Original subtitles

[ Brennan ] In closing my lecture on interstitial lamellae remodeling,

I'd like to address some issues...

that are not strictly confined to forensic anthropology–

- [ Snoring ] - if it's all right with my host, Dr. Wexler.

I should think that all but the most joyless wonks–

and, yes, I do refer to you, Cyril Bibby–

would embrace a diversion from haversian systems.

My partner, F.B.I. Special Agent Seeley Booth,

gave his lecture at Scotland Yard last night.

Agent Booth, could you please stand up?

- [ Snoring ] - Hey, Booth!

Yeah. I'm here. What's up?

Agent Booth is the intuitive humanist,

while I am the logical empiricist.

Although recently, I have seen...

how destructive pure logic can be.

My own assistant, the most brilliant young man I've ever met–

Ended up a sidekick to a cannibalistic serial killer.

I-I haven't invited you to join me, Booth, so you can take your seat.

[ Woman Murmuring ] What I've learned from Agent Booth...

is that we scientists must arm ourselves...

with something other than pure logic.

A quality which deflects us from an irrational admiration for the rational.

Exactly.

[ Booth ] How old is that guy?

What– Ian? He's a year younger than I am.

And almost as brilliant. What'd you think of my speech?

It got better towards the end. You mean after you interrupted me?

I'm sorry. Look. It wasn't that I was bored.

Mostly, it's just that I was tired, okay? The boobies took me out for a beer last night.

“Bobbies.” They're called bobbies. I'm pretty sure that...

Sarah, Pauline and Jacqueline are, you know, boobies– Dr. Brennan!

Dr. Brennan. What a wonderful lecture. Fantastic. Sublime. Great.

Thank you, Dr. Wexler. Who knew such a shapeless robe could be so evocative.

Of academia I mean, of course.

Just one moment with my colleague, please, Agent Booth.

Um, over the last few days,

I have been warned many times to watch out for you. Warned?

That sounds dangerous. [ Cell Phone Ringing ]

Was it something along the lines of, oh,

“Look out for Ian Wexler. He's a young genius on the rise”?

How can you flirt with me while ignoring your phone? [ Ringing Continues ]

Well, I'm a man of perspective.

Besides, I find that if one ignores the thing long enough, generally it stops ringing.

And then later, at my leisure, it will tell me what it wanted.

Dr. Ian Wexler.

Don't leave. This is noth– Murder? What kind of murder?

Well, is it a boring one, or is it a violent one? Is your interest peaked?

What– Are you being serious?

I'm going to pass you over to a colleague of mine.

I'd simply like you to state the origin of this call. Thank you.

Scotland Yard? Homicide?

Cheers. Well, would you like to tag along?

It is murder. Can't promise anything,

but it is possible that a famous heiress is involved.

I'm keen as ketchup.

Mustard. Keen as mustard. Excellent effort at the colloquialism though.

Very impressive.

Does your cowboy want to tag along? Please don't call him that.

He'd find it insulting? No.

He'd love it.

[ Man ] A little higher, John!

[ Men Chattering ]

[ Siren Blares, Horn Honks ] Stand back, please.

[ Ian ] Inspector Cate Pritchard of Scotland Yard,

I'd like you to meet– Ah, Agent Booth.

- Yes. Yes. - Hello. I very much enjoyed your presentation last night.

He's very active– sound effects, visual aids, lots of props.

Although, he complained at great length about having to check his gun with us.

Well, you know, without a gun, I'm practically naked. Isn't that right, Bones?

- Inspector Pritchard, meet Dr. Brennan. - Charming.

She's exactly like me. Charming, tenacious, salacious, sophomoric,

euphoric, noble, ignoble,

fatuous, horrid, morbid, torpid and tedious?

Flattery will get you absolutely nowhere, Cate. [ Chuckles ]

So you found Portia Frampton?

The way we usually work is I drag the bodies out of the Thames...

and you use your extraordinary capabilities to identify them.

Bones, they're like the English version of me and you.

- Do you think it might be her? - This certainly is her car.

Portia Frampton. She's an American, as is her father. Do you know him?

Not all Americans know each other. There are quite a lot of them.

Roger Frampton– airlines, Internet ventures, luxury construction.

Full disclosure, Cate. I'm currently analyzing one of his construction sites.

Frampton wishes to build skyscrapers...

over what may prove to be a Bronze Age treasure trove or maybe just a rubbish tip.

- Well, they aren't mutually exclusive. - Exactly.

This vehicle's number plate matches Miss Frampton's.

Obviously, this vehicle entered the Thames at some distance upstream...

before coming to ground here.

What do you think, Dr. Brennan? Female or transvestite?

- Female. - Mm-hmm.

[ Brennan ] Late teens, early 20s.

Penetrating trauma to the parietal bone.

Someone hit her on the head with a sharp object.

You have to do that as well, do you– translate for him?

You have to deal with that too? Is it murder?

- [ Together ] Yes. - If this is Portia Frampton,

then her father will no doubt demand F.B.I. involvement.

[ Brennan ] Why? They're American.

You won't have any real jurisdiction, you understand?

Well, not beyond what I grant you out of courtesy.

Well, that whole “no jurisdiction” thing,

that really doesn't fly in the F.B.I.

- Just tell him he can have a gun. - But he can't.

Well, as they say in America, hasta la vista, baby.

Look, Agent Booth, I will– I will do my utmost to get you a gun.

In that case– excuse me–

Bones and I are the best crime-solving team in America.

Well, we're in England. Let's all just try and pull together, shall we?

One nice, little, happy transnational unit of inquiry.

Well, we should have these remains sent back to the Jeffersonian,

as well as any silt samples and parts of vehicle that may contain trace evidence.

Well, how do you feel about that, Dr. Wexler?

Oh, I'm looking forward to completely surrendering myself to Dr. Brennan.

You heard her. Back to the Jeffersonian, all of it. Put it in the overhead.

[ Angela Groans ] Brennan sent all this evidence from England?

Not just evidence, but actual human remains.

The Brits used dental records– no jokes, please–

- to identify the daughter of a wealthy ex-pat. - Typical American billionaire.

- Thinks we can do it better. - Because we can do it better.

- X-rays for you, Clark. - Thank you.

I'll take the body, see if there's any soft tissue worth looking at.

And these crime scene photos are mine. [ Hodgins ] Check it out.

British slime. So much more proper than American slime.

Some kind of paper. I'll see if there's anything on it.

Okay, as usual, I'll need constant progress reports.

Angela.

[ Mouths Words ] Oh, my God!

Grayson.

Angela.

That's the last bit of sugar you're ever gonna get from me. I want my divorce.

[ Chuckling ]

Portia Frampton, only daughter of Roger Frampton, 47–

formerly of Ringwood, New Jersey– and Sarah Frampton,

née Burroughs– deceased 1994– of Cheltenham, England.

You wouldn't believe what my hotel gave me for breakfast.

It was like this brown goo, and some kind of meat–

I think it was a sausage– about the size of my finger. I had an entire buffet.

[ Booth ] You're staying at the Duke of something, all right?

I'm at the Beefeater Hotel/Motel. [ Cate ] You ate at a Beefeater?

- That's brave. - [ Booth ] Brave is right.

- This is the weakest coffee I've ever had. - Booth, that's tea.

Okay, two weeks ago, Miss Frampton was last seen...

leaving her home the morning after her 21st birthday party.

It's quite a coincidence that Dr. Wexler is working for the victim's father.

Well, not working for him actually.

Working for the city. But I shall check my diary to see if I killed her.

Portia's party broke up around 2:00 a.m.,

and she was reported missing the following afternoon. [ Booth ] Hmm.

The question is, why? [ Ian ] She was probably reported missing...

- because nobody could find her. - Ian.

And I suspect the reason nobody could find her was because...

Portia was in a car on the bottom of the River Thames.

- Just a theory, mind. - It's a great theory.

Can you hold on to that for one second? Thanks.

Me and Dr. Brennan will go talk to the family.

- Together? - [ Together ] That's what we do.

Do you hear that, Inspector? That's extraordinary.

Sweet.

[ Clark ] Portia Frampton was struck from behind.

Trauma to the zygomatic suggests that she fell to the ground...

- and then was struck again at least two more times. - Weapon?

The Brits weren't able to recover all the skull fragments,

- so it's nearly impossible to tell. - Excuse me.

I'd like you to meet my husband.

My soon-to-be ex-husband.

- We must talk. - This is Birimbau?

I prefer my real name: Grayson Barasa.

Very nice to meet you all.

Listen, uh,

I realize that Grayson is very lovely.

- He certainly is. - Thank you.

- He's a big dude. - But until Grayson hands over signed divorce papers,

I don't really need Hodgins seeing everybody...

gawking at him like he's some kind of god.

Yeah, but he is some kind of god– the best kind.

Cam. A little help here?

Yeah. [ Mouths Word ]

[ Sweets ] Oh, my God.

Poor Hodgins. Wow.

[ Laughs ]

Look at that guy. He's just–

[ Laughing ] Look at him.

I'm sorry.

[ Angela ] Hodgins? Hey, Angie.

This is Grayson Barasa– Birimbau.

Please, tell me you are here to sign the divorce papers.

[ Chuckling ] I can't do that.

I'm still in love with Angela.

Of course you are. Uh–

[ Clears Throat ] I... understand.

But Angela is in love with me.

I told you, Grayson. Angela.

Do you remember the night we met?

Vaguely.

Ah, the waves were phosphorescent,

like the world was upside down and we were swimming naked through the Milky Way.

Bioluminescent phytoplankton. Nothing mystic.

We talked about how the universe speaks to us.

And when our lips met–

[ Clears Throat ] I apologize.

No worries. Our lips meet all the time.

Bells. [ Chuckles ]

What? No, Hodgins.

Literally, bells started ringing. It was nothing cosmic.

Every bell on the island rang out.

It was during the Shark Festival of Bells. What did you expect to happen?

- A 21-gun salute? - [ Chuckles ]

So-So-So what about the divorce papers?

You need time to talk.

[ Both Laughing ]

Yuck it up, laughing boy. Wait until one of your ex-girlfriends comes to visit.

Mmm. Yeah.

Back to work. Yeah.

[ Hodgins Laughs ]

[ Man ] One of the reasons we moved away from the States...

was to get away from the violence.

Now look what happened. Mr. Frampton, look. We're very sorry...

for the loss of your daughter. What was it?

- Was it a robbery? - We don't know yet.

- I'm gonna need a list of your enemies. - What enemies?

Well, you're a very aggressive American businessman living here in England.

- You must have enemies. - My daughter was a very sweet, innocent girl.

Not always, Mr. Frampton.

[ Roger ] What the hell are you asking for anyway?

So you can put that picture away, Dr, Brennan.

Miss Miller, how close were you with your stepdaughter?

Heather and I are not married yet.

Portia was like a younger sister to me.

- We talked about everything– clothes, school, Harry. - [ Booth ] Harry.

- Who's Harry? - Lord Henry Albert Bonham.

Right. Is that some kind of crusty old politician or something?

Lord Bonham is a very uncrusty young man– heir to the Duke of Innesford.

[ Booth ] Right. Harry Henry Bonham whatever.

I read the tabloids. There was no mention of Portia dating any kind of royalty.

The duke wanted it kept a secret.

The duke would be the lord's father.

I got it, Bones. I understand, okay? I'm just trying to help.

So the duke says something, and all of the sudden, magically it happens?

- [ Heather ] Welcome to England. - A murderer's a murderer...

no matter how close he is to the throne.

Please, help me find out who did this to my daughter.

[ Brennan ] Why did you rent this?

I didn't rent this, okay? They screwed up at the rent-a-car place.

I ordered an Aston. You know, James Bond. But they gave me–

Yeah, they gave you an Austin. It could happen to anyone. Um–

We drive on the left here, as you may recall. [ Horns Honking ]

Driving here requires a different skill set.

- I can take the wheel. I'm an excellent driver. - [ Booth ] Thank you, Rain Man.

No, I'm fine. I'll tell you what.

Back home, we'd drag the whole royal family in to interrogation separately.

Let ‘em stew, catch ‘em in a lie.

We could do that, if you like, but it'll give them time to close up.

- Do stay to the left here, please. - [ Horns Honking ]

- Close up? - Tighten ranks.

Nothing is as impenetrable as the aristocracy freezing out hoi polloi interlopers.

I must say, I'm rather looking forward to two Americans bearding the lion in his den.

[ Cate ] The light is red. [ Booth ] That's okay. I'm turning right.

Turning right on a red here is the equivalent of turning left...

into the wrong lane on a red at home. That makes no sense to me.

The point is, it's against the law to turn on a red–

- Brake! Brake! - [ Screaming ]

- Brake! - [ Tires Screeching ] - [ Horns Honking ]

- Brake! - [ Screams ]

[ Horns Honking ] [ Man ] Get out of the way, you wanker!

Okay, I think we should wait here until the traffic thins out.

God! I hate London!

I hate England! I'm glad we had a revolution!

[ Shouting ] Bollocks! [ Cell Phone Ringing ]

[ Shouting Continues ] Brennan.

[ Booth, Shouting ] And the weather here! It's cloudy–

The fatty acid composition of the victim's cervical fluid caught my attention,

so I ran some more tests.

Turns out Portia Frampton was pregnant.

- Pregnant? How far along? - [ Booth ] And coffee!

What is so hard about making a cup...

of black coffee!

About two months.

Thanks, Cam. [ Pounds On Roof ]

[ Sighs ]

[ Exhales ] Okay, I feel much better. What'd I miss?

Lord Henry Bonham, heir to the Duke of Innesford, knocked up the victim.

Right. The royals hate bastards.

- Only the ones that don't make king. - Hang on, girls.

We're getting out of this toilet swirl.

[ Horn Honking ]

[ Booth ] Oh! Nice castle.

[ Brennan ] No. Castles were originally designed for military purposes– to withstand attack.

This is more properly called a palace.

Bones. A little help getting out, Bones.

Geez!

God! Geez! Heads up.

Gettin' out of this thing is like being born. [ Sighs ]

Oh. Is that the duke? It's his gentleman's gentleman.

It's a butler.

How ya doin' there, sport? Right. F.B.I.

You might as well put this one away. It's worthless.

And yet, here I am. You mind waiting outside? Why?

[ Cate ] It's because Agent Booth not only wants the aristocrats off-balance.

He wants them upside down. He'll annoy them, you mean?

Let's say the duke and duchess won't be used to your approach.

Listen. Word of advice.

When they start commenting on you to each other, you've got them on the run.

Right.

I noticed in the crime scene photos that the back seats of the S.U.V. were folded down,

which started me thinking that maybe the victim...

was transporting something, you know, worth stealing.

So Brennan had strips of material sent from the vehicle, which I analyzed.

ST-90 transmission oil. It's made with polyalphaolefin.

Leaded, acidic H2O residue, and plenty of polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons.

- Don't make her ask. - Thank you, Angela.

A motorcycle was transported in the back of the S.U.V.

More likely a scooter, given the size.

The killer kills, loads the body and his scooter–

Or moped. Drives to the Thames.

Dumps the car, body and all, in the river, and rides his scooter home.

Through the teeming streets of London.

So you're an honest-to-God real butler?

My family has served His Grace's family for eight generations.

Yeah, well, a real butler would offer to take my hat.

A real gentleman would be wearing a hat. Whoa!

Look at this guy! Uh, yes, sir.

It dates to– Please don't touch that, Agent Booth.

Late 1490s or early 1500s. German design?

His Grace's ancestors fought for Henry VIII in France.

[ Scoffs ] Geez! Look at the size of this. That's one large cup.

Probably to scare the sissy French.

Actually, Henry VIII started the trend of large codpieces because he had syphilis,

so his penis was extremely sensitive to anything touching it.

His Grace favors the “intimidate the enemy” version, should the topic arise.

His Grace, Her Ladyship and Lord Henry will meet you in the morning room.

Two weeks, and I'd heard nothing from Portia.

I knew it would turn out to be something terrible.

You kept your relationship with Portia Frampton a secret.

It didn't mean I didn't love her.

Where we come from, that's exactly what it means.

You're quite certain this American has the right to pose these questions?

[ Booth ] Tell you what. You call Scotland Yard,

and the answer is always gonna be yes.

So, Portia ever come to visit this, uh, palace?

This house? No. Why?

You were in love with her, right, Lord?

Well, it's my understanding that the class system in England,

though very much relaxed since the Second World War,

still exists at the highest levels of society.

- That's you, right? - One prefers not to make such an assertion.

How long did you and Portia Frampton carry on a sexual relationship?

Did I ever say I was sleeping with her?

Of course you had sex with her, Harry.

And I'm sure she rather enjoyed it.

You're a well-formed, athletic boy.

Did you offer refreshments?

I had no intention of encouraging them to stay longer, Mother.

Tea, please.

Harry kept his relationship with the Frampton girl secret...

because her father is a rapacious crook...

who uses intimidation and bribery to get what he wants.

So it had nothing to do with this?

They've brought that wretched rag into the house. I was there.

It was the afternoon before Portia's birthday party.

- So you saw the photographer? - Of course not. I'd have thrashed him.

The lord was gonna go all medieval.

Portia's party was lovely. She left before I awoke the next morning.

It's the last time I saw her.

- But you did hear from her. - [ Booth ] Right, because...

cell phone records indicate that you talked that morning.

It was a very personal conversation.

Did you discuss her pregnancy?

I got it. I'll tell you what. There was an argument.

Portia wanted to keep the baby. You didn't. I assure you,

I had absolutely no idea that–

Could he possibly be suggesting that pregnancy is a motive for murder?

Nonsense. Arrangements would have been made.

And you're positive that you're the father?

Harry. Look at that.

I'm being intimidated by royalty.

If you must know, Portia broke up with me.

She said there was to be no discussion.

[ Booth ] Ah. There you go. Motive for murder...

no matter what country we're in.

[ Sips Loudly ] Mmm!

What is this? It's Assam black tea.

Very strong. Call it the upper-class version...

of a “cup o' joe.” Wow!

Cheers.

[ Angela On Speaker ] I've been looking at those tabloid photos of the victim.

Now, in a telephoto shot, most of the frame is blurry.

Only the main subject is in focus.

What is this place on the weekends? A dungeon?

You see here? These pixels look like they've been altered to appear fuzzy.

So it wasn't really a telephoto lens?

You light it with torches, right? No, it was a telephoto lens.

But it's been doctored to look as though it's over 500 millimeters,

when I put it at more like 80.

[ Cate ] Why would anyone do that?

- See that white sliver? - Do you mean the white blob?

It's a reflection of light,

almost as though the photographer was behind glass.

And in Portia's eyes– Do you see that?

[ All ] No.

It's a reflection of a house.

Do you see where I'm going?

[ All ] No.

- Someone took the picture inside the house. - With an 80-millimeter lens.

Sweetie, my ex-husband is here with the divorce papers.

So I'll fill you in when you get back.

Lovely mix of personal and professional you people seem to manage.

Harry could have taken the photograph.

Yes, that's certainly a possibility.

But Harry had no motive to take the photo.

We're most likely searching for a disgruntled servant who was looking to cash in.

Mmm.

I apologize for eating without you,

but apparently to hold the table, you have to order.

I'm not here for food. I'm here to get you to sign the divorce papers.

Hmm.

In my place, would you do that?

I'm not in your place.

I've been searching for Angela for five years.

I know. I know. Our private investigator told us everything.

You built Angela a home with your bare hands...

while simultaneously smuggling medicine to children in Cuba...

and supporting an orphanage.

You're a saint. I get it. If you believe that to be true,

then you should want what is best for Angela.

I do. And guess what? It's me.

Why are you better than me?

Obviously, I'm not.

But I do love her more than you. You cannot possibly know that.

And yet, I do.

We are at an impasse.

You have no sense of dignity.

Yeah, I'd give up my life for Angela. So what's a little dignity?

She kissed me, you know. On the cheek, or–

What's going on? Oh, man.

He says you kissed him.

I did. Whoa!

It was a good-bye kiss. There's nothing you can do.

- You must accept– - Hodgins!

Here. Can– Can you take this, please? Oh!

Whoa!

Nice, Grayson!

Angela.

[ Brennan ] We've been working on identifying the photographer...

who took the tabloid picture of Portia.

Surely, identifying her murderer is more important.

You see, paparazzi, they follow people.

So maybe he saw something. I don't know, maybe the actual killer.

The photo was taken from a bedroom in Portia's home.

So you're suggesting the help let a paparazzo into the house?

Actually, the help told Inspector Pritchard that you were in the room.

Look, maybe you wanna tell us why you did it before Roger gets here.

Roger and I have set five wedding dates over the years.

And each time, Portia found a way to make him postpone.

- She had her father wrapped around her little finger. - So you killed her?

Don't be ridiculous! I merely wanted Roger to regard Portia...

as a sexually mature adult with her own agenda instead of as an innocent child.

Sorry I'm late. Court went rather longer than expected.

Heather, I trust you've said nothing. Too late.

[ Roger ] Too late why? Your girlfriend...

sent the naked picture of your daughter to the tabloids...

so you'd stop thinking that she was perfect and finally get married.

What Americans lack in subtlety, they make up with clarity.

Roger, I'm so sorry.

Why the hell would you do that?

Please, believe me, I would never do anything to harm Portia.

I simply made a terrible mistake.

Roger! Oh, Roger!

I trust this interview is over?

Actually, I just have one more question. Who the hell would wanna wear this?

It's so nice to see you relaxing, enjoying some good British beer, Agent Booth.

Cheers. Cheers.

I'll tell you what. I'd like to see that open.

Really?

Why? Luck.

You'd have to be ridiculously lucky to see something like that, wouldn't you?

That's my point. [ Chuckles ]

Well, you did get a little lucky today.

Yeah?

That's a Walther PPK. It's a James Bond gun.

Booth. Seeley Booth.

No. That's terrible.

Thanks, Pritch.

But please just remember, though...

that if you do use it, I'm the one they'll hang.

Hey, I'm a good shot.

[ Cell Phone Ringing ] Oh.

Oh. It's the American squints.

You'll love these people. Booth. Seeley Booth.

[ Angela On Speakerphone ] Hey, uh, the paper you sent me–

it turns out to be a letter to Portia Frampton from her mother.

A keepsake from her childhood perhaps?

It's dated this year. [ Booth ] What does the letter say?

The entire body of the letter is indecipherable.

The date and the salutation and the signature are clear though.

Thanks, Ange.

So Portia Frampton's mother is still alive?

That raises a whole set of questions.

[ Clark On Speaker ] Visible on the L2 is an area of radiolucency.

Can't see a damned thing. [ Brennan ] Give us a moment, Clark.

We found a few more bone fragments today, Dr. Wexler. Good. How old?

No more than a hundred years.

To prevent Frampton from building his beloved skyscrapers on this site,

we need to find something from the Bronze Age or older.

There is evidence of reabsorption of the surrounding bone.

Ah, here. Yes, I see. Very interesting.

Cyril, you're being impertinent. Please stop speaking.

- Could the anomaly be a hemangioblastoma? - Okay, off you go.

And don't come back until you find at least one Bronze Age, ossified funny bone.

Have Cam do a histology, Clark.

Will do, Dr. Brennan.

[ Clears Throat ] So, what now? Well,

I thought quick drink, back to yours for some sex and then out for a late supper.

Oh– [ Chuckles ]

[ Chuckles ] I'm inclined to accept.

Well, I'm ever so pleased. But Booth says I shouldn't trust you.

And why is that? Well, he says you like to rack 'em up.

Rack 'em up? How vulgar.

Booth is very good at reading people. Hmm.

Well, in that case, how about we start with the supper...

and then let the chips fall where they may?

That would be an acceptable compromise.

[ Hodgins ] I checked out the skull fragments for microscopic traces.

How shiny and pretty. What is it? Mother-of-pearl.

Have you talked to Angela today?

Yes. Are you saying our victim was attacked by an abalone?

How mad is she? Mad, mad, mad.

I thought women secretly liked it when we fought over them.

“Women” is an unacceptable generalization.

[ Brennan ] You should look over your other shoulder.

Bones, I've been driving since I was 12, okay?

Would it make you less agitated if I told you I didn't sleep with Dr. Wexler last night?

I'm not agitated, okay? I'm agitated because of driving this little car. That's all.

Look, Wexler is just– [ Sighs ]

I'm not agitated because of you and Dr. Wexler.

Wexler's just another guy looking for a one-night stand. That's– Whoa!

So? So? You gotta take it seriously.

Seriously? You mean you've never laughed during sex? Because I do.

Whoa! Do you see that lorry? I see that lorry.

It's a truck. We're American, and that is a truck. [ Horns Honking ]

[ Man ] Bugger off! I laugh during sex. It's–

It's not that kind of serious.

Well, I think Dr. Wexler is serious about having sex with me.

[ Sighs ] Okay, news bulletin for you. Very interested.

Bones, there's not a guy in this country who wouldn't wanna have sex with you.

You'd probably have gay men– Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy. [ Horn Honking ]

[ Loud Thud ] Are you being nice about me or awful about British men?

Wexler is not special. You are.

[ Cell Phone Rings, Beeps ] Brennan.

Am I interrupting anything?

Uh, I'm just helping Booth drive.

Booth shouldn't be behind the wheel. He isn't adaptable.

[ Booth ] I'm Mr. Adaptable, okay? The mirror is the size of a thumbnail.

Well, what do you expect when you rent a car the size of your thumb?

I don't think there's enough fetal tissue to get a D.N.A. reading, but–

Cam, could we just be quiet until I get into the flow of traffic here?

[ Horn Honking ] [ Man ] Get out of the way, you wanker!

You think I'm special? [ Sighs ]

Of course I think that you're special. Yes!

[ Brennan ] Thank you. I will take your romantic advice under advisement.

Now you're too far to the left. Oh–

- You're gonna hit the curb! - [ Loud Thud ] - We're good.

Yeah, unless we get a flat tire.

No, we're good. [ Saroyan ] If I could speak again?

I had better luck with the tumor.

Our victim suffered from Von Hippel-Lindau disease.

[ Loud Pop, Hissing ]

- We got a flat tire. - How'd that happen?

But there wasn't any evidence of V.H.L....

in either the mother's medical records or the autopsy report.

But it's hereditary, so her father must have it.

Roger Frampton worked for the NHL?

He– He may have V.H.L. disease.

What if he doesn't have it?

Then Roger Frampton is not Portia Frampton's biological father.

Oh, God. [ Horn Honking: Sustained ]

Great. That's just great! I hate this car!

[ Roger ] My wife is not alive.

Your daughter was carrying a letter from her mother when she died.

It was dated Portia's 21st birthday.

That's impossible. Tell your lab boys they got it wrong.

Roger, the lab is, in fact, correct.

Portia was indeed carrying a letter from Sarah dated her 21st birthday.

Portia and I met at a café in Knightsbridge the day after her party.

I gave her the letter personally. [ Cate ] I think you'll find...

Sarah knew she was dying and entrusted Mr. Curry with letters...

which he delivered on Portia's important birthdays.

- How do you know? - It's exactly what I'd have done...

if I were dying and leaving behind a young daughter.

It's all very touching, but it still makes wig-wearing Willy here...

the last person who saw Portia alive. [ Curry ] For God's sake.

- Now I'm a suspect? - You should've told me, William.

You're not the only person who engages me for my discretion, Roger.

- What did the letter say? - I'm sure I couldn't possibly tell you.

Uh, Mr. Frampton, how is your health?

What the hell does that got to do with anything?

Any nerve pain? Dizziness? Headaches?

No. I'm healthy as an ox.

Are you aware that Portia is not your biological daughter?

Perhaps I should conduct the rest of this interview.

[ Sweets ] Angela–

Here we go.

Angela, men are idiots. Seriously.

Just to be clear, are you a man or a boy...

for the purposes of this conversation? [ Chuckles ]

When I was 10, the kid next door had a Turtle Party Wagon.

It's an accessory for the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figures.

Mmm.

It's a toy? No?

Anyway, I loved that Party Wagon.

I wanted that Party Wagon.

So I climbed the tree outside his bedroom window. But the tree had a fungus.

And his dad was too cheap to hire an arborist,

so, unbeknownst to me, some of the branches were dead.

Lucky for you I, uh– I enjoy a convoluted story with my hot beverage.

I'm in the hospital– broken arm, concussion–

and the kid with the Party Wagon comes in.

I confess everything. You know what he says?

“I would have given it to you.”

Ah. He had a little gay crush on you.

He did? Mm-hmm.

Oh, man, that explains a lot.

But I'm guessing that you have a different point to the story,

like maybe I'm the Party Wagon.

No. You're the gay neighbor boy.

Your love is the Party Wagon. Grayson is the tree. I'm Hodgins. Think about it.

Which brings us back to the point that all men are idiots.

See how I worked that?

It's because I'm so good.

Uh, uh-huh.

The treads in the victim's tires were mostly full of river silt.

But I did find a few more materials.

Crushed Scleractinian coral.

Possibly from Australia. She was killed in Australia?

No, it's used as a surface for private roadways in England.

How does that help us? Well, it's been illegal to harvest this stuff for years.

So the roadway in question is fairly old.

And even when this stuff was available,

it was incredibly expensive. And the organic material?

Yeah.

Deciduous pinnate leaflets– medium pink petals.

It's a Rosa damascena. An antique rose bush.

Hey, Hodgins?

Yeah, hey. Hi, Angela.

Fine, I'll just pass this along to Booth and Dr. Brennan in England.

You guys go ahead and–

Security cameras, people.

The building's filled with security cameras.

I can't have you punching my ex-husbands.

Deal, so long as you don't kiss your ex-husbands...

for longer than three seconds on the lips.

Deal. Look.

It's simple. My heart isn't yours to claim.

It's mine to give away. I get that.

I mean, what you're saying, not your heart.

Oh, idiot. You do get my heart.

Because you're giving it to me.

At last, a glimmer of understanding.

Wow. That is so... flaky and new age... Yeah.

and wonderful.

- [ Bells Ringing ] - [ Laughter, Shouting ]

- [ Laughs ] - [ Whooping ]

Okay, okay. I get it.

The universe speaks. I hear it.

The guy said he was gonna fix the flat tire.

What's it doing up on the truck? Crushed coral and rose petals?

Hodgins found coral and roses in Portia Frampton's tires.

Who takes a car with a flat tire and puts it up on a truck?

You fix it. That's what you do. If there was a spare tire, I'd have fixed it.

Probably you cracked an axle or something. Thanks, Cam. That was very useful.

All right, great. Now I gotta call Agent Pritchard.

I'm gonna have to ask her for a ride.

England is not good for my personal dignity. [ Sniffing ]

All because of a... flat tire. Wait. Whoa!

- Don't smell that. You don't know where that's been. - Yes, I do.

This is crushed coral, and it smells like roses.

[ Sniffs ] Where did we pick up crushed coral?

The private road and driveway at the Bonham estate.

Portia Frampton drove to the Bonham estate just before she died.

And the royals said she never came to the house.

They lied.

You honestly believe the Duke of Innesford...

is Portia Frampton's biological father?

Both he and his mother show symptoms of V.H.L. disease.

Well, we're standing on coral, those are rose bushes,

and that is a scooter that could fit very nicely into the back of an S.U.V.

That's great. Okay. What's taking our backup so long?

I didn't request backup. [ Booth ] Well, great.

In that case– [ Sighs ]

I want a gun. I'm a very good shot, and I've killed before.

- It didn't bother me as much as I thought. - It bothered you a little.

Yes, but not as much as I thought.

If there's gonna be gunplay, I'll wait in the car. [ Cate ] Nonsense.

There won't be any gunplay. [ Booth ] Why not?

We won't need guns because we have the letter from Portia's mother.

- We don't know what it says. - Ah. But they don't know that.

- Good one, Pritch. - What did you just call her?

Pritch, Ian. He called me Pritch. Short for Pritchard.

Will you please put that weapon away?

Fine. It just feels wrong.

I have a letter addressed to Portia from her mother.

- Portia's mother died 14 years ago. - She wrote it on her deathbed.

On her deathbed? Well, you know what this means.

- Big doings. - Big doings!

So I'm gonna have Dr. Brennan...

read it out loud. What?

[ Brennan ] My dearest daughter, Portia–

Did we mention it's dated Portia Frampton's 21st birthday?

Start at the beginning, Bones.

My dearest daughter, Portia– Skip to the part about her father.

Wait a moment, please.

- Would you leave us, Harry? - Why?

What's happening, Gerard? Please trust me.

This is not the way for Harry to discover certain harsh truths.

Please, Harry. A little trust.

That must be one hell of a letter.

You must believe me when I tell you I had no idea of this before Portia read the letter to me.

You met with Portia here?

What did it say?

It says that the duke was Portia's biological father.

How remarkably unsavory.

You couldn't possibly think that Gerard killed Portia to keep it a secret?

Why not?

[ Gerard ] Portia asked me if I were her father.

I admitted that it was more than possible.

Mother-of-pearl. This is very possibly the murder weapon.

Isn't this the part where we call for legal counsel?

I did not kill Portia Frampton, Mother. Thank you for your faith.

I believe I'm going to have to request you to accompany me to Scotland Yard, Your Grace.

- They request? - It's a polite country.

[ Clearing Throat ] That will not be necessary.

- It was I. - Jamison?

- [ Booth ] The butler? - You ordered your butler to kill Portia Frampton?

The duke had absolutely nothing to do with it.

[ Grandmother ] If Jamison confesses,

Harry need never know that Portia was his sister.

- We'll provide you with the finest representation. - Thank you, ma'am.

Wow.

Come on. You mean to tell me that neither one of you get the weirdness of this?

All right, the butler did it. It was the butler.

Inspector Pritchard will be hours in the interrogation room with him.

But the fact is we'll never really know for certain.

You mean he might just be protecting the duke?

It's utterly conceivable, yes.

Well, I thought I might try and entice you back to Oxford with me tonight.

You know, I do have a gun in England,

and I really have been dying to use it.

I'll handle this.

You know, it's a James Bond gun.

It's a Walther PPK, by the way.

Ian, I think you're a lot of fun.

Oh, hell's bells in buckets. I think I know where this is going.

It would upset Booth if I slept with you.

You see, rationally speaking, if you were to have someone operate on your brain,

you would want a surgeon who's done the procedure many hundreds of times.

You know, someone who's absolutely at the top of their game.

I don't really see why sex should be any different.

Rationally speaking, you're absolutely right. Good.

Then we're settled. Off we go.

Look out for the bridge opening. They say it's good luck.

That should keep him occupied for hours.

Common sense says you don't offend your partner...

for an hour of fun. An hour?

What? One hour? You underestimate me, Dr. Brennan.

Oh, this is absolutely the dregs, isn't it?

I'll call you again before you leave.

Who knows? You could be in a more rational frame of mind.

[ Man ] ♪ What is there missing from me ♪

♪ That I see in you ♪

♪ What can I say ♪

♪ What can I do ♪

Why are you looking at me like that? I'm just here to help you pick out a guy, you know?

[ Bridge Bell Ringing: Faint ]

Never mind. I'm just here...

to bring a little luck. I don't believe in luck.

What do you mean, you don't believe in luck? Okay, well,

how do you explain when good things happen out of nowhere?

Define “good things.”

You know, good things. Money in the bank. [ Ringing Continues ]

Doris Day parking. What's Doris Day parking?

A big piece of the pie. That's good luck.

I call that a solipsistic perceptual response to the random nature of the universe.

Tomato, potato– Call it what you want. You know what? It's still luck.

You are lucky I understand you when you say things that make no sense.

See? You just agreed with me that it was luck.

You just agreed right there, so I'll take that. I did not agree–

You agreed that is was luck. So, cheers to that.

We're gonna stay in England. We agreed.

♪ ...stay on the ground ♪♪ [ Clink ]

What's that mean?