Original subtitles

♪ ♪

(sizzling)

(man whispers indistinctly)

♪ ♪

(blipping)

CROUPIER: Okay, folks.

Ball is on the wheel.

This is the last call for betting.

(indistinct chatter)

CROUPIER: We have a winner!

BRASS: Are you getting this?

Huh?

Blue plaid shirt, past posting

chocolate chips at table R49?

We gotta shut him down.

CROUPIER: Round and round she goes,

where she stops, nobody knows.

(wheel clicking, blipping)

Sir, can I help you?

Sorry, yes.

You can help me.

You have change for a penny?

(gasps)

(explosion thunders)

(people screaming, clamoring)

This is Federal, sir.

It's a bomb.

I know it's not my jurisdiction, but it is my casino.

I'm on the next plane.

(reporter speaking indistinctly)

(sirens wailing, horns blaring)

SIDLE: Hey.

Oh, great.

All right, all hands on deck on this one.

Blast circumference roughly 18 by 12.

We got three dead and several dozen injured.

So, let's-let's get on it.

All right, I'll look for bomb parts.

I'll shoot the overalls.

Henry and I will document the detonation blast area.

I'll measure, you photo.

So, uh, I know

you're applying for the directorship.

Oh.

Stage doesn't get any bigger than this, Sara.

You want this case?

Good.

It's yours.

I know this is gonna sound insensitive,

but don't you think a bomber wearing a vest

would've taken out way more people than this?

Yeah.

So, what, faulty bomb?

You put a vest on like that in a public place,

I gotta think that you're planning on taking

as many people with you as possible.

Yeah.

So, what do you think?

First blush.

Terrorism.

Why do you say that?

Vegas is terrified.

OFFICER (whispering): Let's go to the bow.

Sir?

Harbor Patrol.

I'm Officer Scinta.

These men are from San Diego PD.

I have orders to remove all trespassers.

Please show me your hands.

I'm gonna give you about two seconds to turn around,

or I'm gonna consider you a threat

and shoot you right here on this boat.

(sighs)

Shark fins.

Looks like somebody jumped a shark.

(siren wailing, horn blaring)

(siren approaches)

Well, you got here fast.

WILLOWS: FBI has its perks.

How many dead?

Three. A lot are injured.

We don't have a count.

Anyway, she's one of ours.

Her name is Romina Gonzalez.

I saw the surveillance video.

You want to talk to her now.

She was the last person to speak to the bomber

before he self-detonated.

Romina, hang in there, honey.

WILLOWS: Mrs. Gonzalez,

I'm Catherine Willows, Special Agent with the FBI.

(groans in pain)

I wasn't even supposed to work today.

I just needed the money.

I just need to ask...

can you recall your conversation you had

with the bomber?

Ah, yeah.

Those are my babies. Oh, cute.

Cubano cigars...

50 bucks a stick, right?

Could you come with me to the cage?

I just need to cash in a few chips first.

Sure.

So, he was listening to someone

on the other end of an earpiece?

FIREMAN: All right, check the fentanyl?

(gasps, groans) FIREMAN 2: Yeah.

FIREMAN: Tourniquet still in place? FIREMAN 2: It is.

My daughters' names...

are Helena and Maria.

All right.

FIREMAN 2: B.P.'s dropping.

(flat line tone sounding)

FIREMAN 2: Doctor, we need some help over here.

Romina?

Ma'am, please step back.

Start compressions.

Go ahead to the hospital, prepare for arrival.

DOCTOR: Let's start a line.

FBI Special Agent Willows.

I've been authorized by the L.A. Bureau

to take over this bomb site.

Sara!

Catherine, hey.

I am so sorry. Hey.

What a mess.

Just got in from L.A. I saw the footage on the news.

How can I help?

Well, I'm not exactly sure.

It's a conflict of interest.

Legally, I'm the owner of the Eclipse.

This building and everything in it is my responsibility.

Of course, yes. Yes, it is.

But... you and I both know you can't be in here.

Three of my employees are dead.

What am I supposed to do?

Wait in the hospitality suite?

Look, Sara...

I'm not here to cause trouble,

but I'm also not here to sit on the sidelines.

And as long as there are bodies

on the floor of my father's casino,

I need to continue to work this case.

Okay?

Okay.

I ran your name.

Says you used to run the Las Vegas Crime Lab.

Long time ago. Do you mind telling me

why you're unlawfully on this vessel?

Well, see, that's my boat over there.

The poacher who owns this boat has violated

Fish and Game Code 8599, which states:

"It is unlawful to slice the dorsal fin

"off a Carcharodon Carcharias

unless you bring the whole carcass ashore."

But white sharks can only be taken

for scientific or educational purposes under permit.

This boat has no permit.

My job is to confiscate the evidence,

document it and prepare it

for international and/or domestic court.

I had to ask.

So, now you're what, a CSI at sea?

Kind of.

Shark fin soup is bad.

It's worth getting arrested for.

(Willows scoffs)

Bastard lied about needing to get money from the cage.

He lured Romina over after he found out she had children.

BRASS: Pretty cruel.

Whew.

I'm good here.

Just release everything back to Sara.

As far as this piece of work...

just grab his photo and run it through NCIC, BICTOF,

local DMV... I want a name.

Would you have assumed this if I was a nun

or a Hasidic Jew?

They also cover themselves based on religious belief.

Considering what your husband did, Mrs. Karmimi, I would.

Hijab or no hijab,

terrorism is not a stretch

if you're on my side of the law.

My husband converted to Islam

because we fell in love, Mrs. Sidle.

I came to America

so that I could live free as a woman.

Here, women have a chance to live and to love

without being stoned to death.

To you, he's a criminal.

But to me, he was a husband.

He was my salvation.

Sorry.

Um, I-I didn't mean to offend you.

I'm sorry for your loss.

That does not forgive what he did to those people.

I know.

Mrs. Karmimi, help me.

If not terrorism...

then why would your husband

strap a bomb to his body and do that?

I don't know.

My husband is not a terrorist.

If anything, he had a gambling problem.

I took him to our Imam to speak to him at the moue.

I even took him to therapy.

Therapy for his addiction?

Yes.

He was doing well for a while.

But then, the therapist of his,

she unexpectedly quit her practice.

And then he just spiraled.

What the hell is that?

Hey, you garbage men find anything gold and square,

about yea big?

Something gold and metal flew out of the bomber's vest.

Chest-high, right side?

Yeah.

Why? Uh...

I noticed this hand-stitched lining

on the inside of the bomber's vest,

almost like a homemade pocket.

Gold metal piece.

I found it earlier, but I wasn't sure what it was.

This flew out of the bomber's right breast pocket,

but this vest doesn't even have inside pockets.

Looks like this gold God-knows-what

was purposely sewn into the vest.

Good catch.

Now, there's some kind of etching on it.

Maybe I can lift it.

♪ ♪ (whirring, grinding)

♪ ♪

Forgive me, but who is Lady Heather?

Uh, she's a sex therapist Grissom had a thing with

back in the day-day.

Not, like, a sexual one,

more like... an intellectual one.

Anyway, he worked a couple cases with her.

And against her.

So what do we think?

That she could be involved in this somehow?

We don't know, but we'd like to find out

why this piece of metal with Lady Heather's initials on it

flew from the bomber's jacket.

ECKLIE: Sara.

Wait.

This is gonna sound like an odd request,

but do you know where Grissom is?

Grissom? Yeah.

Uh, let me see, grab a globe,

spin it, look for the blue, and pick an ocean.

He could be anywhere.

Why? We think Lady Heather

might have something to do with the bombing.

Lady Heather?

Well, even if she did,

what does that have to do with my ex-husband?

Lady Heather is in the wind, all right?

We're getting a warrant for her house, as we speak.

Come on, if anybody knows this woman inside and out,

it's Grissom; I figured he could provide some deeper insight.

Conrad, with all due respect,

this entire building is working the bombing case.

Greg and I have history with Lady Heather.

We-we got it covered.

I know, Sara, but this bombing is international news now.

I'd feel better if we exhaust all resources.

Do you at least have his cell?

(scoffs, chuckles)

(cell phone rings)

(phone ringing, buzzing)

GRISSOM: Well, if that's the case, Conrad,

then I need to come up there.

But you're gonna have to get me out of this first.

Hello.

Let him go?

Are you sure about this, Sheriff?

Okay.

I'll arrange transport

and relinquish him into your custody.

(sighs heavily)

It's your lucky day, pal.

I'd tell you not to leave town,

but I guess you're going to Sin City.

Vegas.

♪ CSI 16x01 ♪ Immortality Parts I and II Original Air Date on September 27, 2015

♪ Who... are you? ♪

♪ Who, who, who, who? ♪

♪ Who... are you? ♪

♪ Who, who, who, who? ♪

♪ I really wanna know ♪

♪ Who... are you? ♪

♪ Oh-oh-oh ♪ ♪ Who... ♪

♪ Come on, tell me who are you, you, you ♪

♪ Are you! ♪

♪ ♪

(indistinct announcement over P.A.)

Mr. Grissom?

Oh, my God.

Hi. Welcome back.

It's been a long time since I saw you last.

Oh, but, hey, check it out... CSI Level One.

I did it. (chuckles)

You know what the crazy thing is?

(whispering): It's my first day.

Do you want to take my blood

or offer me a chocolate-covered grasshopper?

Oh, but, uh, anyway, I gotta run.

It was great to see you, as always.

See ya.

Sara.

Gil.

I'm back. (chuckles)

I see that.

ECKLIE: Grissom.

Hey.

Thanks for coming.

Uh, let's step in D.B.'s office. Sara.

(whispers): Who's D.B.?

D.B., Grissom.

Hi. I'm-I'm Diebenkorn Russell.

Pleasure to finally meet you, Gil.

My brains used to sit on that shelf.

Yeah, I, uh, traded brains for mushrooms.

Hope you don't mind.

ECKLIE: Gil, we could really use some insight

on Lady Heather.

The most pressing issue is this.

At the blast site, we found a piece of gold metal

with the letters LHK inscribed on it.

It flew out of the bomber's suicide vest.

Well, that's her logo, but I don't know what this is.

ECKLIE: When was the last time you spoke with her?

A few days ago, by phone.

Guess your cell service is better than it used to be.

Who wants to catch me up?

Gil! GRISSOM: Hey.

I heard you were coming by.

RUSSELL: Catherine...

because your name is on the deed to the Eclipse,

it might be cleaner if you work other avenues for us, okay?

Sure.

I'll work up a chronological timeline

and psychological profile on Lady Heather.

Good luck with that.

ECKLIE: Sara, your warrant came in.

Lady Heather's house is all yours.

Perfect.

Grissom and I'll check it out.

Wow, 30 minutes in the car, no words.

If you were playing that silent car game, you definitely win.

I thought we were talking.

All right, uh, listen, you know, before we go in there

and deal with Lady Heather, I-I just want to acknowledge

that you and I haven't spoken much since the divorce,

or before it, for that matter.

We both went our separate ways.

You're doing your Jacques Cousteau thing,

I'm in the field.

Things end, I-I get it.

But-but you and I are professionals,

and as professionals,

I think it's in the best interests of the case

if we put on a unified front.

You know, work as a team.

So, uh, let's put on our game faces

and-and keep it professional.

See? Mine's on.

You ready to go in?

Seeing you again left me a little speechless.

Come on.

Dr. Kessler?

Las Vegas Crime Lab.

WILLOWS: From 2000 to 2006,

Lady Heather ran a role-playing Red Room out of her home.

Whips, chains, pig masks, the whole ball of sex wax.

SANDERS: In 2006, she shut down the Red Room

after her daughter Zoe was murdered.

Overnight, her Red Room clients became therapy patients

where she started her own psychiatry practice.

And three months ago,

she abruptly shut down her practice.

Why?

Well, here's a thought:

This year, Lady Heather's granddaughter Alison,

daughter of Zoe,

was hit by a car while walking to school.

She died three months ago,

right around the time she quit her practice.

SANDERS: You think the two incidents are related?

I don't know yet.

(sighs)

Lady Heather told me something

a long time ago, that I never forgot.

She told me that there are many things

that you can give a man...

your body, your time,

even your heart...

but that one thing that you could never, ever,

ever let go of is your power.

I think that she lost everything that mattered to her...

her daughter and her granddaughter?

I mean, it's painful enough to lose one child, but two?

I mean, what else does she have to live for

but to wield her power of revenge?

Not to mention, we're dealing with

a master of the human mind.

Yeah.

If anybody can convince someone

to blow themselves up, it's her.

Hmm...

What?

Do you got something?

Just put my pole in the water

and I got a hit.

What is that?

Sorry, I wish I had better news.

Especially given all the blood

you guys found in Lady Heather's house.

None of these blood samples belong to Lady Heather.

Not one. Amelogenin is XY.

Donor's male.

DNA from the carpet doesn't even match the bomber.

So there's another male out there.

Along with Lady Heather.

WILLOWS: Robbins found the other half of the gold metal piece

inside one of the female victims.

Looks like a key of some sort.

Not just any key.

This is a key

to Heather's Red Room.

Where's that?

The dungeon.

♪ ♪

(door creaking open)

♪ ♪

Oh, Heather, what have you done now?

Am I interrupting anything?

Only my precious thoughts, Henry.

Did you bring the movie?

Thumb drive.

What are you, Henry, about five-ten,

160 pounds?

164. Why?

I'm gonna make a bomb.

We're gonna blow you up.

Oh.

Okay.

Great.

ANDREWS: So, um, where did you learn

how to build homemade bombs?

And, um, does the bomb you're currently working on

have, uh, any chance of blowing us up?

If our organization fails

to put poachers in jail for pillaging our oceans,

we've been known to blow holes in their boats.

You can do that?

Not legally.

There.

Put the vest on.

(sighs anxiously)

I see I'm right on time.

(beeping) Okay, bomb's hot.

Behind the wall.

GRISSOM: Three, two,

one...

Look at the blast circumference.

Now, look at the blast pattern from the casino.

SIDLE: Yeah, they're identical.

Hmm.

Now look at this.

See the outline

on the brick of the C4 wrapper?

The rectangle?

There's enough explosive here to level the entire casino floor.

Well, based on the tool marks

in the stick of putty, the bomber only used a quarter

of the explosive.

Explains why there weren't more casualties.

What's bothering me is all the C4 we can't account for.

(piano playing upbeat melody)

♪ I'm a little caterpillar inching along ♪

♪ I munch on leaves ♪

♪ Is that so wrong? ♪

♪ I sleep in trees July to June ♪

♪ Hear me snore in my cocoon ♪

♪ When I wake up ♪

♪ I'm not a worm ♪

♪ Nature kicks in ♪ Closer to the kids.

♪ And then I learn ♪

Sure.

♪ I have wings ♪

♪ Oh, my, my ♪

♪ I'm a beautiful butterfly ♪

♪ Fly, fly, butterfly ♪

♪ High, high, up in the sky ♪

♪ Fly, fly, butterfly ♪

♪ High up in the sky ♪

♪ When you see me in the sky ♪

Sit down!

♪ ...how I fly ♪

(kids continue singing; parents murmuring, whispering)

Should I pull it now?

I'm gonna pull it now.

MAN: Hey, down in front!

WOMAN: Your seat's back here, ma'am. MAN: Hey, lady!

Pull it now?

Hey, you're blocking the view.

My God, she's got a bomb!

(everyone screaming) Oh, my God! Go!

(screaming, clamoring)

(screaming, clamoring fade into distance)

(door creaks shut)

♪ ♪

ANTHONY HURST: Ma'am?

(over radio): I'm here from the Las Vegas Bomb Disposal Unit.

Is it okay if I approach?

(sirens wailing in distance) Are you doing okay?

(siren approaching) You're doing great.

I just want to check you out.

Can you tell me your name?

Ma'am, I...

I'm gonna have to get a little closer to take a peek.

I'm gonna get you out of here in no time.

Correction.

I'll get us out of here in no time.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no.

You don't want to do that, ma'am.

You're already a hero today, ma'am.

All the children got out alive.

Why would she make me say that?

Someone's feeding her commands, just like the male bomber.

Can you get audio on the voice, male or female?

Anthony...

can you establish gender of the voice in her ear?

No, negative.

The voice is too soft.

I got four colored wires here.

I'm gonna have to cut them in order.

WOMAN: Okay...

I will. I'll tell him.

Sir?

Sir?

I'm almost there. Stop!

Time's up.

I just got one more.

I'm here for Lady Heather.

(explosion thunders)

(car alarms wailing) OFFICER: Let's go! Move!

Inside! Move out! Let's go!

Oh, my God.

(sirens wailing in distance)

(indistinct radio communication in distance)

SIDLE: It doesn't make sense.

Why wouldn't the bomber take out

every man, woman and child when she could?

I think whoever was on the other end of that earpiece

was in the process of trying to exercise control.

I think...

he was sending us a message.

"He"?

You don't even think there's a possibility

that Lady Heather was on the other end of that earpiece?

I don't.

Gil, she's a puppeteer.

She's been controlling people for a living for years.

So, according to your theory,

Lady Heather is the dominant in this scenario,

giving orders.

And the female bomber is the submissive,

taking orders, right?

Right. By rule,

the dominant is not allowed to hurt the submissive.

And if, for some reason, they do,

the submissive is allowed to use the safe word

and discontinue the pain.

This is not some fetish game.

Sara, Heather would never hurt anyone

with the intent to kill,

especially innocent people and children.

It goes against everything she stands for therapeutically.

What was your safe word with her?

Stop.

We certainly could've used that word today.

Hello, girls.

My name is Catherine Willows.

I'm a special agent with the FBI.

You're probably wondering why you're here.

(sighs quietly)

At school today, did you hear

about anything happening in the news?

Some kid said a bomb went off?

That's right.

There was an explosion at the Eclipse hotel.

Mom works there.

I know, sweetheart, that's why I'm here.

Is she okay?

I'm sorry, honey...

your mother passed away earlier today.

(both crying)

But listen...

I want you to know that

I was with your mom before she died,

and she held my hand like I'm holding yours

right now...

and she told me

how proud she was

of her daughters Maria and Helena.

What's gonna happen now?

Who's gonna look after us?

What about your father?

Mom was all we had.

We don't have anyone else.

I talked to the principal.

The woman who blew herself up was a teacher here.

This is her classroom.

According to him, she'd been put on administrative leave twice,

for mental instability.

The school district paid for a therapist.

You'll never guess the name.

Dr. Kessler.

What kind of a person straps a bomb to her chest

at self-detonates it

at a school?

Perhaps someone under the influence

of Devil's Breath.

Burundanga.

The most dangerous drug in the world.

It's a flower that grows rampant in South America.

One whiff of its airborne pollen, and the recipient

relinquishes all control.

They'll do anything on command

from emptying their bank accounts for strangers

to putting on a suicide vest.

I found these on the teacher's desk.

My theory is that who's behind the bombings

gave her these flowers right before

she went into that school play.

Wow... (laughs)

Thank you.

Um, that's so sweet.

Uh, are you, are you a parent?

(inhales, exhales)

GRISSOM: Neurologically, the drug is so potent,

it literally turned off

the judgment receptors in her brain,

'causing her to kill

without pressing the consequences.

So, did the first bomber, the male from the casino,

have Devil's Breath in his system?

According to tox, no.

BRASS: Well, I don't think the male bomber

needed any extra flower power.

He was already pissed off at the casino for losing all his money.

SANDERS: So, what are the connections

between the two bombers?

Both were patients of Lady Heather.

WILLOWS: Is she the co-conspirator

in all this, or the mastermind?

I think she's being framed.

SIDLE: Uh, Grissom has this theory that

Lady Heather's being framed even though he doesn't have a motive

and making every argument to validate her innocence,

when everything that he's ever taught us

about the sanctity of evidence...

points to her.

Everything you say is true.

But we still don't have proof.

So, what if it's not her?

Who else could it be?

Who might have access to things

they shouldn't have access to?

(device beeping intermittently)

(device beeping continuously)

(beeping stops)

♪ ♪

Three months of cassettes missing.

Hey, Jim.

(clunk nearby) BRASS: Go ahead, Sara. What's up?

Hello?

Jim, are you still outside?

I'm here.

There's someone in the house.

Dr. Kessler?

Dr. Kessler!

Stop right there! Heather!

Stop! Don't move!

(engine starts, revs)

Heather!

You okay?

Yeah, I'm okay. I'm all right.

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!

Hey, hey.

You have some thermal burns, okay?

We need to get you to the hospital.

Just stay with me, all right?

Hold onto me.

This is CSI Sidle.

I need an ambulance and the fire department.

DISPATCH: Copy that, CSI Sidle.

(continues indistinctly) ...ambulance and fire.

♪ ♪

I'm sorry, Gil.

♪ ♪

WOMAN: Ah...

MAN: Yeah, I mean, we're hiring, so...

WOMAN: Hmm, yeah, well, I know that, but...

you weren't paying very much.

Hello, Heather.

Thank you for coming.

You still have your rings.

You never take your rings off.

Why would I?

I have to bring you in.

Everyone in law enforcement

thinks you're responsible for these bombings.

I am.