who is antagonistic toward higher intelligence.

I didn't know what it meant till I looked it up. I told Kinny, "I'm not Philistine, I'm Catholic."

- It's pretty close to humiliation. - No, it's embarrassing.

- That's not the humiliating part. - Oh.

My buddy picked Kinny up and dangled him over the stairway.

He begged and cried and everyone laughed.

How is this about you?

- I laughed. - I don't understand.

I could have stopped it. I could have stepped in and helped the kid out. Instead I... I didn't.

I chose my side and it was the wrong side.

So you were humiliated because you didn't act like a hero?

Fine. Fine. You know what? I'm perfect. My life was perfect!

It's a good story, OK? But it's a bad one. It's both, I guess.

- I mean, I get it. - Yeah?

- What is that? - Nothing.

Well, you evolved.

And evolution is very impressive, and that is definitely not nothing.

- This? - Did you bring that for me?

- No. - Good, because it's the wrong Smurf.

I liked Smurfette, that's Brainy Smurf.

Smurfette was stupid, shallow Smurf, who only had her looks.

Look, you're better than Smurfette. You have your looks and a whole lot more.

You did bring that for me - to charm me in case I didn't find your story impressive.

But I did.

So I did impress you?

That's what impressive means, dummy. You're such a Philistine.

I tell you what, you can hold onto this and it will remind you how far I've come.

- I forgive you for snorting, Booth. - Evolution is a long, long process.

It takes hundreds of years.

Thousands.

Why do you have to always correct me?

To help you evolve.

What's that mean?

ENGLISH SDH