All language subtitles for CSI.Crime.Scene.Investigation.s03e10.WEB-DL.720p

Woke up this morning
with a head full of snow

Was it a dream?

Picked up me body

For the ride of a lifetime
is what it seemed...

Oh!

All the way across.

Did you see that? Oh!

That's it. Let's see it.
Come on. Bust it, bro.

Relax, man,
I'm going!

You've got it.
Don't puss out on me!

Oh!

Oh!
Oh!

Sick! Yeah.

Yeah, I thought for sure

you were going
to eat it, though.

No way, man.

I had that thing hooked up.

Oh, hooked up?

You got lucky, man.

(distant thud)

(wind whipping)

(thud)

Ugh!

Oh, my God!

(garbled radio transmission)

We beat
Grissom here?

That's a first.

Yeah? Maybe for you.

Hey, how you doing?

The jumper's
a John Doe.

No wallet

no keys, no ID.

Yeah, that's the least
of this guy's problems.

The building's got
to be what, uh...

six stories high?

Six stories, 60 stories.

It's not how you fall,
it's how you land.

You know,
if you landed

head first,
there should be more blood.

Yeah, and more brain matter.

He didn't jump.

(beep)

Up here.

It's never the fall
that kills you.

Rain or not,

I'm not finding
any shoe prints.

High-velocity spatter
usually implies a gunshot.

No casings or
bullets, either.

Severe head trauma.

It happened before the fall.

Sure looks like it.

Hand to hand combat?

Kill and dump.

(grunting)

(thudding)

Hey.

Hey.

I think the prints are out.

Bones burst right
through the skin.

Compound fracture
of the long bones

including the phalanges.

Extensive laceration.

What about dental?

Yeah.

There might be
enough to work with.

You think?

Hey, wait a minute. Look.

You might have another option.

Check out that artwork.

Tattoo.

You think
you can stretch that out?

Yeah, no problem.

(sighs)

Wallet was
with the vic.

Money, cards, IDs.

Name's Roger Edmonds.

Oar's his, too.

Single gunshot
wound to the chest

through and through.

Entry wound is massive.

Unburned gunpowder.

He was shot at close range.

Oar door... is closed...

but not latched.

Vic was in a hurry?

To get in
or get out?

Good question.

I don't see any bullet holes.

(sniffles)

What's this?

Ah, blood and hair.

Maybe the vic got a piece
of the perp.

Waitress phoned it in.

Look, I got
to get out of here, okay?

My kid's with a sitter

and it's not
like this gig covers daycare.

Yeah, I know what that's like.

I got a kid at home myself.

So what,
now we're, like, related?

Ah,

you know what,
get it off your chest.

It sucks.

You're living
for everybody but yourself.

But you know what?

You're still breathing.

So?

So, I'm out here busing tables,
and I hear voices.

(shouting)

It's nothing new
around here.

(gunshot)

And it's like a bomb goes off.

I mean... I thought I was deaf.

Then what?

And then one guy's
on the ground

and the other guy's taking off.

And no, I didn't see his face.

Did you see a license plate?

No.

Can you describe the vehicle?

It was a pickup.

With one of those cover things

on the back,
you know, a...
Camper top.

I know what it's called.

Look, Roger was
a regular, okay?

Draft beer.

Tonight, he's
drinking J.D.

Straight up, six in an hour.

If you ask me,
he was looking for trouble.

I've been searching high and low
for a blunt object.

Crowbar, two-by-four, brick,
something like that.

Nothing.

But I did find this crack pipe.

(voice grows fainter)
I'll get it back to the lab,

see if I can get some prints
off of it.

This roof's not that accessible,
you know?

(almost inaudible)
Besides, coming all the way
up here to get high and low...

(inaudible)

Swab it, print it, bag it.

See if you can find out
who smoked it.

Okay.

Wow.

.50-caliber.

Yeah, you need a cannon

to fire a hunk of lead that big.

Feel like hunting for a bullet?

Anything it might have hit, it
would have ripped right through.

Thing's probably still moving.

Leah.

Good to have you back on nights.

I know.

I hate days.

I came to you
for your expert opinion.

Shoot.

See what you can make of this.

Hmm.

Use of only black and gray ink

is known as fine-line.

Not a "scratcher" job.

You recognize this?

Signed by the artist himself.

Take a look.

L-I?

In Roman numerals, two.

As in "tat-too."

Premier skin artist in Vegas.

Also a PhD in psychology.

He's a shrink?

Mm-hmm.

So he gets in your head
and
under your skin, huh?

You're a gem.

Thank you.

I got a new one.

Really?

Check it out.

Nice.

The rose is still
my favorite, though.

(whirring)

Is the doctor in?

Yes, I am.

Hmm.

Skin and ink, ink and skin...

one makes the other one live.

You see, that's

strength

and that's superiority

and that's ambition
without limit.

See, it's the chosen one.

Hmm.

This is my book.

All my victims.

His name was Jimmy Maurer.

Was?

What do you mean,
that's not his name anymore?

He died, didn't he?

Well, his fate was inevitable.

I simply gave it form.

Strength, superiority
and ambition, huh?

Not exactly the characteristics
of an angel.

No, it's not an angel.

It's Greek mythology.

Icarus.

He flew too close to the sun
on wings of feathers and wax.

And when the wax melted,
he plunged to his death.

Hubris.

Is that what brought Jimmy down,
as well?

Hey, man, you tell us.

How should I know?

Hey, Greggy, any
luck on those blood
and hair samples?

Don't insult me.

Luck is for those
without skill.

Hmm, spoken like a man
who's never hit a jackpot.

Sad but true.

Slot plot on the
blood and hair...

came back negative.

Not human.
They're animal.

Hmm.

You can take that
with you if you want.

Thanks, I will.

And I spoke
with Brass.

That squirrelly
tattoo artist
had a record.

For what?

Drug conviction:
Crack cocaine.

You got a print
off of that pipe?

Lab's working on it now.

Hey, Doc.

Hi, fellows.

Cause of death...
any takers?

Phew. Blunt force trauma.

You know if he's asking

we're not going
to figure it out.

Nicely played.

It's suffocation.

After I cleaned him up,
I noticed bluish

discolorations on his lips

and on what's left
of his nail beds.

Cyanosis?

Body was starved
for oxygen.

Strangled, and then thrown
off of the roof?

Found no ligature
marks on his neck

no petechial hemorrhaging.

Hence, no forcible suffocation.

Okay, not beaten
to death

not strangled
to death.

But something
bad went down
on that roof.

He left half his
head up there, man.

Uh, more like... uh...

25%.

Suffocation means
he died with his brain

still in his head.

Yeah, but there's
no evidence

of anyone else
at the scene.

How do you suffocate
alone on a rooftop?

You don't.

All right.

High impact
from a high altitude.

Well, above 15,000 feet,
hypoxia can occur in minutes.

He died in the sky.

Yeah... and the
rest is gravity.

You know, your vic
was an interesting guy.

He had no home address.

Just post office boxes

in California, Utah, Vegas.

Drive a car?

Nissan XTerra.

Cali tags and license,
but he was all squared away.

None of this
explains

how he dropped
out of the sky.

Well, the, uh,
possibilities
are limited.

Either he was pushed out
of a plane

or he stowed away in
the landing gear, or, um...

skydiving gone bad.

Oh, none of that works.

I talked to Air Traffic Control

and they had no aircraft
operating in that area

at that time.

La Lluvia de Peces.

What?

The raining of fish.

Occasionally, usually
in the early spring

in Yoro, Honduras,
it rains, um...

sardines.

Sardines?
That's funny.

Really.

I've seen it.

I mean, the scientific
explanation is...

this sounds like
a Grissom thing...

is that they get sucked
out of the ocean

by these waterspouts
that are like, you know,

you know, tornadoes,
and, uh, then...

Look, the point is, Warrick

they got to come from somewhere.

They got to come
from somewhere.

What the hell
were you doing in Honduras?

Bobby.

Not a lot of guns
chambered

for 50 AE.

It kind of narrows the field.

Got AMT

Auto Mag Five,
LAR Grizzly...

Desert Eagle?

Yeah, how'd you know?

I had O'Riley
run the vic

for registered firearms.

It turns out that
Roger Mitchel purchased

a Magnum Research Desert Eagle

Mark-Seven
three weeks ago.

I know the gun.

Idiot-big and shiny.

Right, well, you know

some men feel the need
to compensate.

Actually, a gun like that
intimidates, makes a statement.

Yes, it does.

Beer drinker
switches to bourbon.

He's got himself
a brand-new gun.

He's just looking for a fight.

Statement is, "Bring it on."

So, full of liquid courage,
he hauls out the big iron.

But a drunk
is not hard to disarm.

(grunting)

(gunshot)

Vic gets shot
with his own weapon.

And the perp walks away
with the murder weapon.

According to Trace,
the yellow dust

on Jimmy Maurer's leg
was Pinion Pine pollen.

Say that three times fast.

Pinion's a desert tree
found in higher elevations

4,500 feet and up.

4,500 feet...

Mount Potosi.

Yeah, it fits
the bill to a tee.

I think our vic was there
before he died.

That's on the ground.

Let's get on the Net and figure
out how he got into the air.

Yeah, look under what?
Hot air balloons?

There was nothing in the air.

I mean, we can...

(typing)

Flying?

You're a genius.

Of course.

Pinion Pine Pollen,
Pinion Pine Pollen

Pinion Pine Pollen.

That camper-top pickup
was reported stolen.

The R.O. Is a Ned Bookman.

Lives in Henderson.

Well, that's three
miles from here.

That's walking distance.

Gets better.

Ned Bookman and our vic
live on the same street.

Ooh, neighbors.

Ignition block's intact.

No sign of forced entry.

Hey, do you smell something?

Like what?

Something...

fruity.

I thought that was
your perfume.

No.

I never wear perfume at work.

It dulls the sense of smell.

A-ha.

Mulberries.

(tones sounding)

(lower tone sounding)

(lower tone sounding)

(higher tone sounding)

(very low tone sounding)

(camera clicking)

It's amazing
how simple it is.

Air fills the canopy
and you're off.

Yeah, sounds like you
want to go for a spin.

Well, it looks like
it might be a rush.

Paragliding's
a two-piece system...

harness and canopy.

Now, the canopies are fitted
to you according to body weight

so if anyone has dropped
a few for vanity

speak up now, please.

No?

Okay.

You're going
to want to look around.

Take in the sights.

Do it.

Enjoy it.

The best view
in the world.

But don't forget,
we weren't born with wings.

We had to make them.

So respect
the equipment, okay?

All right, then.
It's time to fly.

Any last questions?

Yeah.

Yeah, I know Jimmy.

The guy's got
an attitude. Cocky.

Might be able to handle
his own in the air

but I don't care for his style.

What's his style?

Well, he likes
to grandstand.

You know, this sport's
about soaring.

He's about showing off.

Looks like it should be
about having fun.

Yeah, it's
about having fun.

But there's etiquette.

I mean, a guy
breezes in from nowhere

does things his own way...

Ah, maybe the...

walk back'll
humble him a little.

The walk back?

When you fly

you need thermals

or upshots of air used for lift.

I mean, on a good day, you
can stay airborne for hours.

How high do these
thermals get?

Well, you can take them
as far as they take you.

One time I was above
18,000 feet, when I came down

I was about 35 miles
from where I launched.

Whoa.

Yeah, the walk back.

That's Jimmy's truck;
it's been there

since yesterday.

What kind of trouble
is he in anyway?

The worst kind.

Thanks, Rick.

Ah, crap!

Like we said,
your truck's not here.

So why didn't you
report it stolen?

Look, I got another car.

I hardly ever use the pickup.

I work nights.

Anybody could've
stolen it.

You know,
I mean...

it could happen.

Hmm.

Hide-a-key.

Empty.

Anybody else

know about this?

Apparently.

Now how well
did you know the victim?

Roger lived
across the street.

Didn't make us pals,
just neighbors.

Looks like Roger's
got a mulberry tree.

So, Ned, we found

mulberry branches
in your pickup

and there's
a mulberry tree

in your dead neighbor's yard.

I'm starting to like
you, Ned

and not in a good way.

Uh, F-F-Frank Kraft
stole my truck.

Uh...

I mean, I mean
he-he borrowed it.

He-he...

he borrows my stuff.

I don't mind.

Let me guess, um,
Frank Kraft lives in

the blue house on
the other side of the fence.

He and Roger, uh...

had problems.

But you didn't
hear it from me.

Please don't say anything.

This guy's got a surfboard
for California

and a snowboard
for Utah.

And a paragliding canopy
for Nevada.

Ripped to shreds.

It's mine now.

I'll swab it for epithelials.

If his canopy
was ripped to shreds,

what the hell
was he flying with?

What's that?

"Guess you
can
fly
with anything.

Find me
when you get back... T."

What?

I'll check it out.

Jimmy once told me

"Only a paraglider knows
why the birds sing."

(chuckling)

That sounds
like a line.

It is.
They all use it.

Skydivers, hang gliders, pilots.

On some girls it even works.

Did it work on you?

My art is an attempt to express
what it feels like to fly

and Jimmy
was helping me feel that.

Jimmy's leg loops are unbuckled.
How come?

He never
buckled them.

Jimmy enjoyed showing people up.

It wasn't enough for him
to be a great flyer.

He needed everyone to see
that he was fearless.

I know that
didn't sit real well

with Rick Weston.

When did you take this one?

Yesterday.

And is that the canopy
Jimmy normally flew with?

Mm-mm.

Where'd he get it?

I don't know.

He told me somebody
messed with his rig,

but that wasn't going
to keep him out of the air.

And who's he butting
heads with here?

Fred Dacks.

Who's that?

He's a good flyer.
He's very competitive.

And by the looks
of things,

he was pretty
competitive with Jimmy.

Always.

You think that's going
to give you the edge?

I could fly with anything.

Then show me some air, punk.

(clicking)

Is that Fred there

in the yellow and white canopy?

Jimmy followed his line.

He went after him hard.

Had to win
at all costs.

Expensive price to pay.

This guy Kraft has a dozen
complaints filed against him

by residents on the block.

Property line disputes,
petty theft, one assault.

A regular Mr. Rogers.

Yeah.

Check this out.

Creative parking?

Something.

(knocking)

What do you want?

Frank Kraft?

So what?

Detective O'Riley.

Vegas P.D.

This is Catherine Willows
from the Crime Lab.

We'd like to have a
few words with you.

Show me the badge.

That's a hell of a
bruise you've got

on your chin, Mr. Kraft.

How did you get that?

I sent away for it.

You want one of your own?

(chuckles lightly)

Recoil's a bitch, isn't it?

(gunshot, grunting)

Do you have a dog?

Do you have a warrant?

No, we're just talking here.

Nice fellow.

According to the manager,

Fred Dacks has been working here
for three years.

Model employee,
knows his gear.

Hi.
Hi.

I'm looking
for Fred Dacks.

He's right over there.

Thanks.
You're welcome.

But guess who just got
hired here a month ago?

Uh, Jimmy Maurer?

Yeah. Small world, huh?

Yeah, I'll say.

Fred Dacks?

Yeah, what can
I do for you?

I'm Warrick Brown.
This is Nick Stokes.

We're from the Las Vegas
Crime Lab.

We need to ask you a few
questions about Jimmy Maurer.

Jimmy.

The guy was a punk.

Other than paragliding
and working here

we had nothing in common.

Except maybe that tattoo
right there.

Yeah, only 'cause that fool
bit it off me.

This was a one-of-a-kind

around here until he rolled in

with his little birdman
or whatever.

You mean Icarus, right?

Whatever, it doesn't
change a thing.

The guy was a mouth.

He threw shade
all over the place.

Really?

Yeah.

Funny, that's what
we heard about you.

Oh, is that right?

From who?
That artsy chick?

He was sticking it to her.

What did you think
she was going to say?

Plus, she was still
pissed at me

that I didn't take part

in her little
"masterpiece."

That really doesn't
concern me, Mr. Dacks.

What I want to know is

did you fly with Jimmy
the day he died?

Hell, no.

I wouldn't fly with him.

Dude can't match my skills.

Nothing but a menace.

Try again.

Your yellow canopy.

We know that's you, Fred.

Oh, yeah. See?

Tight line, leading edge

to the wind.
Carving it up.

Must be me.

(driving rock music pounding)

I'm gone, baby!

Ow!

Whoo! Yeah!

Yeah, yeah, I remember
now, all right?

Last time I saw Jimmy,
he was still

on the ground
tugging on his junk.

It wasn't his junk.
It was someone else's.

Well, then, why are you
talking to me, man?

'Cause the only rig
I got is my own.

We done?

Yeah, for now.

Uh-huh.

Uh, you know what?

I'll take this one.

Let me guess.

Citizen Ned doesn't want
to get involved?

Kraft scares the crap
out of the guy.

Well, I guess he doesn't want
to be seen talking to us.

Boiled down,
basically he said
Kraft and the vic

had a pretty
bad history.

Yeah, that's becoming
really clear.

Check this out.

Kraft was stealing
cable from Edmonds.

Edmonds cuts the line.

Hate thy neighbor.

Did Ned mention anything
about Kraft's dog?

Only that it was always
chained up in the yard.

And always barking.

(barking)

(tires screeching)

I'm starting to think

the victim may have
taken care of that.

What about
the tire marks?

Not enough detail...
we'd never get a match.

We can't check
Kraft's property out

without a warrant.

But...

Oh, that won't get you
a warrant, either.

You like jigsaw puzzles?

Epithelials on
the slashed canopy

match the ones on the
sleeping bag drawstring.

Fred Dacks,
both places.

Thank you and good night.

(exhales)

So Fred does a number

on Jimmy's canopy to
keep him from flying.

He's threatened
by the guy.

It's to keep from getting
shown up, you know.

He needs to be
the top dog, huh?
Hmm.

Yeah, that sounds like you.

Who?
You.

That sounds
like both of you.

Now please,
can you take this

somewhere else?

So... Jimmy gets a new canopy.

Flies, dies.

Comes down
unattached.

We got no canopy,
we got no harness.

If we want to find out
what happened,

we need to find that rig.

Well, you're not going
to find it here.

Hey, hey, hey,
hey, hey.

Have you taken
your medication today?

See ya.

125 hertz?

Minus 30 decibels.

It's a significant decline
from your last visit.

Yes, but most human speech
is above 300 hertz.

My midrange is still clear.

If it were clear all the time,
you wouldn't be here.

I think it's time
to consider

something like... surgery.

Think about it.

Let me know.

He took off here

and he came down here,
right?

Yeah.

Now, the canopy's designed
to soar.

Has to fall downwind
of the body.

And at 15,000 feet,
wind was northeast

at 22 miles per hour.

Well, we get a little
classical dynamics going on

we can find this rig.

Search area
is northeast Summerlin.

Yeah, let's put out a broadcast.

Patrol unit spotted it
on a routine traffic stop.

Yeah, we lucked out.

Phew.

What have we got?

Well...

Bingo.

These leg loops are unbuckled.

I guess there's no surprise
there.

15,000 feet up,
no helmet

the only thing
holding you in

are two shoulder harnesses
and a chest strap.

Not the kind of rush
you're looking for?

Uh-uh.

(rustling)

Check this out.

"Property of Potosi
Glide Center."

That makes two liars.

Weston didn't tell us

he gave Jimmy
his replacement rig.

'Cause he knew
how it would end up.

Jimmy never had a chance, man.

No way. I wanted to see him
get his ass kicked, not killed.

Yeah, problem is
he did get killed.

Flying your canopy.

I don't know how that happened.

Well, it seems
the lines leading

to the A-riser were cut.

Your rig,
your responsibility.

This is your chance.

I'd take it.

Fred said that, uh...

he just wanted to teach Jimmy
a lesson.

Rick.

Yeah?

Jimmy's going to hit
you up for a canopy.

Why don't you give him
something big and slow?

Oh, I got that
blue-green trainer.

That ought to be fun.

(chuckles)
Perfect.

Ten minutes later

Jimmy shows up all hot.

He asked, I gave, he took.

Couldn't let Fred get the better
of him.

Look...

Jimmy lacked discipline.

He needed to be brought down
a peg or two.

You brought him
all the way down.

Don't tell me.

Rick pleaded ignorance.

Right before
he lawyered it up.
Really?

Well, that guy's
wasting his money.

Take a look.

It's frayed.

You're saying if he had cut it
with a tool, it'd be clean.

These lines are spun polymer.

They're lightweight,
but strong as hell

covered in a plastic shell.

Now, over time

that plastic coating
wears down.

Unprotected lines
rub against one another

weakening, fraying, until...

snap!

It's normal wear
and tear, man.

But Weston knew that
that canopy was in bad shape.

And we don't have any evidence
to suggest that he sabotaged it.

Do you remember a case
about a year ago?

Diablo Canyon?

Oh, the victim of sudden weather
that you thought was murdered.

Yeah.

You fool me once, shame on you.

You fool me twice...
shame on me.

(clears throat)

Can you help me out?

Uh... depends.

I can't get out
into the field

because I'm maxed out
on overtime for the month.

Ah, and you're confined
to the lab, huh?

Well, hey, look,
it's regular hours.

I mean, go have dinner
with the boyfriend...

Hank, right?

And, and...
go, go to a spa.

Hank is not my boyfriend.

And you know, those places
are filled with bacteria.

Sara, I don't make the rules
around here.

You've got to talk to Grissom

about that.

Yeah... he's, um, he's not
really in a talking mood.

What makes you think
he's going to talk to me?

Get some rest.

I'm not tired.

Really.

I'm not tired.

That's the cumulus cloud
right there, right,

formed by warm air rising?

The thermals?

Yeah, the-the bigger the cloud,

the more air
that gets sucked in

the stronger the thermal.

And check out our boys,
heading straight for it.

Yep. He's probably getting
the ride of his
life.

(wind gusting)

He's rising fast.

Air is getting thinner.

15,000 feet

he passes out and suffocates.

(wind gusting)

(gasping)

You catch a good thermal

and you take it
as far as it takes you...

dead or alive.

(wind gusting)

And to show Fred up,
Jimmy had to fly higher.

But he had an oxygen tank
on his harness.

Why didn't he use it?

Good question.

The key word here:
Retaliation.

Roger Edmonds cuts the cable

that you stole.

He was stealing it himself.

Of course he was.

(sighs)
So, then you...
chop up his tree...

borrow Ned's truck
to dump the branches...

I borrow Ned's stuff
all the time.

He doesn't mind.

It's not important to him.
It's no big deal...

Shut up.

This isn't about Ned.

It's about Roger.

So...

while you're out dumping
the branches

Roger comes home,

sees what
you've done to his tree.

Ups the ante.

(dog barking)

(tires squeal)

(barks)

You return home...

find your dog...

start looking for Roger.

Your dog look as
bad as my tree?

(both grunting and muttering)

...my dog!

Huh, you want some
of this, pal, huh?!

Come on! Come on!

(gunshot)
(screams)

(gasping)

Detective.

Desert Eagle.

Something else you...
borrowed?

He killed my dog.

Well, the gauge reads full.

Yeah, I don't think
it works, bro.

There's only one way
to find out.

Flowing fine.

(sighs)

An experienced flyer

prepared for
the altitude.

There's no reason not
to use his oxygen.

(scoffs)

Unless he didn't think
he needed it.

(machinery whirring)

Okay.

Las Vegas is 2,030 feet
above sea level.

You got that thing
plugged in yet?

There it is.

Let's see what we've got.

(computer beeps)

30 feet.

(chuckles)

I, uh, I think we're off
by a couple of Gs.

I'll dust it.

Jimmy's altimeter,
your fingerprints...

on the inside.

That's cute.

You should put it in a frame.

So I fix gear for other flyers
sometimes, big deal.

Oh, you fixed it,
all right.

You decalibrated it.

It was off by 2,000 feet.

In the air,
you lose perspective.

You have to trust
your instruments.

Jimmy didn't know
how high he actually was.

(canopy rustling)

(wind gusting)

Hey, I already told you, man,
this dude was soft in the air.

He could've turned back anytime.

But you knew he wouldn't.

You set him up.

Yeah... perfect sky,

massive canopy,
bitchin' thermals, dude,

and a challenge
he'd never refuse.

You played him against himself.

(wind gusting)

(canopy rustling)

You couldn't stand the fact
that he was better than you.

Hey, I called him out.
He took me on.

Bigger air, higher altitudes,

push the limit, dude.

That's why we fly.

No, it's not why
you
fly.

The truth is on your arm.

Alecto...

Megaera, Tisiphone...
the Three Furies.

Unceasing anger

vengeance and jealousy.

That's what
you're about.

Sorry, dude.

Hey, Catherine.

Hey... I heard you know
your Greek mythology.

I'm impressed.
Never would've guessed.

Yeah, I'm a mystery.

Yes, you are.

(chuckles)

So, where's Nick?

He bugged out early.

Well, good work, you guys...
both of you.

Would you let him know?

Thanks. Yeah, I will.

I'll see you around.

All right. Have a good morning.

You, too.

Closed that murder
I was working.

A man's life for a dog's life
for a mulberry tree.

(sighs)
Sometimes I wonder
if people are meant

to live together.

Well, you know
what they say...

"Good fences make
good neighbors."

Then you'd make
a
great
neighbor.

Hmm.

(chuckles)

New case?

Ongoing.

Oh...

...bugs.

Mmm.

Enjoy.

(beeps)

(sighs)

Whoo-hoo!