Original subtitles

(screams)

Let's go, Let's go! Go! Go!

Move it! Let's go! Let's go!

Open it up!

You, don't look at me!

(panting)

I have to get out of here!

Any one of you moves a muscle, I'll blow you away.

Shut up, lady!

(whimpering) Oh, my God!

I got to get out of here!

(beeps)

(beeping)

(screaming)

Nobody move!

It's all right, honey. We'll be okay.

This can't be happening.

Don't turn around!

Come on, honey. Hey!

(screaming)

Nobody move!

You, down!

Get out of here. Go! Let's go!

Stay down! Go! Let's go!

Oh, God!

(alarm blaring)

Go! Go! Go!

(gunshots)

Hold your fire!

Where's it coming from?

I don't know.

(alarm continues)

(alarm fades)

(echoing) What a day to come back to work.

Coming?

(alarm grows louder)

(alarm stops)

This crew was in and out.

Three, maybe four guys, depending upon who you talk to.

Detective Lockwood drew his weapon,

protecting a woman and a child.

Wrong place, wrong time.

There is no right time to kill a cop.

I only see one bullet wound

through the back.

Yeah, witnesses say that he was, uh,

taken down with a single shot.

Beveled edges on the inside.

The shot came from outside.

We need to get a picture of this.

These guys were pros.

How much did they get?

According to the tellers,

they weren't interested in money.

What were they interested in?

(electricity crackling and hissing)

See the blast marks?

Charges were placed in corner quadrants.

Four boxes up,

five across.

The rest looks like collateral damage.

Whoever did this knew precisely what they were after.

Well, the one good thing about their precision...

it'll narrow our focus.

...I heard "officer down."

I didn't know it was...

I wonder what he was doing here.

He was supposed to be off duty.

He was only 34 years old.

All right, good. We're all here.

We've got a lot of work to do.

Grissom...

(normal audio) Grissom?

Sorry.

I was thinking.

Well, I was thinking

that we need to start processing this bank.

Right.

I'll take the safety deposit boxes.

Sara, you're with me.

Radio car's shot up pretty good.

I'll dig around in there.

I'll take the cameras.

They made sure we didn't have eyes.

Well, check the tape anyway.

I think we found the getaway vehicle.

Where?

Block from the off-ramp.

Coroner's en route.

The coroner?

The driver's dead.

(electricity crackling and hissing)

Electric blasting cap.

Brown leg wires feeding into the grommet.

Means they could've used O4.

Utah, New Mexico,

Colorado, and Arizona.

Four corners.

What does that tell us?

Whatever they were looking for was definitely in the center.

The Monroe Effect:

All force generated towards one central area.

How are we ever going to find out what's missing?

I just found the detonator.

I'll get it fumed.

What have you got?

Radio car traveled about 15 feet after being hit.

I followed the leakage back to its original position.

Two in the hood,

one in the windshield,

Lockwood.

High power, long range.

I'll take any part of those bullets.

Oh, God.

Near decapitation.

The wire is still around his neck.

The driver became

a liability after the heist.

No honor among thieves, I guess.

Tells us something about them.

Hey, why are we stopping here?

(grunting)

Your job is finished.

(tires squealing)

Lockwood was a good cop.

It's too bad.

(tape rewinding)

Grissom, I just talked to Hodges.

That black substance from the camera lens?

The FTIR spit back magnesium aluminum,

silicate, talc, methylparaben, and sunscreen.

All of these chemicals are consistent

with camouflage cream.

Black face paint.

My guess is the same stick

they used to cover up that camera lens,

they used to paint their faces with.

I just found an eyelash in it.

Gil.

Just coming to see you.

I pulled the bullet from Cyrus Lockwood.

Fully intact, well preserved.

Well, you didn't have to bring this over.

We could've picked it up.

I wanted to.

Every day I see people I don't know,

but I saw a lot of Lockwood, and I did get to know him.

I felt like I owed it to him.

Thanks, Doc. Yeah.

(computer beeping)

We got a bullet.

We got prints.

Getaway driver.

Larry Whiting.

29. He was convicted of assault

and drunk and disorderly five years ago.

Did some time.

Occupation:

Valet at the Rampart.

Isn't that one of Sam Braun's hotels?

Mm-hmm.

You have to have a non-gaming work card

to park cars at a Vegas casino.

How does a guy with a criminal record get one?

He doesn't.

Unless he was juiced in by Sam Braun.

Well, it is his hotel... it's his call, ultimately.

Yeah?

Well, it's our case, so it's our call.

Mmm. Check it out.

I may be compromised.

You know I have a personal relationship with the guy.

It'll be fine.

(distant siren wails)

(indistinct chatter)

(indistinct conversation)

I'm going to have to talk to H.R.

About this Larry Whiting.

Human Resources is never supposed to process

anyone with a record.

Well, his record caught up with him, Sam.

We suspect he was involved

in the First Monument Bank robbery.

Getaway driver... except everyone got away but him.

I have to tell you, Mugs, name doesn't ring a bell.

Sam...

(laughs)

That's like you telling me when I was a kid

that you were too tired to drive home every night

when you were sleeping with my mother.

Well, you can't fault a fellow

for wanting to be with his two best girls.

All right.

Where is all of this leading?

(inhales)

Well, last year,

one of your cocktail waitresses was murdered.

Still unsolved.

She worked at another one of my hotels...

the Whiskey Town.

And this Whiting guy worked here at the Rampart...

They're both your hotels...

How does that look for business?

Mugs, I got a P.R. Department that deals with that.

When one white tiger killed another one

in the Secret Garden at the Mirage,

the P.R. Department had it buried

on page 16E, under the car ads, about...

this big.

Right. They made it go away.

Some things are people's business...

some things aren't.

Well, this is my business.

It's not going to go away.

Then I'll be rooting for you.

Las Vegas Police.

Manager said he lived alone.

(distant siren wails)

If this getaway driver's

stupid enough to get whacked by his partners,

he's stupid enough to leave something behind.

This whole neighborhood's stupid.

Whew.

Whew.

Sixty grand a year

for jockeying cars?

I'm in the wrong line of work.

Well, look on the bright side: You're still alive.

Bedroom's a bust. What do you got?

I got two $5,000 stacks

from the Rampart.

Sam Braun's hotel.

Um, Lockwood's bullet on the right,

and the cop car bullet...

or what's left of that cop car bullet's on the left.

Both projectiles with 308s.

Consistent with the M1 A.

Long gun. Mm-hmm.

And long guns are only registered

to the person who makes the initial purchase...

and the serial numbers aren't recorded.

(sighs)

Impossible to trace, so it's a dead end.

Well, forensically, yeah, but not cognitively.

See, shooting someone from long range,

and taking out the engine of a radio car

while it is hauling ass...

You're looking at one sharp shooter.

And that kind of training only comes from...

The military.

Thank you!

We fall

Sign

A sign

We fall

Sign

A sign

We fall

Sign

A sign

Here I lie

Our questions answered

Fear inside

Is truth uncovered

While we fight

Sharing in the other...

(gunshots)

Wow.

Almost looks good as new.

Kind of.

This was the epitome

of precision.

The outer rim of boxes sustained the most damage

The intent was not to blow out the 23 surrounding boxes,

but to preserve the sanctity of the center box.

Box 729? It's history.

It's the only thing that's gone.

That's the box they were after.

And we still don't know what was inside.

(sighs)

What is up with this bank manager?

We've been waiting forever.

(echoing) Hey.

(muffled) How long have we known each other?

In days, months, or years?

I'm being serious here.

Can you hear me?

Sorry I'm late.

Been on the phone all night with corporate...

not to mention I had a gun in my face.

So you want to know the lessees

of some of our safe deposit boxes?

Oh, not some, just one.

Box 729.

Why don't you just hold up a touch?

I want to help you, but...

you're going to have to give me a court order.

Oh, no worries.

Box 729 lessee is Benny Murdock.

Benny Murdock?

You know him?

Yeah.

Benny.

He was my first doorman at the Whiskey Town.

A year later,

I made him a casino host at Pike's Gambling Hall.

Within six months, he had all the play

at the Tangiers.

(laughs) Six months.

Became my right arm when we opened the Rampart.

I never thought

I would outlive him.

He died a couple of weeks ago, right?

Brain aneurysm.

You never know when you're going to go.

All those memories...

Benny, we're going to have a great summer.

Cheers.

Did Larry Whiting... know Benny?

Everybody who was anybody knew Benny,

including you.

Informally.

Informally enough

for him to direct the high-end whales your way

when you were dancing.

(laughs) Ooh...

That is

old Vegas, Sam.

Sun set on that time.

I hear you and Benny had a little sunset of your own.

A falling out about six months ago.

Mr. Braun, it's "Bravado" regarding BJ 19.

If you will excuse me,

I have to take care of that.

Yeah?

(muffled and echoing) Raise the limit,

and change the cards.

If he wins three double downs

in a row, call me back.

We'll send "Mr. Happy."

I'm sorry. Where were we?

Benny.

Sorry. That's off limits...

but I was with him in the hospital

when he died.

We made our peace, if it's for the record.

You wouldn't happen to know

what he kept inside his safe deposit box,

would you?

You'll have to ask him.

Well, I wish we could.

If you'll excuse me,

someone is robbing me downstairs.

You know what "off the record" means,

don't you, Greg?

Yeah.

Good.

Albert,

got a minute?

Sure. What's up?

I'd like a second opinion.

Boy, I wish you'd come to me sooner.

Your condition's pretty far along.

Why did you wait?

(sighs)

I hoped it would go away.

Doesn't your mother

have this condition?

Yeah. It's hereditary.

I know.

I wasn't rational.

(laughs)

Look, Gil, I'm not going to preach to you.

You came to me, but... doctor to doctor...

there's a chance the bone deposits have spread

into the inner ear, in which case,

your hearing loss will eventually be permanent.

If I were you,

I'd schedule surgery as soon as possible.

You know the eyelash Warrick found

embedded in the black greasepaint...

I extracted the DNA, ran it.

CODIS gave me a, uh,

Mongolian beef.

I'm sorry. What does that mean?

That means he got nothing.

There, try these, big guy.

Training wheels.

Thanks.

Hey, guys, guys,

let's focus on the robbers.

Grissom?

What do you think?

I think we're giving these guys too much credit.

They're experts at robbing banks,

not experts at concealing evidence.

Well, unless the answer's in that fortune cookie,

what's the plan?

Do you ever wonder

how the fortune gets inside the cookie?

I know.

Of course you do.

The cookie comes out of a press, like a tortilla,

and then some lady puts the fortune

in the center of the dough,

and then folds the dough around a piece of metal,

and then folds it again.

That's the answer.

(beeping)

Robert Rubio.

Work card. Non-gaming.

He's in the hotel business.

Rampart.

Hey, didn't that other guy work at the...

Run him through the military database.

Why? Just run it.

After that, give us an address.

Clear!

Clear!

It's all clear, but something's burning out back.

Come on, let's see what's cooking.

Whoo!

Oh, well,

that is... one example

of the evidence going up in smoke.

This guy's a piece of work, huh?

(phone ringing)

(metal clanging)

One of the black coats, you think?

Box 729.

Fire-resistant.

It's some kind of fabric. Silk, maybe.

What do you make of that?

Out of context, I don't know.

Pink Panther.

Well, Clouseau,

how does blood get in a safe deposit box?

Maybe has something to do with this fabric.

Mr. Nine Volt, Rob Rubio...

ex-military, security expert.

Went to work for casino owner Sam Braun

when one of his soft count cronies got caught

skimming the skim,

so... all roads lead to Rome, except,

in this case... the Rampart.

(camera shutter clicking)

Triple homicide in the desert.

Old-time Vegas.

We found Tommy "The Aspirin" out here.

Remember him?

Used to make his boss's headaches disappear.

Until they made him disappear.

I think this is the origin of the word "termination."

There's the corporate way,

and the way of the gun.

High-powered rifle.

Close range.

Visible gunpowder.

(gunshot)

This guy got it in the chest, too.

(gunshot)

And this one took it in the back.

(gunshot)

This one's carrying a Glock.

Never got a chance to use it.

Well, all three

were carrying, so they're not tied up,

and they're still armed.

They didn't fly here.

Where's their car?

It's not a dump job.

Killer drove them here,

killed them, and drove away.

They knew their attacker.

Never let a man do a woman's job.

What do you mean?

They didn't get all their makeup off.

Where's he going?

Let's just hope

he stops.

Look familiar?

Bloodstain...

rainbow-colored thread...

safe deposit box.

Those guys are definitely the bank robbers.

Where's the fourth guy?

The guy who's rapidly becoming a mass murderer.

Rob Rubio.

Grissom, hey.

Grissom, hey, just tested the bullets

from your trio in the desert.

(muffled) Same GRCs as the bullet from Lockwood.

Fired from the same rifle.

Slow down, Bobby.

I'm sorry. I just got excited.

You don't get to see many.30-caliber rounds

used in crimes, but, uh...

(door banging open)

You rang?

Uh, yeah.

The, uh, blood flecks from the safe deposit box...

two distinct samples.

I only got one hit, though.

Uh, the primary sample belongs to Vivian Verona,

a cocktail waitress.

She was killed on the top floor

of the old Pike's Gambling Hall

about two years ago.

Here's the report.

Multiple puncture wounds,

different depths, possibly two knives...

I've pulled the crime scene photos for you, too.

Case is still pending.

Murder weapon was never found.

Now, the secondary blood sample came back N.D.

Uh, could be the killer.

You always say murder's messy.

Greg, your hands are shaking.

No, they're not.

Hold your hands out.

Uh...

they've been shaking ever since...

I can't really make it stop.

Is it affecting your work?

Well, if I was a bomb expert, maybe.

No, I...

I think I have it under control.

It'll stop.

If you need me, I'll be around.

Okay.

I have your scarf back from Sanders.

I need you to open this evidence bag

and cut me an identical piece of fabric.

You want me to replicate the blood pattern?

Yeah.

You guys need a hand?

Warrick, hand me those scissors.

Nick, give me that apple.

But I didn't get any lunch.

Give me the apple.

You're not supposed to eat in here.

Two puncture wounds, right?

Scissors.

That's what was wrapped in the scarf.

This'll just take a sec.

The computer's extrapolating based on that blood stain.

These don't look like your ordinary pair.

I mean, look at the blades.

They're almost double the size of the handles.

What's the purpose of scissors that long?

Murder.

I hear scissors, I hear murder. What did I miss?

We may have the murder weapon.

Hey, Vivian Verona

worked for Sam Braun. She was a cocktail waitress

at Pike's Gambling Hall.

She was murdered the night before it was imploded

in one of the penthouse suites.

Sounds like somebody wanted her

to disappear in the rubble.

Bet you Braun hired his own clean-up crew for that one.

The pyro guys found her on their

last walk-through.

They assigned a OSI,

but the case ran cold before it even got started.

There was no suspect and no motive.

Warrick,

enhance the blade area.

Hmm, let me see if I can flip it around

so we're not looking at an eye chart.

R-P-R-T.

Rampart.

He's not returning any of my phone calls.

I just need to confront this Sam Braun business

once and for all.

I'll drive.

I'm not going with you.

What do you mean?

I'm scheduled for surgery at Desert Palm.

Surgery?

Your hearing?

Yep.

I'm sorry.

I'm not. Has to be done.

What can I do?

Nothing. I'm fine.

Take care of the case.

Oh, eh, mm...

That's it?

That's it.

Um...

good luck.

You must really like the ham steak at the Primm.

One more mile north... you're gone forever.

They got good ham.

That's good to know.

I'll know what to get you for your last meal...

for killing a cop.

You know the rifle we found in your trunk?

The bullets match one we pulled out of a friend of mine...

Detective Cyrus Lockwood.

Tough losing one of your own.

You lost three of yours.

Ballistics made a match there, too.

So, you're ex-military.

That why Sam Braun hired you

to be head of security at the Rampart?

You asking me, or you telling me?

I'm telling you.

My guess is Sam needed a job done, he came to you.

You know, when I get out of here,

I'm going to take pleasure in putting air in your head.

Let me put a fact in yours:

You left a lot of yourself behind, killer.

(gunshots)

So, here's the deal:

You give up your boss,

you get to spend the rest of your life in a jail cell,

and not on death row.

I'll take death row.

I'll live longer.

Tangiers, Pike's Gambling Hall...

Where are the Rampart scissors, Sam?

I think they went to one of those silent auctions.

You know, the kind where you put a number down

and remain anonymous.

Uh-huh.

I'm sure they went to a good cause.

How much money do they make?

More than I anticipated.

I think that we're past playing games, Sam.

I need the truth.

You sure about that?

Oh, yeah.

Now more than ever.

Benny killed Vivian.

He caught her cheating on him...

with me.

(gasps)

When I heard he was dying, I went to see him.

He told me he killed her with my scissors

from the ribbon-cutting ceremony.

He always kept the scissors...

had them shadow-boxed for me.

He stashed them in the safe deposit box.

Why would Benny do that?

Why would Benny murder Vivian

and then keep the incriminating evidence,

not even attempt to wash off the blood?

You're asking me to answer on his behalf?

I don't know.

Maybe he was paranoid.

Figured you would drag Lake Mead.

Let me just get this straight.

To protect Benny after he's already dead,

you hire Rob Rubio

and three cronies to commit federal bank robbery

to steal back a pair of scissors?

They weren't just any pair of scissors.

They were tied to a legacy.

If Benny goes down, I go down.

40 years...

building a reputation... gone.

Games are meant

to be played downstairs, not upstairs...

so I ask Rob to take care of it.

We have the safe deposit box in our possession, Sam,

along with the bloodstained sash

the scissors were wrapped in.

We recovered two different blood samples...

one belonging to Vivian, and the other unknown.

I guess I didn't have a good enough reason until now, but...

I tested my DNA

against the unknown sample.

(sighs)

And wouldn't you know...

there were seven alleles in common.

That supposed to mean something?

It means that you and I are biologically related.

You killed her, Sam...

and Benny covered for you.

Part of the old double standard.

No woman that you're with

is ever going to be with another man.

I swear on your mother...

it didn't happen that way.

Oh, now, that holds a lot of weight.

To this day my mother still sits at home waiting for your call.

Do you really think I could murder someone?

Science...

tells me that you did.

So, yes, I do.

It's just such a lousy way to find out that you're my father.

They're prepping the room now, Mr. Grissom.

I'll be right back for you.

Dr. Lieberman to Nurses' Station.

Dr. Lieberman to Nurses' Station.

Hey.

What are you doing here?

I just wanted to see you.

And I didn't want you to go in without wishing you good luck.

Thank you...

for being here.

I don't need that.