All language subtitles for CSI.Crime.Scene.Investigation.s03e21.WEB-DL.720p

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."