All language subtitles for Bones S04E05 The Crank in the Shaft

- Excuse me.
- Excuse me.

- Six, please.
- Four.

I got it.

- Somebody already pushed it?
- Yeah.

- Sorry about that.
- Yeah.

- Is our coffee machine still broken?
- It was on Friday. And I couldn't chance it.

Well, I filled out a 1612 repair
authorization

for office equipment under $200,
but I never heard back.

Man, this guitar is bitching.

- I'm sorry.
- Excuse me.

How's the third-quarter P&L?

I processed a stack of orders
and returns with Patty on Friday.

She was still reviewing them when I left.

Oh, my God! What's going on?

The conscious mind represents
only one-sixth of our brain's activity.

Now I want you to both appreciate
the power of the subconscious

- and our quest for its secrets as we...
- Stop!

Dr. Brennan, you can't dismiss over
100 years of psychological research.

I'm not even actually listening.

Your leg has not stopped moving
since we've started this session.

Something you should've noticed.

I assumed he was anxious to leave,
as he is every session.

Yeah? Well, that's not it.

Okay, a guy at work, Special Agent
Graham Kelton, died last week.

I'm so sorry.

That's awful, Booth.
Were you good friends?

He was a creep.

So then your agitation comes from...

Kelton had the best desk chair
in the office building, all right?

Lumbar support, cushioned arms,
Macintosh oak finish.

- And?
- And I want it!

I put a request in.
But so have all the other agents.

I mean, this is one sweet chair.

You are anxious
that you won't get a dead man's chair?

Right. Mine, it won't even recline anymore.
Get this, Charlie Baron, okay?

He had been putting requests
in Human Resources

even when Kelton was on his deathbed.

All right? Is that low or what?

Hey, Bones,
maybe you can write me a doctor's note

saying that I need the chair.

- What?
- Yeah. Something along the lines

that I got like a bad back
and the actual lumbar support

- could enhance my job performance.
- I'm not a medical doctor.

The answer's no.

You're obviously trying to enhance
your status with your co-workers

by acquiring something that they all covet.

- You want a throne.
- Back support, okay?

I'm just looking for a little back support.

Perhaps you've been feeling
inadequate at work lately?

- Compensating in this...
- Booth. Right. Be right there.

- Got a case. See you.
- Okay.

Agent Booth, I really think that we're
touching on something important here.

Thank you.

If I could help you
get a better chair, I would.

Well, thank you.
But if I wanted a better office chair,

- I'd just buy one myself.
- No, no. That's not how it works, Bones.

When you work for the Man,
he buys all the office furniture.

Which man?

You're kidding me, right?
There's no actual man.

- Then who buys the office furniture?
- Never mind, Bones. Just never mind.

Excuse us. All right, pardon me.

Sorry. So sorry. Excuse us.

Coming through.
That's it. Watch out.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

- Okay.
- Look at that.

That's it, folks.
Just take a step back.

Hey, Cam.
You're a real doctor, maybe you could

do a pal a favor
and write me a note for my back.

- The chair?
- Yeah.

This is a chance for you to be creative.

- Well, tell us about the leg.
- Given the pump, female victim.

The skin elasticity, what's left of it,

indicates she was probably between
20 and 40 years old.

Striations on the bone
suggests the flesh was scraped away.

And the remaining soft tissue
appears to have been scavenged.

Whoa, whoa!
What are you thinking, huh?

- Little respect.
- I wasn't taking a photo of the leg.

I was taking her picture.

You're the most beautiful woman
I've ever seen in the elevator.

Back up there. Take him out of here.

- Take care of him.
- Sorry, sir. Come on. Let's go.

Did you find anything besides the leg?

The remains are smeared
along the entire length of the hoistway.

Wow! God, that's nasty.

Well, I'm gonna need a spatula
to scrape off all the flesh and the organs.

The bones are in hundreds of pieces.
I want them bagged.

Judging from the amount
of putrefactive liquid on top of the car,

she landed here first,
wedging up against the shaft.

So when it went up and down, she...

That's not good.
That's bad. That's not good.

I don't see any hemorrhagic tissue.

The victim was most likely dead
before she was put in here.

Well, fracturing indicates
she was dropped from quite a height.

It's the machine room.
It has the control system for the elevator.

- Who has access to this room?
- Only maintenance.

But they only unlock it
when the elevator is serviced.

The lock's been jimmied.

I don't know how this happened.
I run a safe building.

Right.
Except for the mangled dead woman.

It's the first unit.
Those cables raise and lower the cars.

Look at this. Okay.

So you think the victim's body could've
been, you know, pushed down there?

It's pretty small.

But I've seen bodies carried down
storm drains narrower than that.

Who tries to hide a body
by throwing it down an elevator shaft?

Someone who is toasted.

A joint. I can get DNA from the paper.

- Well, marijuana doesn't make you a killer.
- Yeah. Well, it makes you stupid.

Stupid enough to jam someone
down an elevator shaft?

Sad. Woman's whole life reduced to
a bunch of glorified sandwich bags.

Not the woman's life, Fisher.
Just her body. Big difference.

- Whatever gets you through the day.
- What have we got?

Well, her clothes are shredded
and covered in particulates.

I'm still sorting through it all and pulling
traces to run through the GC mass spec.

Well, I've got the when.

Vitreous humor from an eyeball
confirms time of death

sometime between Friday night
and Saturday morning.

And her final meal was lettuce,
yogurt, chicken, and pita.

- Gyro.
- Most likely.

I've got them checking Greek restaurants
in the neighborhood.

Maybe someone made a delivery
to her office.

Dead before the fall.
Wish we knew how she died.

Tox screen came back negative.
No drugs, no poison, not even caffeine.

So ball's in your court, Fisher.

Dr. Brennan left me
with exactly 1,263 bone fragments.

Each one screaming pain,
violence, and hopelessness.

- So how about cutting me a little slack?
- The job gets easier with time, Mr. Fisher.

Any leads on who she is?

The hot chick is doing a sketch
from the few pieces of skull

I could locate and reconstruct.

- Hot chick?
- Sorry. The other hot chick.

It's a bow with hair.

It's brown. Natural colors.

- It might help Angela with her sketch.
- Right. You should give it to her.

- I'm kind of busy.
- And I'm kind of your boss.

Anything else, Mr. Fisher?

I also found hairline impact fissures
on the lateral epicondile.

And?

My grad thesis explored the effect of falls
on human bone.

I got the idea at my summer job.

- I'm afraid to ask.
- Suicide hotline.

Were you for or against?

Hey, got a bow for you.

Look, Hodgins. We both decided it's over.
I don't want any gifts.

The bow's from the victim.

Oh.

Right. Sorry. That's helpful, that bow.

How's it coming?

Well, according to my sketch
the victim was a model for Picasso.

Like it.

Mr. Cheerful's putting
more pieces together for me.

That's a good idea.

Just so you know, I'm cool.

You know, you and I,
we work together and that's it.

- Great, we're two professionals.
- Yep. Two professionals.

I should finish this. Because this is...

Yeah. Yeah.
And you know, and I've got lots to do.

I mean, lots. So... Okay.

Okay.

From the impact fissures, I'd estimate
her fall was from at least 60 meters.

Okay, first of all, I doubt
even Dr. Brennan could discover that

from impact fissures alone.

My thesis got me here. Ask her.

And second, that doesn't indicate
what floor she fell from

because the elevator car could've been
on any floor in the building

- when she landed on it.
- But since it's a 16-story building,

at about 10 feet per floor...

Eleven or 12,
if you count the space between floors.

Right. That's 252 feet.

That gives us 76.8 meters.
A difference of about 17 meters.

- That's...
- 52 feet.

Meaning she had to fall from the top floor
or the machine room above it.

Very impressive, Mr. Fisher.

Well,
I'll still wind up like her one day.

You ever think of finding a girlfriend,
Mr. Fisher.

I've got one.

- Jill.
- She's very beautiful.

Yes, now.

Patty Hoyle. She's one of the people
who didn't check into the building.

Good. Angela's sketch matches
the picture on her ID card.

Wait. So Cam is actually going to write
you a letter so you can get that chair?

That's right.
She understands how the game is played.

- She works for the same man as you.
- That's right.

The man who doesn't exist.

Wow. Can you imagine
working in a place like this?

No. It's not sterile and there's no room
for diagnostic equipment

- or sufficient bone storage.
- No, Bones. I meant the little cubicles.

Look at them.
They look like caged animals.

Throughout history,
you can find examples of human beings

adapting to virtually any environment.

- Like you and the chair.
- Me?

You're way off base on that one.

Ziff-Young,
hold the line, please.

Ziff-Young, hold the line, please.

Ziff-Young, hold the line, please.
Ziff-Young, hold the line, please.

- Thank you.
- Did you find out who it was?

The whole building's been wondering.

I was there, you know, in the elevator.
It was horrible.

Slow down, okay?
Did this woman show up to work?

Patty. Oh, my God.
Oh, my God, Patty? Really?

It's Patty, Chip.
It was Patty in the elevator.

Oh, man.

We still have to verify identity
with dental record...

Hey, everybody!
In the elevator, it was Patty.

- No, not Patty. Pretty Patty?
- Could you just keep it quiet?

- Please?
- What's going on? What about Patty?

This is Patty's area right over here.

Patty decorated the place herself.
Even painted the frogs.

- Lot of frogs.
- Well, she was that kind of person.

One who adjusted
to an impersonal workplace.

Nice chair.

- We're gonna have to look in her computer.
- Whatever you need.

It's all company property.
I can get you that password.

- So you last saw her on Friday?
- She was still here when I left, yeah.

Working late as usual. She was
the best office manager you can imagine.

See, Booth? Some people
accept their position as a drone.

- Are you calling me a drone?
Well, it's not a pejorative statement.

Without the drones, the hive would die.

- Anyone else work here late?
- Are you kidding?

I mean, when that clock hits 6:00,
it's like the running of the bulls.

- Especially on Friday.
- Did Patty have any enemies?

Well, we all have to break a few eggs
to make an omelet.

Do you know if she caught any
of your employees smoking marijuana?

Marijuana? No.

So no history of drug use here?

Ted Russo was arrested last year
for smoking pot at a concert in the park.

But he is a good worker. He promised me
he hasn't touched the stuff since.

- Ted?
- Yeah?

Hey, what's up?

Ted, the leg found in the elevator,
it was Patty.

Oh, dude.

Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan
would like to ask you a few questions.

Hi, Ted.

We found the remnants of a joint
in the room

where Patty could've been pushed into
the elevator shaft.

I don't smoke, man. My eyes
look like this because I have allergies.

We pulled DNA from the saliva
on the cigarette paper.

Really?

And we can get a court order
to take a sample from you.

All right. Sure.
I mean, I smoke a little weed.

Wouldn't you?
Locked up in these veal pens all day?

You know, collating invoices.

I'm an artist, man. But my dad cut me off.
So without this place, I'd starve to death.

What happened, Ted? Patty catch you?
Threaten to fire you and you killed her?

Ted, if you think these cubicles are small,
wait till you see the inside of a cell, pal.

How many times do I have to say it?
I didn't kill Patty.

- Would you call her a friend?
- She was the office manager, man.

You know, eyes always on me, you know?

"Why are you using
so many envelopes, Russo?

"Gee, like, maybe because
I'm sending out letters?"

- But I didn't kill her.
- Did you think she was a bitch?

No, I... What?

Here. Right there. See that?
That's Patty's car.

"Bitch."

- That an example of your artwork?
- No. Yeah, I didn't do that.

We found your roach
in the elevator machine room,

where we also found parts of Patty's body
crushed in the hoistway.

We found two weeks' worth of invoices
that you hadn't completed.

Maybe Patty caught you?
You keyed her car?

You went back to the machine room
for a quick toke and to chill.

Patty walks in on you, she catches you,
threatens your job, you kill her.

- Dude, you are so off base.
- Let me have your keys.

- Why?
- Is that a no?

Because I'll just go get a court order.

Look at that. Thanks for your cooperation.
Wasn't too hard.

The depressed intern is quite clever.

His analysis of the impact fissures
supports Booth's theory

- of where the body was dropped.
- Great.

- I don't know how to act around Hodgins.
- I beg your pardon?

We just ended a relationship that was
intense, both emotionally and sexually.

Now rather than intense,
we're just plain tense.

We don't look at each other.
Everything is fraught with meaning.

Brennan, you're supposed
to say something.

- I'm sorry. What am I supposed to say?
- Something that will make me feel better.

Um...

Well, both Hodgins and you
mean a lot to me.

But since you're my best friend,
I guess I could fire Hodgins.

What? No. I don't want you to fire him.

Well, that's good.
Because I would have disliked doing that.

Yeah. Of course.
Thank you, though, for the offer.

- It was... It was very sweet.
- So I helped?

Absolutely, sweetie. Thank you for this.

Cam? Hi.
Listen, I appreciate the doctor's note.

- But you can't send it in.
- Too late. That's just a copy.

This note,
it makes me sound like an invalid.

- You want the chair, don't you?
- No, I want to keep my job.

Quote, "Agent Booth suffers from
multi-level disk disease

"with herniation of the L-4, 5 disk,
producing radi-cululer..."

- Radicular.
- "...radicular pain in a sciatic distribution."

This letter's gonna get me a gurney,
not a chair.

I'm a coroner.
Tell them I confused you with a corpse.

- Am I the only one taking this seriously?
- You are now.

You're welcome.

- You look bummed.
- What? No.

It's just, sometimes answers
pose more questions than they answer.

Thus the melancholy.

- Did you discover cause of death, yet?
- Life, man.

Life is always the cause of death.

Okay. Now you're just a tool.
Why are you here?

Well, I was hoping you could maybe
give me a little inspiration,

being a mentor and all.

All I have are the facts, man.

Initial particulate analysis
shows a thin layer

of styrene acrylate copolymer
on her sweater.

- It's a copier toner.
- She worked in an office.

She probably got dirty
changing a cartridge.

She was an office manager
wearing a cashmere sweater.

I doubt changing the cartridge
was her responsibility.

Not to mention the toner dust
was all over her front and back.

Very cool.

She probably spent a little time
rolling around the copy room floor.

Huh.

Anything else?

Yeah. Yeah. There were some stains
on different sweater fragments

consisting of hesperic acid,
ascorbic acid, citrus sinensis, furfural,

proteolytic enzyme, alcohol,
triarylmethane dye, a.k.a., brilliant blue.

It's a food coloring.

Do you think the stain is relevant
to the case?

Before I can answer that,
I need to know what it is.

I get it. We live our lives in darkness
hoping for a sun that seldom shines...

Go away, Fisher.

Forensics analyzed Ted Russo's keys.

There's no evidence of red paint transfer
from keying the car.

This is a very efficient workspace,
don't you think?

It affords a minimum amount of
human interaction, so the workers

- can concentrate solely on productivity.
- It's demoralizing.

Don't look at me like that.
I'm not some kind of a drone.

You have superiors to whom you must
report, protocols you must follow.

All of your actions are documented
and reviewed.

Look, I do not work
for some faceless bureaucracy, okay?

I work for the United States government.
And so do you.

- Which makes you a drone, too.
- No.

No, I'm a completely
independent contractor

operating out of the Jeffersonian.
In the hive, I would be the queen bee.

- Still in the hive!
- In which I am the queen.

Okay, what do we got?

We found dried toner
in a section of the floor

and fabric threads that might match
the victim's clothes.

Send them all to Dr. Hodgins
at the Jeffersonian.

Says the queen bee.

- What?
- Nothing.

Use the ALS in this area.
Booth, the light?

Tell you what. I am gonna be
the king bee in my department.

- There is no such thing as a king bee.
- Sure there is.

And he's gonna have
the finest chair in the hive.

This area might also have
staining that could help

Hodgins identify
what else was on the victim's clothes.

Remove this section of carpet
and send it to the lab.

- What is it?
- I'm not sure.

Cam and Hodgins will have to check it.

- The lights?
- Yeah, yeah.

Booth. Right.
Just send it to my phone right away.

What's going on?

Computer forensics,
they went through the victim's hard drive.

Seems like she got
a really angry e-mail last week.

It's from somebody who works here.
Dave Farfield.

"You self-entitled bitch.
You are done playing with me.

"You'll pay. Trust me.
Love and kisses, Dave."

Do you have an employee
named Dave Farfield?

- Yes. Well, actually no.
- Okay. Which is it?

Well, Dave worked here for eight years.
But he was let go last Thursday.

- You fired him?
- That's right. Oh, God.

- What?
- Well, it was Patty.

She told me that Dave was a problem.
Disruptive. Not doing his work.

So it was Patty who got him fired?

She showed me an inflammatory e-mail
that he wrote to her.

And I agreed with Patty. It wasn't right.

And Dave knew that he was fired
because of Patty?

Yes.

Oh, my.

I don't get it. Keying someone's car
is a federal offense now?

- So you admit you did it?
- No.

But did you ever meet Patty?

Someone was just
accurately describing her.

I mean, what other kind of person
would call the FBI

because she had her car keyed?

Patty's dead, Dave.

Wait a second. Is that why I'm here?

Okay, look, sir.
I admit that I keyed her car.

But she purposefully parked across the line
so I couldn't get into my space.

I mean, every day,
I would have to squeeze the car in.

I scratched the whole side of my Corolla.

- And that car was cherry.
- You hated her.

She got me fired because
I turned her in to the parking guards.

But it's not like I'm the only one
that didn't like her.

- Your co-workers seemed to like her.
- No, no. She drove us all crazy.

She docked Hamid's pay one time because
he put too much half-and-half in his coffee.

And then she had me reported
for excessive use of the internet.

And I was the IT guy.

- So where were you Friday night, Dave?
- I was at Paradise Isle.

I met Chip over there.

- Chip?
- Chip's a guy from work.

I got a little tanked.
I bitched about getting fired.

Chip drove me home
because like I said, I got a little tanked.

- But I was home before 8:00.
- You got an alibi after that?

I was online,
I was online playing Knights of Atlantis.

You can check the log,
or ask Thrustkiller278 or Donnerparty819.

Right.

Her body sustained
severe postmortem damage.

Comminuted crush fractures
of the upper and lower extremities.

Burst fractures of the thoracic
and lumbar vertebrae,

and sheering of the spinous processes.

- Your reconstruction looks good.
- It's incomplete. I suck.

This woman was mulched
in an elevator shaft.

Given her condition,
I'm impressed with your work.

Come on, Mr. Fisher,
let me see a little smile.

That's the ticket.

I also found incomplete bilateral
compression fractures of ribs R-3 to R-11.

There's inward deformation
to the lateral aspects.

Curve patterns are consistent
with the outer edge of a shoe.

I looked at several sections
of the epidermis

from the area of patterned abrasions.

Didn't find any hemorrhage
in the soft tissue.

So she was stomped postmortem.

Why stomp on someone
when they're already dead?

Good question. And I have another.
Did you figure out cause of death yet?

I told you, ma'am. I suck.

Buck up, Mr. Fisher.

You give me cause of death,
I give you a Kierkegaard T-shirt.

- Hey.
- Hello.

- Your fries look good.
- You want some?

If you don't want them.
So I need some advice.

I have office hours, Miss Montenegro.
This isn't...

Look, how do I deal with Hodgins?
I mean, we broke up.

So I just want it to be over with,

so I can get back to work
without all this unspoken drama.

You know what I'm saying?

Mmm-hmm. Mmm-hmm.

Well, first, I think it's important
to find out what went wrong,

why you were involved
in an unsuccessful relationship.

- Who said it was unsuccessful?
- You're not together anymore, are you?

- Do you love your parents?
- Yes.

But you don't live together anymore.

Does that mean your relationship
with mom and dad was unsuccessful?

- I don't think it's the same.
- I do.

Sometimes you have to move on,
whatever your feelings.

When we create
intimate sexual relationships,

and if the relationship isn't functioning
the way it should,

one is left with anxiety and confusion
that will remain until dealt with.

Okay. So let's deal with it.

No. It's gonna take longer than us
sitting here for a few minutes.

We need to find out why you were
attracted to him in the first place.

He has kind eyes,
great sense of humor, cute ass.

- He does this thing where...
- No.

No, I meant, what are those things in
your past that have led you to Dr. Hodgins

and what he represents to you
as an archetype.

You know what?
I'm gonna look at my schedule.

But we should probably start
by meeting twice a week.

No. I think I'm okay.

- Therapy can't be rushed.
- Look, Sweets.

The way I look at it,
if I am shot by an arrow,

I don't need to know
where the arrow was made,

or what kind of bow it came from,
or even who it was who shot me.

I just need to get it out of my chest.

So thank you.

This has been helpful.
You're good.

Thanks for the fries.

Go ahead. Help yourself.

Found another mystery stain
on this piece of her skirt.

It's body fluid. So, it's your problem.

What have we here?

Do you think I'm off my game
because of Angela?

Because of all this residual stuff
between us?

Every time I look at her,
I still think about...

- Semen.
- What? No.

I was gonna say something
much more romantic than that.

- This stain, it's semen.
- Right.

I was also given a swatch of carpet
from the copy room that had a stain.

Also semen.

So now we know the victim
was on the floor of the copy room

and that there were semen stains
on the floor and now on her skirt?

My guess is the stains will match.

Patty Hoyle ordered food Friday night.

Had it delivered to the office.
Guess whose credit card she used?

Well, I really don't have enough data
to make an educated guess.

Her boss's, Gary Flannery.

So Cam is comparing the semen
found on the floor

with the stain found on the skirt.

It seems like pretty Patty was sleeping her
way up the food chain with the boss.

Flannery's married.
Maybe she threatened to expose the affair,

and he decided to kill her
to keep her quiet.

Just because tech support is in India,
doesn't mean I get special treatment.

- Patty knew that.
- Just call them, please.

Excuse me, Mr. Flannery.

I'd like to ask you a few questions
about your credit card statement.

- And I'd like to ask him for a DNA sample.
- Now.

Patty was a valued employee.
And that is all.

Come on. You think I'm gonna slam you
for having a little fun?

It happens.
Late night meetings. Low cleavage.

No. I'm a married man.

Then why did you give her
your credit card?

For the occasional business expense.

Room service, massage,
shiatsu, one hour, a purse,

- $300 worth of lingerie.
- I was not having sex with Patty!

- Then why did she have your credit card?
- And semen on her skirt?

No!

Patty decided to run an expendables audit.
All right?

She wanted to account
for every damn pencil.

Then she found out I was ordering
extra office supplies

and selling the surplus online.
She was gonna report me to corporate.

But she said she would keep her mouth
shut if I let her use my card now and then.

She had the whole office under her thumb.
Knew everyone's business. Sneaky bitch.

So she was blackmailing you.
That's not easy to stop, is it?

But I didn't kill her!
Please, you can't tell the head office.

I've got a family. I could lose my job,
my healthcare, my pension!

Shut up. Open your mouth.

Ahh.

What have you found? The pelvis?

The anteroposterior diameter
is 160 millimeters.

Transverse diameter is 240 millimeters.

Listen to me.

Reducing the pelvic inlet,
the orifice of life to a numerical abstract.

We need mathematical constructs

to understand any aspect of our world,
Mr. Fisher.

And those figures and equations
are beautiful. Like a musical composition,

they give life meaning and us the
possibility of knowing the unknowable.

Right.

There's no evidence
that the body was disarticulated

prior to being shoved down the chute.

So she either went in headfirst
or feet first.

Given that,

I've cut a hole that corresponds
to the measurements of the chute.

There's only one problem.

Any way you turn it, the pelvis won't fit.

So the body couldn't have entered
the shaft by that chute.

But since it still had to fall
a minimum of 60 meters...

It was dumped from the 16th floor.
I'll call Booth.

DNA results came back.
The two semen stains are a match.

The one from her skirt
and the one from the copy room floor.

But they're not from the boss. Sorry.

- Hey.
- Hey.

- Hi.
- Look, this tension between us, I hate it.

I mean, I know that we broke up
and everything.

But I've experienced loss before
and lived through it. And you have, too.

And I'm not gonna pretend
this didn't happen

because it might be easier
to break up that way.

I'm gonna relive us huddled last winter
in that cabin in Montana

when the lights went out, and the
heat went out, and laughing our asses off

when you tried explaining that
spectrometer thingy to me.

So I'm not gonna hide anymore.
And I'm not gonna walk on eggshells.

I'm just gonna accept that this whole
damn mess happened, and pain or not,

- I'm glad it did.
- Okay.

Okay.

So forensics didn't find any prints?

No. Cleaning crew came in
over the weekend

- and wiped down all the elevator doors.
- Well, no blood.

- What's that?
- What?

- That?
- Those are my cupcakes.

I got them for the HR officer at work.

- I heard she loves them.
- So fraud and bribery?

No, 12 years of service
and lumbar support, okay?

- It's all a matter of perception.
- Okay.

Don't say it like that.
"Okay," like I'm some kind of a kid.

Okay.

It's looking pretty good, too, Bones.
I mean, Willie Ackerman,

he got cut off the list because
he got his note from an acupuncturist.

And that doesn't even count. Boob.

Why don't you help me try this again?

Man! Forget it!

There's no way that I could keep that open
long enough to dump a body.

And I'm in shape.

Must've been someone
that was stronger than you.

You're kidding me, right?
Have you seen the people in these offices?

- Compared to them, I'm Hercules.
- Apparently not.

- Maybe you do need that chair.
- Or maybe it was two people.

1,263 bone fragments
and I've checked every single one of them.

And the only cause of death I see
is on the squamous temporal bone.

The localized staining would be
consistent with blunt force trauma.

Except there's no sign of that
on the exterior of the skull.

Then it was probably caused
by a ruptured aneurysm.

Which would make her death an accident.

And our pursuit for a villain merely
a cry for justice in an unjust world.

But if it's an accident, it wouldn't account
for the elevator or the semen.

True,
I should've found that earlier.

Dr. Brennan's gonna fire me, isn't she?

I guess while I was trying to see
the metaphorical sun,

I totally forgot that the chances of survival
in an unfriendly cosmos...

Have you considered Prozac, Mr. Fisher?

- Already on it.
- Then double your dose,

'cause you're bringing me down.

And that's hard to do because
I have worked with death for years.

And you are making it all look like
good times now.

So get it together, okay, Eeyore?

- What have you found?
- An aneurysm.

It should've been caused by trauma
to the ectocranial surface.

- But there's no evidence of trauma at all.
- Very good, Mr. Fisher.

What do you see there?

Two tiny punctures
approximately seven millimeters apart.

And what's very good?
I totally missed them!

You found the hemorrhagic stain
that led us here.

So what caused them?
Snake fangs? Eastern pipistrelle bat?

- A vampire?
- Fingerprint powder.

What are you doing?

A fine horizontal bar terminating
in two vertical protrusions.

Oh, my God. She was killed by a staple.

A staple?
How do you kill somebody with a staple?

It perforated the thinnest part
of the calvarium,

the squamous temporal bone,

causing Miss Hoyle's
pre-existing aneurysm to rupture.

And how do you get somebody
to stand still while you staple them?

There's a small depression near the wound
that suggests the stapler was thrown.

So whoever did this
didn't mean to kill her?

- No, I can't confirm that.
- It's common sense, Bones.

One doesn't usually use
a stapler as a murder weapon.

And they certainly couldn't have known
that she had an aneurysm.

I'll concede on both points.

Tell you what, my boys
are looking for the murder weapon.

Maybe we can pull some prints.

So Patty has sex with someone
who then hits her with a stapler.

- Odd work environment.
- Okay, you are not gonna believe this.

Yeah? Try topping
death by office supplies.

I was wracking my brain
over the trace analysis from the sweater.

Furfural, proteolytic enzyme,
triarylmethane dye...

Hodgins, Hodgins, Hodgins,
eyes are glazing over.

It's a Blue Hawaiian.

- What's a Blue Hawaiian?
- It's a potent cocktail.

Two of those puppies
and you're asking yourself,

"Hey, why am I naked
and who are all these people?"

Brilliant Blue FCF from the blue Curacao,
furfural from the rum,

proteolytic enzyme, pineapple,
alcohol speaks for itself.

Is this the sort of beverage
they would serve at the Paradise Isle?

Yeah. Comes in one of those
ceramic monkey heads.

So the killer must've stepped in
a spilled drink.

Given the high level of fructose and
sugarcane it would've adhered to his shoe.

He stomps on the victim. And presto,

her sweater lights up
with more traces than a luau pig.

Dave was at Paradise Isle.
But his alibi checks out.

Yeah. But Dave was there with Chip,
who gave him a ride home.

But we don't know what Chip did
for the rest of the night.

- Good work, Hodgins.
- Thanks.

- Now you can have a French fry.
- Hey, man, right?

Hey, you know,
I think Angela and I are cool now.

We talked and I think...

- Brennan.
- You know what? Just keep it to yourself.

We'll be right there. We gotta go.

You can have all the fries you want.
Pay for the bill, too.

- Yeah, but I wanted to talk to you guys...
- Thanks, Hodgins.

...about Angela and...

I was filing the DNA test
I ran on Gary's saliva.

- It does match after all?
- No.

But I did double check the semen sample
from the victim's skirt

with the one on the floor.
And they do match.

And according to the deterioration
of the sperm tail,

the ejaculate's from Friday night.

- That must've been some happy hour.
- The night she was murdered.

You can tell all that from their little tails?

Yes. And I can also tell
that our man is probably of Asian descent.

- By the way they swim.
- No.

From 42 specific DNA sequences.

Yeah. Probably more exact.

I'm not sure if that's helpful. There are
three billion Asian people in the world.

- But only one who works in the office.
- And he was at Paradise Isle.

Found the murder weapon, Chip.

- A stapler?
- Yup, stapler.

Picked it up in a dumpster
behind your building.

Someone threw it at her.
We found some of Patty's hair

embedded in the slide,
as well as a trace of blood.

So what do you need from me?

I'll help anyway I can. I liked Patty.

Enough to make love to her
in the copy room on the floor?

God, no. She was my boss.

We also found semen on the floor
of the copy room and on her skirt.

The DNA showed it was
from an Asian male.

You're the only person
of Asian descent in the office, Chip.

Look at this.
We have a court order here for your DNA.

Okay, you're right.
I was sleeping with Patty.

But I wanted to end it.

So I had a couple of drinks to get up
my courage and went back to the office.

- Then what happened?
- I told her we had to stop.

Because we were gonna get caught.

She threatened to report me
for sexual harassment

if I didn't keep sleeping with her.

- She was calling Gary to report me.
- So you threw the stapler at her?

It hit her in the head.
And she just dropped.

She had an aneurysm. You ruptured it.

- I didn't know!
- Then what?

I had to get rid of her. I panicked.

Dragged her into the hall,
opened the elevator doors,

- and shoved her down the shaft.
- How?

What do you mean "how?"

It must've been the adrenaline.

You know, with that,
you can lift a car, right?

- Is this enough adrenaline for you?
- Okay.

Look at that. Two people.
Who's helping you?

No one! It was just me.

Somebody had to have helped you
hold the doors open

- while you kicked her down the shaft.
- No!

- Who are you protecting, Chipper?
- Booth, can you take the door?

Got it. Got it. All right.

Okay, what is that?

It looks like a piece of fingernail.
Blue nail polish.

- Chip tried to protect me?
- Yes.

That's just like him, you know?

Whenever I have too many calls on hold,
he'd always answer the phone.

He totally didn't have to do that.

The best way for you to help him
is just to tell me the truth.

Okay. Well, we both have roommates.

So, sometimes
we'd make love in the office.

We were in the copy room.
And we thought we were alone.

But Patty came back for something
and she caught us.

And she said she was gonna report us.

I mean, no one in the office could date.
It was against company policy.

- She said we'd both be fired.
- So you threw the stapler.

I was so sick of her
sticking her nose in everything.

She went over to the phone
to report us to Gary.

And I threw the stapler.
I didn't mean to kill her.

I just wanted to be with Chip.

- I see you got your throne.
- That's right.

- The chair.
- Looks nice.

Another victory for the hive.

- HR said you called.
- Yes.

But I didn't lie to them.
I wouldn't do that.

Well, you must've said something.
Because she didn't even eat her cupcakes.

- And the chair was here.
- No. I just told them

why I felt it was important for you
to have it. That's all.

And why is that?
Because even a mindless drone

- deserves some perks.
- No.

Because of how important you are
to them.

I mentioned your dedication
and courage and sensitivity.

- Sensitivity?
- Yes, Booth.

I mean, even today with that
young woman who killed her boss,

it's very impressive.

Anyway, I said that a chair is a good way

to show the other employees in the office
how much those qualities are valued.

Well, it worked.

I'll never understand why you felt
you had to lie to get the chair.

I mean, you could've just told them
about yourself on your own.

Well, because that would've been
bragging. Even though it was true.

- You okay?
- Yeah, no.

It's just, I think some of the padding
in the back here is worn out.

And when I lean back, it hits.

So Agent Kelton overstated
the attributes of the chair?

No! No. No, this thing is great.

Kidding me?
It's... Even though it's an antique.

It doesn't tilt back yet.
And it smells like a 300 pound dead guy.

- So you like it?
- Are you kidding me? Love it!

I'm not giving this baby up
for anything, huh?

Whoa!

Uh-oh.

The little up and down thingy's
a little touchy.

Ow!

English - US - SDH