All language subtitles for CSI 3x12 - Got Murder.EN

(bird cawing)

(frog croaks)

(cawing)

(cawing)

(cawing continues)

I don't think I can get
a clear shot.

It's a peregrine
falcon.

No, it's not.
It's a hawk.

You can't see anything
this time of day.

We should come back at dawn.

But I'm so behind
on my life list.

I still don't have
a western wood-pewee

or a solitary sandpiper.

What, do you think
they're going to kick you

out of the club?

John saw
a dickcissel
earlier today.

It could be
gone tomorrow.

John's full of...

(cawing)

Corvus corax.

A common raven?

So what?

(cawing)

Well, someone's missing
a contact lens.

That's not all
they're missing.

You know, ravens, like
eagles, have been known

to travel 30 miles from
roost to feeding ground.

30 miles in every direction.

Pi-r-squared.

That means
that we're looking at a...

2,800 mile search area.

"Once upon a midnight dreary

"While I pondered

"Weak and weary

"Over many a quaint
and curious

Volume of forgotten lore."

We're up a tree
and you're quoting Poe.

Give me something.

"Quoth the Raven,
'Only this...

and nothing more."'

(cawing)

You'll be pleased to know

the eyeball was only
slightly desiccated.

And what about the iris?

Still blue.

Color distinction

means the body's been dead
less than 48 hours.

Yeah, I sent some
vitreous fluid to tox.

The rest to DNA.

So, what else have
you found in our nest?

Well, let's see...
I've got some foil

a leaf, a feather
and plastic.

Feathers.

For warmth.

Seagull feathers.

Well, the only place
we'd have seagulls around here

would be Lake Mead.

But only when the fishing's
good.

And we got some
ground limestone.

Not found at Lake Mead.

You know, ravens
are incredibly intelligent.

They have a brain capacity
comparable to dolphins.

Means they know where to shop.

We found the eye here.

I'm thinking that
she shopped here

where limestone is used
as ground cover.

Did you know
the average Nevadan

generates three times more waste
than the average American?

Yeah, well,
that's tourist trash.

13 million
pounds per day.

I went to a recycling forum
in March.

So, the landfill manager says
this is the active cell.

Spotter says cell lift
moves forward 20 feet a day.

That puts the active cell
right...

pretty much
in front of us.

Man! You find the best evidence
in the nastiest places.

You are what
you throw away.

It's like peeling
an onion

into peoples' lives.

Well, this onion
is our time line

so peel back accordingly.

The electrolyte and glucose
levels in the eye were normal.

Means your victim wasn't
dehydrated or diabetic.

Other than that...

We're flying blind.

David.

Hey, Griss.

A 35-year-old male.

Oar salesman.

Dropped dead at work.

Apparent heart attack.

Not under the care
of a physician.

Uh, no history

of high blood pressure.

Just routine autopsy.

Go for it.

Yeah, we're all set,
Dr. Robbins.

Okay, David.

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 are
intact by palpation.

Irides are brown.

Slightly congested.

Hmm.

Unidentified dry black

substance on the front

of the teeth.
Gingiva and lips.

Okay. David,

open him up.

Uh... D-Dr. Robbins?

Sir, l-I have blood.

I have bleeding.

Get me my kit.

Come on.

Hold this.

Pulse is rising.

David, string me
a suture needle.

Go! Go!

Hey!

I think I may
have something here!

What do you got?

Whoa!

Got a leg.

Obviously female.

Obviously.

Whew.

Whoo!

I'll bag it.

All right,
I got a torso and head.

Missing an eye.

(cawing)

Okay, so, uh

how hot do you think it is,
underneath all this trash?

I don't know,
what do you think...

ballpark at 120 degrees?

So this is yesterday's trash.

Dead body.

Minimum 18 hours
in this heat.

She should be
totally bloated.

Yeah, she's not.

Uh, she's really torn up.

Bulldozers are vicious.

Yeah, I think they only finished
the job.

How did she get here?

Heard you got to be
superhero today.

I consider myself
a superhero every day.

Got anything on
Our Lady of the Dump?

OOD 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 postmortem.

So we've got no arms, no prints.

What kind of identifying
characteristics do we have?

Second degree midline
episiotomy scar.

Well, that
narrows it down

to more than half the
women in this country
who gave birth.

But there might be
one other thing.

At first I thought

appendectomy,
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.

You're my hero, Al.

All right,
what do we know?

That all of this trash
was found around the victim.

And she was buried
with some very expensive trash.

Yeah, there's nothing wrong

with this frying pan.

Could've gone to
Goodwill or someplace.

Home pregnancy test.

Negative.
Better luck next time.

Someone... does not like
frozen peas.

They weren't shopping at Costco.

They paid way too much
for ice cream.

There's a good chance our vic
was wearing this shirt.

Let's start trying
to narrow this down

to a neighborhood, huh?

Excellent idea.

Uh, marker or sort?

Sort.

Please.

First up:
"178 Spaulding Meadows."

Uh, "174 Storm Cloud Lane."

A second

174 Storm Cloud Lane.

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.

I thought, uh, disc
replacement surgery

involved fusing
bone to bone.

Eh, typically,
but it can limit mobility.

With that little disc,

your body doesn't know
the difference.

Matches range of motion,
flexibility

and an axial rotation
of a normal spine.

Still in clinical trials.

Less than
a thousand surgeries

have been performed
in this country.

Oh, well,
I like those odds.

You'll like this even better.

Medium endplate, size 12,
polyethylene component

and a six-degree
lordosis angle.

Narrowed it down to one.

Amy Ennis.

Austin, Texas.

Tourist?

(chuckles)

That's for you
to find out.

Hey, is this all of them?

Yeah, every last one
on Storm Cloud Lane.

Cans are on
private property,

it's not trash day,

how did you get consent?

I talked to the president
of the owner's association.

What'd you threaten her with?

A return visit.

Hey, guys?

I got blood.

Yeah.

Yeah me, too.

Well, that makes five.

Let's see if
any of it's human.

These two are human.

If the vic was in here

blood would have pooled
to the bottom.

Yeah, and blood
dripped down the
side of this one

as the hydraulic
arm dumped it.

(clanking)

This is our can.

And that's our house.

You found blood...
in
my
trash can?

Any idea how it
got there?

No.

Do you know an
Amy Ennis from
Austin, Texas?

No.

So, you have absolutely
no idea what I'm
talking about?

Dad... you all right?

I'm fine.

What's going on?

I'm just asking your father
a few questions.

Why don't you go inside
and make some dinner?

What are you in the mood for?

Whatever you want.

Charlie, homework.

Hey. Get the job?

Later.

Divorced?

Yeah.

Five years.

I hear David's
resurrecting
the dead now.

(chuckles)
Yeah, our little
miracle worker.

I just came from
the hospital.

That guy's in IOU with
respiratory paralysis.

I did get a prelim
on his blood work...

looks like some sort
of an organic poison.

Well, that would explain
the discoloration

Robbins found
around his mouth.

Stick with me.

I'm telling you,
this is great.

You're going
to love this.

You're going to get
30 miles to the gallon,

very low maintenance.

Your people are
going to love it.

You know what?
I want you to tell them

to throw away
the manuals.

Call me for anything.

Marty Gibson doesn't
close a sale,

he opens a
relationship.

That guy's a charmer.

Yeah, real Ricky Roma.

(dog yipping)

Do you want a treat?

Do you want a treat?

(yips)

May I help you, gentlemen?

I'm Warrick Brown,
this is Gil Grissom.

We're from the Las
Vegas Crime Lab.

Oh. Nanci Linden.

It's a pleasure to meet you.

We have a warrant

to search your premises.

What for?
For evidence
concerning

the attempted murder
of Fred Stearns.

Oh, he had a heart attack.

He's dead.

No, he didn't...

and he's not.

(dog barks)

Gigi, shush.

Shh!
(whimpers)

I'm sorry.

I'm not supposed
to bring her in here.

(whispering)

So, this was...

is
Fred's desk.

Nobody's touched it
since they took him away.

It's bad luck.

Middle desk
is Marty Gibson.

The one on the end
is Clyde Hinton.

Thank you.

Poison could've
come from

any of these
sources here.

Oral fixation

you think?

Constant need
for gratification?

In every way.

This guy was like
the monster closer.

You ever buy
a brand-new car, Griss?

Depreciation
doesn't make it

a logical investment.

It's not about logic.

It's about that
smell.

There's nothing like the smell
of a brand-new car.

How right you are.

Marty Gibson.

We're not buying,
we're looking.

If we need any help

we'll let you know.

Sometimes it's not
about what you need,

sometimes it's about
what you
want.

You always, uh,

lock your drawers?

Huh.

(snickers)

You're the one who super-glued
Fred's phone.

(chuckles)
"Chewing Gum:

Will turn any mouth black
for days."

(laughs)
(cell phone rings)

Warrick Brown.

I get it.
You're the funny guy.

You know the definition
of "kismet," Mr. Grissom?

Do you know the definition
of attempted murder, Mr. Hinton?

Just go with me for a second.

Go with you where?

Come on..."kismet."

Fate, or destiny

from the Arabic word meaning
to distribute, or divide up.

Smart guy.

Destiny is what
you make of it.

It's what gets distributed to me

while the other guy's
washing the stain off his lips.

Well, boys, just closed
another fatty.

Two hours of schmooze...
I can't lose.

Your lips.

Clyde!

Don't worry, Freddy.

I'll handle the client.

(laughs)

Look, everyone tries to get
an edge in this business.

I use jokes.

Fred Stearns
just passed away.

Again.

Dead guy. Not funny.

Okay, David, take two.

No luck on Amy Ennis's
next of kin.

The Austin PD
is still working on it.

Well, we know that
she had a kid.

Well, she gave birth.

That doesn't mean
that she had a kid.

So, what, we've
got nothing?

We have a Mercury Sable,
uh, Texas plates,

found in the lot
of the Tangiers hotel.

She's the registered
owner.

They're bringing
it in now.

If the poison was
administered orally

I may know
how it got into
the bloodstream.

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,

sends the whole system
off-balance,

stops the mucosa,
and causes an ulcer.

Opens a direct channel
from your digestive tract

straight into
your bloodstream.

I know a lot about
stress-related ailments.

Any word yet
on a poison?

Tox screen ruled out
the ink gum.

It could've been
a factor, though.

Uh, gum churns up
stomach acid...

instant
inflammation.

I don't care about
his indigestion, Doc.

We need to know what killed him.

Well, she wasn't in town
on business.

What's that?

(clicking tongue)

Oh!

Depends on what
her business was, I guess.

(chuckles)

Nothing risqu about
the rest of her wardrobe.

Maybe she got it here.
She could've met somebody,
you know.

Okay, I'm going
to fume.

(beeping)

(two beeps)

(tapping key)

According to Greg, the hairs
and the DNA from the toothbrush

are a match to the vic.

What about the prints
from her car?

I thought I messed it up,
so I ran it twice.

No errant prints,

all a match to
the same woman.

Amy Ennis.

No "Amy Ennis"
in the database.

Well, Amy Ennis is our vic.
It's her car.

Prints came back
to somebody named
Kelly Easton.

Kelly Easton...

Easton...

174 Storm Cloud Lane?

What's the first
thing you do

when you don't want
to be found?

Leave town.
Yeah...

and change your name.

Want a mulligan
on your first story?

"Divorced"?

What the hell was
I supposed to say?

My wife went out
to get her hair done

and never came home.

Well, maybe you gave her
a reason to leave.

Spousal abuse,
cheating...

Aw, you people.

You know, you were
here five years ago

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 I got left

are those kids
and this house.

Okay, you didn't
kill her.

At least back then.

I don't think
these belong to Dad.

Could place Mrs. Easton
at the house.

She came back
about a month ago.

Doorbell rings...

Huh, what do you say?

Hi.

(chuckling)

You tell me.

Whatever it is,
it must've worked.

She was back in your bedroom.

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.

So, she's really dead?

Yeah.

Yeah, I'm sorry.

Figures.

How's that?

She left without telling us.

Figures she'd die the same way.

I don't think
your mom knew

she was going to die, bud.

Whatever.

(muffled music playing)

Last time I saw my mother,
I was... in seventh grade.

She handed me my lunch and
said, "See you after school."

Did you know that she was back?

I never thought
that she was dead.

Can I sit down?

Yeah, sure.

Nora, I'm sorry.

I know this has got to be

very hard
on you and your brother.

And my dad.

Is your dad seeing anybody?

Does he have
a girlfriend?

How could he?

This is where I found the hairs,

in between the packages
of frozen peas.

Mrs. Easton was
a brunette.

And we found a warehouse worth
of frozen peas at the landfill.

Lack of swelling,
clean fractures...

She was frozen.

Skin and muscle
would've lost elasticity.

Fracture planes would've passed
through in a straight line.

I'm thinking somebody
in this family

stuck her in here,
waited till trash day.

Well, the garbage tells us
how she was killed.

Now I want to know who.

That unknown substance

I collected from
Marty Gibson's coat...

Possibly reptilian skin?

How'd you know?

Tox report.

The organic poison
came back snake venom.

I think maybe it's time

to open a relationship
with Marty Gibson.

We found reptile skin
on your jacket sleeve.

So, unless
you're shedding,

we want to know
how it got there.

Whoa, gentlemen,
slow down.

Can I get you
a cup of coffee?

Nanci...?
No, thank you.

Doughnut? Everybody
loves doughnuts. Nanci.

No doughnuts.

Fred Stearns
dropped a dime

at Girls, Girls, Girls
and wrote it off.

Kaido Computers.

Software guys are nuts,
into the kinky stuff.

End of the day,

they're driving Fred's cars.

Neiman Marcus,

jewelry
department?

Fred knew you got
to spend money to make money.

Well, here's
a freaky one.

Since when are two dozen mice
a business expense?

Since I got The Pet Place
to buy a mini-van from me.

My cousin works there.

You got kids?

I could put you
in a wagon

way below sticker.

Marty, what'd you do
with the mice?

What do you care?

You going to arrest me
for blurring the lines?

No.

We were leaning towards murder.

Watch your step.

(rattling)

You guys are
completely overreacting.

It's just a hobby.

See?

Fuzzies. They're food.

You know it's illegal
in the state of Nevada

to have venomous snakes?

If you handle them correctly,
snakes are harmless.

I know what I'm doing.

Yeah, that's what
we're afraid of.

I didn't even know
she was dead.

Thought she'd
just left me again.

Well, it's a good thing

you didn't tell the
kids mom was back.

My client agreed
to talk to you,

not be harassed by you.

You're right.

Well, you were excited
to see her.

Why wouldn't the kids be?

I'm an adult.

That's right,
you're an adult...

knowledgeable,
experienced...

aware of Nevada Statutes,
Chapter 156:

Administration of Estates
of Missing Persons.

It's a matter of public record.

We've been filling out

those forms
for five years.

You're jumping the gun.

It's four years,
11 months, one week.

So what?

Well, in three weeks,

Mrs. Easton's estate
can be distributed

to her husband.

You had a half
a million dollar

life insurance policy
on your wife.

And she had one on me.

We did that for the kids.

But you're not dead,

and she wasn't either,
two days ago.

You know, for
an unemployed guy

you're doing a lot of spending.

I mean, Tiffany's,
La Perla

International
Watch Company...

Expecting a windfall?

Don't answer that.

You're fishing.

No, I do that with a pole.

No, I'm just thinking out loud.

Your wife disappears.

Five years
after the fact,

you get the money.

You've earned it, it's yours,
but she screwed you up.

She showed up.

I did not kill my wife.

What happened, Daniel?

The sex wasn't as good
as you remembered it,

or the money was better?

What happened?

The scales found on your
suspect's jacket are keeled:

Diamondback rattlesnake.

All his other snakes
have smooth scales.

A snake fang is basically

a hypodermic
needle.

Oral glands hold in the venom...

like the barrel.

When aggravated,

the jaw muscles

push on the toxin,
like a plunger.

Only, our victim
didn't have

any puncture wounds.

Well, your guy's
probably

pretty comfortable
with his collection...

otherwise, he'd be dead...

which means,

he could've milked this one.

And brought the venom
with him to the dealership.

Well, the trace lab
found venom proteins
in his coffee cup.

Could that have killed him?

Well, I know a lot of hot shots
who drink the stuff...

manly,
daredevil B. S...

and they're still alive.

Because
typically,

the stomach acids

would kill the venom

before it reached
the bloodstream,

but if you had an ulcer...

Hmm, then you're
seriously screwed.

Was there any abnormal
tissue death? Necrosis?

No.

That rules out his
diamondback rattlesnake.

Rattler venom's hemotoxic.

It means

it predigests the tissue
before swallowing.

Well, the ELISA test came back
positive for alpha-neurotoxins.

Well, your guy likes them mean.

These other two
could've done the job,

both neurotoxic.

Which would send the body

into complete
and total paralysis, right?

Explaining why

the victim ended up
in the morgue the first time.

Okay, blood
from the bedroom chair

and the kitchen
belong to Mom.

That's what I figured.

Hair from the freezer...
nicely preserved, by the way...

and hairs
from the bedroom pillow,

also the victim's.

Okay, this is all great,

but, uh, why the 9-1-1 page?

The moral of my story...

share and share alleles.

Pubic hairs
in the bed,

not Mom's.

The daughter.

Dad did have a new girlfriend.

The bracelet was a gift.

From your father.

Diamonds and platinum,
that's, uh, pretty fancy.

Guess he thought
I deserved it.

Why?

For taking care of everything.

Everything?

Laundry, groceries,
carpool for Charlie...

Is that it?

Nora...

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.

My father loves me.

Oh, my God.

Are you lactating?

You're pregnant.

You sick son of a bitch.

Did you think we weren't going
to find out she was pregnant?

Who?

Oh, stop it. Your daughter.

Nora is pregnant?

Out the clueless routine.

What are you accusing me of?

Daniel!

Your wife came back
and saw what you were doing.

So, you killed her, and you
tried to buy off your daughter

with a diamond
bracelet.

I bought that for my wife.

Your daughter's telling
a different story.

Nora? How could
she even know about...

I'm going
to nail you for murder.

What do you
mean, "None"?

Well, venom's
like perfume...

highly specific
recipe.

Protein ratios vary
from species to species,

even snake to snake.

The protein level
of your three "hoses"

doesn't match the sample taken
from your vic's coffee cup.

So, Marty was
telling the truth?

It was just
a coincidence
that he owns

poisonous snakes,
and his co-worker
was envenomated.

A coincidence

is a scientific
anomaly.

Maybe he just
got rid of the snake.

Girl called all hysterical.

Said a snake ate her dog.

It's a monacled cobra...
it's not indigenous.

Comes from southeast Asia.

I asked her
where she got it from.

She said her co-worker
asked her to snake-sit.

Marty Gibson.

Mm-hmm.

You're that guy
from the crime lab.

Well, you're a little late.

Bastard told me he had a sure-
fire way to win the Cabo trip,

and that he'd take me with him

if I just watched his snake
for a couple of days.

I can't believe
what an idiot I am.

Never trust a car salesman.

What else did you do
for Marty?

Well, not
that.

Did you get him coffee?

Oh, well, now I do.

Now
you do?

Yeah. 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.

"The goodwill guy?"

Yeah.

The guy
with no client list of his own,

has to live off
the hand-me-downs of the others.

Hey, Marty, uh, sure could use
another refill.

You want anything?

Easy on the sugar.

Booming right up.

Well, sometimes access
is all you need.

Nanci.

Do you know what a syllogism is,
Mr. Gibson?

Sylla-what?

A syllogism.

Aristotelian logic.

Two premises
equal one conclusion.

"A" plus "B" equals "O."

Right.

So, you're the snake guy.

You're also the goodwill guy
who gets the coffee.

So, when someone is poisoned

with snake venom
in their coffee,

"A" plus "B" equals you.

I busted my ass
out on this floor

to get a desk up
there, and for what?

So Fred can make
me his bitch?

So you kill him?

Fred killed himself.

Guy was like a goldfish.

He would have eaten
himself to death

before he tossed
me a client.

And one good client
breeds seven more.

Without the one,
I keep slipping.

There's two directions in
this business... up and out.

It's a numbers game.

I'm 35 years old.

I got six guys
ready to move me out.

Opportunity knocks,
you open the door.

I guess it's just too bad
he had an ulcer.

Who doesn't?

Okay, if I can
just have you lay back.

All right, Nora, now I'm going
to need you to relax.

Okay, now take
a deep breath.

Good.

All right,
another deep breath.

(no audio)

She's a virgin?

What are we
talking about,

an immaculate
conception?

More like
the immaculate
perception.

Pseudocyesis...
imagined pregnancy.

It's all in her head?

Well, that would explain what
she was doing in Dad's bed.

Fantasizing.

Wow.

"When the desire
to become pregnant is so strong

"hormone levels
can change,

setting off all the biological
signs of pregnancy."

It kind of makes sense.

Hormones travel
the same channels

as adrenaline.

"Swollen abdomen,

"lack of menstruation,

and sometimes
bilateral galactorrhea."

Milk production in both breasts.

Leaking can be brought on
by stress.

"Emotional or physical stimuli

"cause prolactin to shoot
through the endocrine system,

"ending in the mammary glands,

and triggering the cells
to lactate."

The father was clueless.

About all the women in his life.

Hey, hey.

Check out these photos.

The two stains on the
inside of the shirt
we found at the dump

tested positive for Nora,

but the stains on the
outside, bloodstains,

are definitely Mom's.

The bracelet was Mom's.

Greg checked the epithelials.

Nora's in love with her father,
in an Electra kind of way.

Nora, is this your shirt?

Yes.

Can you explain to me

how your mother's blood
ended up on it?

No idea
how it got there?

No.

Well, you told me
that this bracelet

was a gift
from your father.

He claims that he bought it
for your mother.

Oh, no.

It's mine.

I think you feel the same way
about your father.

Guess who's back?

And then you put your mother
in the freezer

and you waited until trash day.

That's a horrible story.

That's not a story.

It's what the evidence tells us
really happened.

What kind of a mother
would do that?

I'm helpful.

I do what needs to be done.

I know. You take care of things.

I never ask for anything!

And all you wanted

was the one thing
that you couldn't have.

It's not my fault.

I'm innocent.

You were innocent, Nora.

You're not anymore.

What are you doing?

You're under arrest

for the murder
of Kelly Easton.

No, but I'm going
to have a baby!

(sighing)

Well, she's going
to retain an attorney.

He's going to advise her
to plead insanity.

Good defense.

Yeah.

Have you ever seen
anything like this before?

How it manifested? No.

But the cause?

People throw things away
every day.