Original subtitles

Get it up

Get it up

(fast-tempo techno pop music playing)

Get it up

(jet engine roaring)

Get it up

Get it up

And make my dreams come true

Of course.

Of course,

of course.

(laughter and chatter)

How's that, good?

(gasps)

Sha-sha.

And make my dreams come true...

Hey, folks, we've hit a little more

of that pesky turbulence.

If you'd kindly take your seats,

we should be arriving on the hour.

Fasten your seat belt, please.

Thank you.

It's okay.

Cheers.

Cheers to Harper!

(laughter and chatter continues)

(horse neighing)

(horse neighing)

(snorting)

(chains clanging)

(horse neighing)

(snorting)

The victim's name is Lori Hutchins.

Apparently, she chaperoned the horse

on trips all the time.

Baggage handler found the body in the cargo hold

after the passengers had disembarked.

We're going to need to process everyone on that plane.

Well, they're being corralled as we speak, partner.

Where to start?

First witness, first suspect.

The horse?

Of course. (horse snorts)

(jet engine roaring)

(engine roaring fades)

All right, let's talk about Lori Hutchins.

What can you tell me about her?

She was sweet, polite, quiet.

Horses were her life.

She was great with them.

And she always traveled down below with the horse?

Checked on her twice during the flight.

Brought her dinner about three hours in.

She was worried about the horse,

but that was nothing new.

So nothing unusual.

There was some turbulence, but nothing outrageous.

We had an emergency call button

down there, if something went wrong.

Lori never used it.

(shutter clicking)

(shutter clicking)

Where's the horse?

USDA facility.

Mandatory 48-hour quarantine.

A hundred-pound woman trampled by a 1,400-pound horse?

Doesn't seem very fair.

Tranquilizer dart.

Changes the odds a little.

Mm.

Yeah...

heavy artillery.

More than one way to handicap a horse.

(horse neighing)

Okay, ho, ho!

(cocking gun)

(gunshot) Oh!

Folly... no!

(whinnying)

(hooves thudding)

What have you got?

Trainer had all these small syringes.

Why go for the big guns instead?

I don't know. Maybe she didn't want to get too close

to a spooked horse.

What about this food?

Steward said he brought her some dinner.

Guess she wasn't very hungry.

Looks like someone stepped in horse crap.

And what was the vic wearing?

Work boots, I think.

That's a funky print.

Oh... a J.P. Tod's driving loafer.

Hmm?

I may shop the outlets...

but I read Vogue.

Beautiful Death Valley, huh?

You get lost out here, you're toast.

That may have been the idea.

(bird screeches)

Helicopter tour pilot noted it and called it in.

Deathbed...

casket-ready.

Laying in the Hell's Gate section of Death Valley.

Poetic.

More like suicidal.

(shutter clicking)

Is that bird crap?

Could be.

Toby Wellstone.

McKinley High School.

12/12/87.

What's that on his hand?

Looks like a transdermal patch.

Fentanyl.

Absorbs faster through the pores of the hand.

Intentional overdose. I'll notify the parents.

We're 85 miles from Las Vegas,

one mile from the closest road.

If this was a solo job, how did he get here?

I see some tracks over there, but...

they could be from anything: A surveyor's tool...

a remote-controlled car...

Anything with wheels.

Oh, I'll tell you.

Some days, it's tough to be me.

You know, I wish that the seats

were as organized as that bar.

We have the passenger manifest.

No assigned seating, 12 passengers

24 shoes,

36 lawyers.

What was this, a smoking flight?

Yeah, I think we've established the fact

that these people do whatever it is they want.

Now, please, don't make me ALS.

Hey, man, I don't want to go blind

any more than you do.

Ooh...

looky here.

A little DNA party.

Hmm... hmm.

Ugh.

Bloody towels.

Well, at least something made it into the trash can.

You're not permitted in the quarantine area.

I know it's 48 hours, I know the rules,

but I need to see my horse. You two can go in.

I want to talk to Dr. Stevens.

He's my vet. I'm sorry, ma'am.

Dr. Stevens.

How's she doing?

Shaken up.

Horses are incredibly sensitive to change.

Travel's hard on them.

How about losing a trainer?

Like losing a best friend.

I just don't understand how

this could've happened.

We're going to need to pull

some samples from that horse.

Okay.

Thank you.

This looks recent. What happened here?

High Folly is what we call a "dirty mare."

Prone to serious uterine infections.

Caslick stitching keeps out fluids and bacteria.

So you stitch her up until it's time to breed?

I know it sounds bad, but I promise

having an acute infection is worse.

And there's no greater tragedy than a champion who can't breed.

Is this some kind of food?

I don't know. It could be.

We'll need a blood sample.

We found a tranquilizer gun in the container.

I want to double-check it.

You never use a tranq gun on a horse.

The impact energy would cause

an immediate adrenaline response.

Make the horse more agitated.

We'll still need that sample.

Hey. Nobody's here to claim the body?

Nope.

I don't know what's worse,

consoling a grieving parent,

or finding a kid with no parents at all.

No parents?

No, this kid has been through

seven foster homes in seven years.

System lost track of him a year ago.

McKinley High School said the same thing.

He was out more than he was in.

Kid was a ghost.

Treated himself to a hamburger

with pickles and ketchup, chocolate shake,

and what I can only assume was super-size fries.

So, that's what killed him.

That's a five-course meal to a teenager.

More like a last supper, I'm afraid.

He took a synthetic narcotic, fentanyl.

By patch and by pill.

Yeah, that's a painkiller.

Used in hospitals, post-surgery.

What is...

cisapride?

That what separates the attempts from the corpses.

It's a prokenetic agent that speeds up

the body's absorption of fentanyl

and it keeps the stomach acids from going into reflux.

No nausea, no vomit.

No vomit, no chance of survival.

Kid did his homework.

Permanent solution to a temporary problem.

Maybe not so temporary.

80% of all completed suicides

have tried previously.

From the scarring, I'd say twice before.

Third time's the charm.

Hey, fashionista.

Brass collected all the shoes. You were right.

Not only did we find a match, but I also found trace elements.

Equus caballus?

Horse dung all the way.

Brass is bringing her in now.

Okay. Thanks.

Our horse trainer has

paramortem bruising and scraping,

ranging from minor to major,

all consistent

with being trampled.

What's not consistent is this:

Pinpoints.

An opiate overdose?

Torphine.

A thousand times as potent as morphine.

Tranquilizer.

Mm-hmm.

One of the bruises

contains a puncture wound

about the same size as that dart you found.

How do you shoot yourself in the shoulder

with a tranquilizer rifle?

Someone else shot her.

And framed the horse.

Miss Fitzgerald, your shoe print

was found in the cargo hold

where Lori Hutchins's body was found.

Please... call me Harper.

Were you down there, Harper?

Yes.

It is my plane. I can go wherever I please.

Lady...

why were you down there?

To woo her.

I know how much Merrit

is paying you.

Now, why don't you write your own check?

Thank you, all the same,

but I'm not making any changes right now.

You don't strike me as the kind of woman

who'd take no for an answer.

Mmm... I'm not.

I figured she'd come around.

Besides...

she's no use to me dead.

Okay, DNA sample.

(sensual warble)

(wry laugh)

Getting a strange sense of deja vu.

It's raining bodies here.

National Park Service found her.

She was beyond our perimeter.

We had no reason to believe that there were more bodies.

They're looking for any others.

Will you turn her over?

He was wearing a suit and she's wearing a prom dress.

That's odd.

No prior scarring on the wrists,

but the same transdermal patch.

That white stuff looks like similar

to what you found near Toby's body.

Seems like Romeo had a Juliet.

Who got out of bed and ended up a half-a-mile away.

Her dress

is-is way too big.

What are you thinking?

Vanity, thy name is teenage girl.

They were trying to go out in style.

Something's off.

The tranquilizer gun looks like a wipe-down,

and there's no prints on the ceiling dart.

How about the dart in the container?

Partial palm print. Not enough for comparison.

But, there was three different matches on the handrail

leading down to the cargo bay.

A Harper Fitzgerald...

Owner of the plane.

Jason Banks...

Steward who brought the vic her dinner.

Rhone Confer.

Formerly a concierge

at the Orpheus.

Concierge...

interesting.

It is?

Those brown shavings

that we collected from the cargo hold

in the horse's teeth were tobacco.

More specifically,

of Volando and Colorado Maduro.

Cigar tobacco.

Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar,

but when it does not contain Propylene Glycol,

an additive used in the humidification process...

Then it's a Cuban cigar.

Dominicans are just as good,

but, uh... they're legal,

so, you know, where's the fun in that?

So if I'm looking for an illegally imported Cuban cigar,

I go to...

Your handy concierge.

What were you doing on that plane?

I'm friendly with Harper.

Friendly?

Is that a job title

or do you perform a specific function for that distinction?

(laughing) You don't get it.

What, what...

what's not to get?

Uh, why don't you help us,

since you're so good at getting things

like Cuban cigars?

Oh, come on.

The embargo on Cuban cigars is ridiculous.

It's still the law.

You break one law, the chances are...

I never went near Lori Hutchins.

Well, we found your prints

on the rail going down into the cargo hold.

Look.

I helped Harper out with a party

at the Orpheus about a year ago.

We hit it off.

She started inviting me to things.

This is my first trip on the jet.

Now, I know I wasn't supposed to go down there, but...

all that stuff?

(chuckles)

Hey, hey, hey, there, buddy.

That's a $60 Cuban.

I got the hell out of there, and I kept my mouth shut.

These people... they don't tolerate a buzz kill,

and I'll be damned

if I'm going to be shot for being the messenger.

So the happier Harper stays,

the fatter your pockets.

I really don't like to talk about money.

How about we talk about DNA?

Hello.

You get anything off of that dress?

I think our girl was a young Madame DeFarge.

She made her own death shroud,

but she didn't know her own measurements.

That's kind of freaky.

Any results

in the sexual assault evidence kit?

No, the kit came back negative.

The stomach contents came back the same.

Identical to Toby's Burger, fries, and a shake.

And, also, the drug ratios were the same

for fentanyl and cisapride.

You know what else is freaky?

Her prints were on his patch,

and his prints were on hers.

She was a willing participant in all this.

Why didn't we find any trash at the crime scene,

and why didn't we find a note?

Well, you know, I read somewhere

that only 15% of suicides actually leave a note,

but you would think, with all the trouble they went through,

they would want to be found.

Together.

Yeah, and after she was sedated,

she crawls away from the scene?

Why?

Hey, girl's library card

matched a missing persons report filed today: Jill Frommer.

Mom's coming in to I.D. The body.

Do you recognize this dress?

No.

Did Jill take Home Ec

or like to sew...

Jill? Please.

No, Jill didn't do anything domestic.

You only realize what you want to teach them

after it's too late.

Toby Wellstone...

he lived with you as a foster kid

about five years ago?

Yeah, for about a year, and then I sent him back.

Can I ask why?

My husband died of cancer,

and I couldn't handle Toby alone.

That boy was just way out of control.

And then about...

about a year ago, Jill brings him home.

Mom, look at Toby's back.

He can't stay there.

It's not safe; you have to help, please.

And you did.

It didn't seem like I had any choice.

I mean, the system didn't care.

Mrs. Frommer,

were Toby and your daughter involved romantically?

You know those moments you look back on

and you wish you'd chosen Door Number Two instead?

My whole life feels like that.

I got nothing left.

To your knowledge, did, um, Jill ever attempt suicide before?

No.

I mean, not that I know of, but with that boy around,

there's no telling what he got her into.

I... I called Social Services.

I tried to get him out of the house.

He was on a list, but nobody wants teenagers, you know?

Just five and under.

Mrs. Frommer, we believe

that Toby and Jill had help.

We'd like a list of their friends.

(sad laugh)

Friends?!

I think it's pretty clear

that my daughter's life was just way out of my hands.

(sighs)

Blood on the paper towels was the vic's, Lori Hutchins.

Found DNA on another area, however.

Epithelials with two donors.

By who?

Well, the vic and... someone else.

Are you being cagey?

I'm trying to transition out of cagey.

You got to round up some more swabs.

Neither Harpo...

Harper.

Whatev-o.

Neither she

nor Rhone Confer was a match.

(phone rings)

Yeah?

I came as soon as I got a call from the USDA.

What happened?

Chronic Metritis.

Uterine infections.

I opened up the caslicks.

I tried antibiotics,

saline lavage...

I guess it was too little, too late.

I found a suture scissors near Lori's body on the plane.

Is it possible that she knew about the infection

and tried to relieve it?

Well, it'd have to be critical

for Lori to try emergency surgery in the air.

Define critical.

Massive swelling...

a threat to High Folly's ability to foal.

I believe we found

our greater tragedy.

Equine necropsy's a lot like human autopsy.

One organ at a time.

You know, they're a lot like us,

except their constitutions are even more sensitive.

A horse can die from indigestion.

"A horse is dangerous at both ends,

and uncomfortable in the middle."

Who said that?

Ian Fleming.

Ah, James Bond fan, huh?

I read the novels when I was a kid.

Well,

the vet flushed and dilated her,

but her white blood cell count was through the roof.

You have any idea what caused the infection?

Hard to tell...

but the uterus is a highly balanced

environment, and an infection can start

with something as simple as a speck of dirt.

The uterine walls sense a foreign body, and attack it.

I thought the stitches were used to prevent

the invasion of foreign bodies.

Well, they're supposed to,

but she's got so much pyometra

in her right uterine horn,

something got in there.

Unless a horse is

opened up, you can't actually reach the horns.

This is outside my purview.

Uncut diamonds?

The horse is a mule.

(school bell ringing)

Jill Frommer?

Dude, that girl was mental.

I used to be friends

with her in, like, fifth grade.

Sometimes I'd pick her up before school,

and she'd always

be waiting outside, like a dork.

When was the last time you saw Jill?

Hmm, she hasn't been at school all year.

I heard she switched schools

to be with some guy.

How lame. Oh, like

you wouldn't do it.

Like, does this dress look familiar?

Oh, my God.

That's the dress that Alyssa made and wore

to last year's homecoming.

When she was fat?

Ladies... who is Alyssa?

Jamison.

Aka GTS.

Goody Two-shoes.

When she's not out saving the planet,

she's healing the sick.

What?

She works as a "Volunteen" at the hospital.

(beep)

Hello. How may I help you?

Hi, there. I'm Sara Sidle, and this

is Warrick Brown.

We're with the Crime Lab.

Did you know Jill Frommer?

Sure.

Did you happen

to give her this dress?

Yes.

Did you also give her

fentanyl and cisapride?

Oh, my God!

She...

killed herself, didn't she?

Yeah, she did.

She gave me a necklace.

Excuse me?

Giving away sacred possessions.

That's one of the sure signs of suicide.

She traded the necklace for my dress.

I told her she didn't have to,

but she kept insisting.

Said that she had something special to wear the dress to,

and the necklace would be collateral.

I took it as a good sign,

because she'd been so depressed lately.

Did you give her any drugs,

or-or give her access to this pharmacy?

I couldn't, even if I wanted to.

Not that I ever would.

According to his receptionist,

Dr. Stevens...

left town...

unexpectedly.

Really?

Well, check this out.

I don't think it's pixie dust.

And...

lots of red lentils.

Supposedly used to keep the diamonds from chipping.

That Dr. Stevens was very involved.

Mmm.

A horse's uterus is the size

of a football, so he could've packed it

with pouches of diamonds.

Why did he leave one behind?

He took what he could reach.

And ran.

But he wasn't on that plane,

so he couldn't have

killed the girl.

He had a partner.

(beeping)

Did you know that the term "carat" comes

from the Mediterranean carob tree,

whose seeds were used for centuries

as a standard of measurement?

No. Um...

so, based on the

six-to-one lentil-to-diamond ratio

in the packet we found,

and assuming that all the packets

are the same size,

I think we're looking for... five more.

Five?

Well, yeah, based on weight,

uh, we've established that approximately 183 grams

of lentils per pack...

732 grams would be...

Oh, my mistake. Four.

Well, it's not a hundred percent accurate, but, uh...

based on shape,

color characteristics,

wavelength absorptions of the regional impurities...

it says that these diamonds come from Central Africa.

Conflict diamonds?

Don't those fund warlords and support child slavery?

Yeah. Bought for pennies on the dollar,

and banned by the UN.

Well, that would explain

why someone felt the need

to smuggle them into the country.

That, and a half a million dollars worth of luxury tax.

No customs, no tax.

And if Lori were about to find out,

explains why someone would want to kill her.

So we've got the how and the why.

We just need the who.

Well, you travel with a well-heeled crowd.

I checked everybody's passports.

Man, you guys get around...

but you're the only one who's been to Sierra Leone.

You know why I became a steward?

I don't know, uh, see the world?

Exactly.

What'd you see in Sierra Leone?

Well, that's the joke.

Free night in Amsterdam? No, no.

I went around the globe,

picking up packages for the Fitzgeralds

like a frickin' bike messenger.

"Oh, could you take the plane to Rome...

to Ghana... pick something up for me?"

Sounds like fun.

What kind of stuff did you pick up?

Who knows?

Art, antiques.

It's usually wrapped up.

Look, I figure I'm better off not knowing,

and it looks like I was right.

What was your beef with Lori, the horse trainer?

I don't have one.

Oh, well, we got a stack of bloody paper towels

with your DNA on it that says you do.

I took them from her.

Hey, Lori,

dinner's ready.

You okay?

Yeah, the horse is just really freaked out.

Gave me a good one.

Would you mind taking these?

I got buzzed into the bedroom.

Mrs. Fitzgerald needed help with her zipper.

I threw the paper towels in the wastepaper basket.

That's a tidy little story.

You know, Jill's friends seemed like

they were brainwashed... or brain-dead.

And Moms was absentee at best, huh?

Well, teenagers are very suggestive.

If Toby was the best thing she had going,

it's the biggest influence in her life.

Yeah.

Don't even bother viewing those surveillance tapes.

No hospital's dispensed cisapride in over three years.

So that's it?

The kids just magically got the drugs

and offed themselves, end of story?

Not exactly.

The white substance

that you pulled from Romeo's blanket

and Juliet's dress... Yeah?

Denatured milk proteins and mucoid saliva.

Baby spittle.

There was a baby out there.

Not just any baby... their baby.

I pulled DNA.

Two halves make a whole.

Mom's credit card showed a suit purchase

in the Young Men's Department at JO Penney's.

Oh, yeah?

Looks like Moms is a personal shopper and chauffeur, huh?

Mom is busy.

Too busy to notice a baby, apparently.

(knocking on door)

Ma'am, we have a warrant to search the premises.

Cisapride and fentanyl...

you care to explain this?

My husband went through chemo, I told you that.

The fentanyl's for my back pain.

Why didn't you tell us that Jill and Toby

had access to these?

Jill, I'm going to lie down.

Go get me those pills for my back.

You didn't ask.

(baby gurgling)

(baby gurgling)

(baby gurlging)

(baby gurgling)

Hey.

Hi, baby.

Hi, little baby.

I'm this baby's only chance.

Lady, you are out of chances.

Watching people kill themselves

isn't against the law in Nevada.

I love you.

My baby.

That's it.

No, come on, let go.

(crying)

It's okay, it's okay.

It's okay, It's okay.

So you encouraged them to take the pills.

How much longer are you two going to ruin my life, huh?

How much longer?

And drove them

out to Death Valley after their last meal.

There's nothing like

a little positive reinforcement, is there?

They were beyond saving.

Wait, Mom, I changed my mind.

I don't want to die.

Mom! Mom!

Please don't leave me, Mom!

I think we can convince a jury

that you did more than just watch.

Not helping a child in danger is a misdemeanor.

You might as well write me a parking ticket.

We're going to write you up on murder,

and then I'm going to call Child Services.

Go ahead.

I am next of kin, and without a record,

I'm going to get her back in a second.

Miss...

Hey...

It's okay, it's okay.

It's all going to be better with Door Number Two.

That's right.

You think we even stand a chance?

No.

Hi... hey.

What have you got?

We got animal, mineral, and now vegetable.

What?

I ran the trace from the remainder of the diamonds.

Lentils and carrots.

Carrots on the karats.

I'm thinking Lori packed the diamonds.

After she fed the horse evidently.

There it is.

There you go.

She was the only one who got close to that horse.

So Dr. Stevens didn't have one partner,

he had two.

And Lori was the only one

who knew there was five packages,

which would explain why Stevens left one behind.

She was a victim, but she wasn't innocent.

(wry chuckle)

Okay, so, we've got a dead woman,

a dead horse, a runaway vet, and...

a couple million dollars worth

of uncut diamonds that are unaccounted for.

Well, diamonds are worthless unless you have a buyer.

What if the vet repackaged

the diamonds, took them with him.

PD traced him to the Caymans.

But why would he smuggle them into the country

only to smuggle them out again?

Flight steward's story checks out.

Lori Hutchins had an ante-mortem gash

on her right forearm.

Ski instructor...

massuese... geez.

Is there anyone not on Harper's payroll?

Well, you met her.

Would you be her friend for free?

What about Harper?

It was her plane, Meredith's horse.

She didn't care what happened to the horse.

Yeah, but she's got no reason to smuggle diamonds.

Reward's not worth the risk.

Rhone Kinsey-Confer.

Hey, what if we were thinking about this whole thing

a little too globally?

I'm going to find out

what Rhone's mother's maiden name is.

What's his mother got to do with it?

She may have sold me my engagement ring.

Hey, Brass, check out Kinsey Diamonds.

Find out if the owner is related to our concierge.

Sir, stop what you're doing.

Las Vegas Police. We have a search and seizure warrant

for any and all diamonds.

I bought those diamonds.

They're mine.

What are you doing?

Hey, Mrs. Kinsey,

did you ever stop and think that maybe your family discount

was a little too good to be true?

Did you really think your son mined those rocks himself?

Come on.

Think about it.

Yeah, someone else's plane, someone else's horse.

What a good plan.

Except you got caught.

Why even bother?

I mean, you had everything you wanted at your disposal?

Tantalus.

Stuck in Hell, forever staring

at the fruit just out of reach.

Except you couldn't do it without Lori.

My guess is her death was an accident.

Did she care more about the horse

than she did the diamonds?

Can't you give her a pill or something?

I'm taking the diamonds out.

No, you're not. We've come too far

to have this fall apart now.

It's not worth the horse's life.

Yeah, well, it is to me.

Prove it.

Would you mind taking off your shirt?

I don't want to.

Well, that's unfortunate, because...

your tax evasion allows us

to expand your warrant,

and your shirt...

that's just the beginning.

(sighs)

What are you looking for?

Evidence of a struggle.

Oh, and there it is.

High-powered pneumatic guns

don't need to be loaded to leave a mark.

(pneumatic gunshot)

(grunts)

(neighing)

(hooves thudding)

Freakin' pony lover.

"A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse."