All language subtitles for CSI - 2x19 - Stalker.en

(phone ringing)

(ringing)

MAN:
No one is available.

Please leave a message.

(beep)

MAN:
Jane, you there?

Pick up.

Okay... I'll call back later.

(sniffling)

(phone ringing)

(sobbing gasp)

MAN:
No one is available.

Please leave a message.

(beep)

MAN: Slut. You can't
hide from me, bitch.

Jane, you there?

Now, didn't I tell you...

not to bite your nails?!

(door opening softly)

(scratching softly)

(gasping
)

(whimpering softly)

Shoo, Peanut.

Go away. Go away.

(whimpering)

(screaming)

(screaming and crying)

Posed?

Reading my mind.

What do you make
of the smears?

It's definitely
not blood.

Wrong colour, texture.

It's hair dye.

Her hair's still wet.

You think the assailant surprised
her while she was dyeing her hair?

Who called it in?

Neighbour lady--
doing the dishes with her window open.

Heard the dog
yelping, evidently.

Called the cops.

There's no sign
of forced entry.

The bathroom window's
nailed shut.

So, has anyone
seen this dog?

Dog bed, dog bowl,
dog food; no dog.

Triple locks
on all the doors.

Every shade drawn.

State-of-the-art
alarm system.

Far as we know, her place was perfectly,
hermetically sealed

until the cops
batter- rammed their way in.

Prisoner in
her own home?

So, how did he get in?

A better question--
how did he get out?

Aluminium foil.

Keeps the
sunlight out.

Keeps the eyeballs out, too.

(gasping)

Sorry, Nick.

You've been staring
at this girl for ten minutes.

Do you know her?

No.

Why don't you
go do the bedroom?

I'll get the coroner
in here

and finish up
in the bathroom.

Sure.

Hey, Catherine,
I'll get that.

No. I got it.

Tweeze me.

Thank you.

So, what do you think?

A little thick
for a human hair.

No, I've seen
them this thick.

Really?
Yeah.

I'll get it to the lab.

Oh, and don't forget
what's under the bed.

Why? What's
under the bed?

Something that you would
have caught eventually...

Crime Stopper.

(chuckles)

- No one's going to let me live that one down, are they?
- No.

You know, now that
you're a celebrity,

you may want to think
about getting a new shirt.

Yeah? Well...

I'm short on options.

Besides, the dry cleaners
keeps losing my stuff.

What did you get?

Grocery bag

with a red smudge.

GRlSSOM:
Good. Fume it.

Tell Sara and Warrick
to grab a couple shovels and dig in, too.

(sighing)

(laughter)

MAN: Who wrote this?

You're kidding me, right?

"Nick Stokes,
Crime Stopper."

(both chuckling)

You went Hollywood
on me, man.

And I quote,
"In his off time

he enjoys creating
and inventing toys."

That's fascinating. What kind of toys
do you make, Nick?

I thought I got my hands on all
those departmental newsletters.

Where'd you get those?

Greg.
Greg.

Yeah, that figures.

All right, listen,
Griss wants us to divide and conquer.

Blond hair for you, Warrick.

I do love a blonde.

Sara,

you're on phone records.

Yay.

Hey, I wasn't done
reading that.

Yes, you are.
(chuckling)

I know two things for certain--

Jane Galloway died
from a lack of O2,

and she's
a natural blonde.

What are you looking
at me for?

Sorry.

So, what--

suffocation?

It certainly looks that way.

Uh, petechial haemorrhaging in the eyes,

deoxygenation led to cyanosis,
hence the blue lips...

blue fingertips

and blue face.

GRlSSOM: No ligature marks on her neck.

If she had struggled
with her assailant,

that effort alone could have
limited her oxygen intake,

causing further O2 depletion
of the brain.

Easy kill.

Sexual assault?

No physical findings.

You'll have
to check the kit.

So, he murders her,
poses her,

yet he doesn't rob her
or rape her.

So, what's his agenda?

How's that platinum blonde
coming?

- Wrong question. - Come on, Greg

I'm not getting
anything out of Trace.

I was hoping you
could help me out here.

I took a snip, ran a crossed
immuno-electrophoresis.

Didn't pass.

Not hair?
Not human?

What are you reading?

This is Pink.

Pink, this is Warrick.

Do you know how hot you are?

Ssss!

Bet I know someone
who's hotter,

and I'm not talking
about looks.

Yeah?
Yeah.

How mad is he?

Watch your back.

Heard you were
looking for me?

Greg. Come here. I want to talk
to you for a sec.

- Come on. - What's up?

Stop invading my privacy, man.
I don't like it.

I'm just trying
to do my job around here.

I don't need
the extra attention.

Okay. But, I mean, you are the one
who's doing the "Forensic Spotlight"

in the department
newsletter.

I didn't
do anything, man.

Someone from the community
wrote a letter of commendation.

Public Affairs
ran it. Cool?

Cool.

(sighing)

So, uh... what
are you fuming?

Plastic bag
from the crime scene.

Trying to get lucky--

see if I can get
some prints off it.

She die
of suffocation?

(screaming)

BRASS:
Did some digging on Jane Galloway.

Her boyfriend had
a TRO against him.

And, according
to his phone records,

the guy called Jane 13 times
the day of the murder.

That's 13 times
too many,

according to the
restraining order.

- We're going to
check out his house. - I'll be on my cell.

Grissom,
you got a second?

I got a mystery.

- GRlSSOM:
No Becker Line. - Yeah.

Hair refracts light
under cross-polarization, but glass doesn't.

Well, it's not a hair. It's a synthetic fibre.

Glass-- what do you
think, fibreglass?

Maybe.

This could be
a lot of things.

You'll figure it out.

(pounding on door)

Looks like the boyfriend
skipped out on us.

(sighing)

Hey, Brass?

Isn't that his car?

Control, this is P
- 9241 requesting backup and medical assistance,

the 1800 block of Newhaven Road.

Possible 419.

DlSPATCHER:
P-9241, copy.

(gasping)

BRASS: All right, all right.

Get out of the car.
Get out of the car.

Sit down
on the ground.

Sit down,
sit down.

Sit down;
just sit.

Sir, are you okay?

You all right? You seem injured.

No, I'm all right.

- Are you Adam Piorio? - Yes.

Any idea how you got this blood?

I don't remember.

We're going
to take you to a place

to help you
remember.

Let's start again.

What happened last night?

I'm telling you,
I don't know.

Adam, we're analyzing the blood that we found
on your shirt with the blood of your girlfriend.

It's going to tell us
everything that we want to know.

Look, we broke up
a few weeks ago. She...

She started acting
weird for no reason.

She had a TRO against you.

Something must have happened
to spook her.

She changed overnight.

She... she wouldn't return
any of my phone calls.

She started calling
in sick at work.

Barricading herself
in her own house.

So, you went to Jane's
house. What next?

We started arguing.

Open this door. What do you mean I
can't come within 1,000 feet of you?

Open the door.
Stay away from me!

I was afraid she was going
to call the cops, so I-I left.

SlDLE:
Well, that's interesting.

Because, according to her phone
records, she never did...

call the cops.

BRASS: But you called her 13 times.

Once, you're in love. Twice, you're

More than three,
you're a stalker.

We just broke up.

All right, I was...
I was rolling on "E" last night.

Give me a break.

Adam, that's not all
you were taking last night.

I was on a lot of stuff
last night. I was a space cadet.

I'm not a murderer.

Blood doesn't match our victim.

The girlfriend
of a Ricco Manzo filed the police report last

It seems that Adam, here,
put Ricco in the hospital with a broken nose

from a fight
at Bar 911.

BRASS: Well, that's a lucky alibi.

Roll him out of here.

You have mail.

Horn dog?

There's a blast from the past.

What did your prom date say
when you called her?

She said that she was
cleaning out the attic one day,

stumbled upon them,

thought she'd send
them to me for a laugh.

You think she's a suspect?

No. She lives
in Bosnia, man.

Maine or something.

She's got three kids.

What's she going to do,
fly in for murder?

(chuckles)

Stranger things have happened.

I don't know.

Something in my gut
tells me it isn't right.

- Hey, what if somebody from work tapped

Yeah. Maybe I forgot
to log off one day.

Now you're tripping.

No. I'm serious.

Somebody had to have read my e
- mail.

Change your password.

I already did.

How does this relate
to the case?

Well, he was an eyewitness,
sort of.

I mean, he says he had a vision
of Jane Galloway's murder

hours before it happened.

He's a psychic?

Well, he has details.

He has details
that weren't on the news or the press

Mr. Pearson.

Sit down.

Captain Brass
tells me that, uh...

you had some
sort of "vision"

regarding Jane
Galloway's murder.

Yes, I did.

What kind of vision?

Screaming face
in a plastic womb.

Blood shower.

Anything else?

Three hearts beating very fast.

Two large, one small.

(screaming)

(dog barking)

GRlSSOM:
Okay.

Thank you.

This is your
eyewitness?

The dog didn't
make it, did it?

What about Jane's
work history?

Secretary
at a brokerage firm.

About three weeks
from the day of her death,

she took a leave of absence.

Medical records?

She saw Dr. Slater.

Had a prescription
for Valium and Librium.

Severe anxiety due
to personal reasons.

One day back from leave,
Jane quits her job.

No notice.

Hotel receipts show

she checked into the Monaco
for two nights.

A week before that,

she goes on a frightened woman
shopping spree.

Hardware shop receipts
for locks.

Locksmiths. Alarm installations.

Phone screeners.

The voice on her
answering machine-- electronic.

She changes her telephone number. She
cancels all but one of her credit cards.

It's as if she's trying
to make herself disappear.

Make no mistake. Jane Galloway was

Emotional terrorism
at its finest.

And her boyfriend had an alibi?

Here's the, uh... worst part.

Uh... I ran a phone check

on all her
incoming calls.

Guess where
they were coming from.

lnside her house.

BRASS:
So I ran Merlin's, uh... credit card

with his
permission.

Do you know where he was
the night of the murder?

Monaco Hotel.

Room 834.

Guess who was in
the adjoining room?

Jane Galloway.

Why didn't you tell us
you were staying here?

I didn't know
she was your victim.

According
to the front desk.

you placed a call to Jane
Galloway's room at, uh...

9:12 p.m.?
Lasting 21 seconds?

- May I ask what you two
were talking about? - Energy.

(phone rings)

(gasps)

- Hello? - I'm calling from the next room.

I don't mean to alarm you,

but I'm feeling some negative
energy coming from your room.

Sh... she wouldn't talk to me.
I... I get that a lot.

But, evidently,
you called her back.

Yes. She picked up,
and hung up.

Phone records say that
she received three calls.

Twice, I believe.

The front desk records also show
that she checked out that night.

And you checked out
shortly thereafter. Why?

Well, she was suffering,
and I shared her fear.

Seems my intuition was accurate,
as it turns out.

(sighs)

You don't believe me, do you?

Mr. Pearson,
I'm a scientist.

And I am a clairvoyant.

You see science
without abstractions.

I see visions with abstractions.

Am I less credible than you, Mr. Grissom?

These visions that you've had
in the past...

nothing specific triggered them?

Sometimes a touch or an object.

- Fear? - Sure.

And you were hoping to heal
Jane Galloway?

I was only hoping
to comfort her.

I'm bound by that obligation.

So, these visions you
told us about earlier?

These are the only ones
you've experienced?

I have more.

(inhaling)

Locks.

Three locks.

Hanging... ghosts,
hanging ghosts.

Chest to back, back to chest.

A-frames, wooden beams,

church dark.

(sighs)

That's it.

Are these the three locks
you saw?

Yeah... they-they seem
different, though.

Perhaps it's the angle.

What do you mean?

It seemed...
I was looking down on them.

Is this what you saw? Yes.

Only it was...

>From above.

(cell phone ringing)

- Hello. - GRlSSOM:
Pick a number between two and five

and indicate it
with your fingers.

Why?

Please, humour me.

Four. Thank you.

Where are you?

Look up.

Jane's bedroom closet
has a door to the attic.

(phone rings)

- Warrick. - Warrick, Grissom.

You know that blond fibre
we were looking at?

Fibreglass insulation--
comes in pink and yellow.

But you already knew that.

Is that why you're calling?

Not really.
I was checking a phone line.

But good work.

Yeah.

(grunts)

GRlSSOM:
Guess what. He tapped into her second

And he's got a peephole
into every room.

They're labelled.

Uh... Gil, there's a, uh...

Yeah. He's our psychic-- Mr. Pearson.

Right.

You know, I don't
think this thing was about sex at all.

I think it was about control--
voyeurism.

Jane was like his,
uh... little goldfish.

Then why kill her?

And why... leave all this stuff behind?

Interesting collection of toys.

Digital camera...

with a fibre-optic lens.

Night-vision goggles.

Digital recorder.

I'm guessing he's got
microphones all over the house.

Probably.

(sighs)

Same question--
how did he get in?

Well, this only opens
from the inside.

So, at some point,

it's possible that Jane
let him in.

Thank you.

So...

Who do we let into
our homes every day?

Well, pretty much, if
you got a uniform on,

you can walk right in
the front door.

So, we go through
her bills,

and we see which utility companies
worked on her house.

Hi, there.

Luna Cable.

Good company. Same as mine.

150 channels.

I'm telling you,
you got to get it, man.

The last three weeks have been heaven.

(knocking)

Mr. Crane?

Nick Stokes,
Criminalistics.

(
cell phone rings)

Hello.

Hello? I...
I can't hear you.

Hold on.

Mr. Crane, your door's open.

Just want to...

ask you a couple questions.

WARRlCK:
I can hardly hear you.

We're at the, uh...
satellite guy's house that installed Jane's

(rustling)

Nick!

Patrol.
Request immediate backup.

lmmediate backup.
Officer down

I need emergency medical assistance,
826 Harris Lane! Nick!

Nick.

Concussion,

two cracked ribs,

sprained wrist,
five stitches to the forehead.

It could have been a lot worse.

- But he's going
to be all right? - He needs rest.

But I don't see
why he can't go home relatively soon.

Thank you, Doctor.

Damn it.

Grissom, this guy
was right there. I could have had him.

You helped out Nick.

That was the right thing to do.

Doesn't feel
like the right thing.

WlLLOWS: You know, Nick was alone.

The stalker could have
killed him and didn't.

Yeah, I wonder why.

Let's go back
over there.

I'm going
with you.

No, no.

You need to calm down a little.

Talk to Nick when he wakes up.

GRlSSOM:
Nigel Crane, age 37. No criminal record.

Working for Luna Cable
for 11 years.

No immediate family,
lives alone.

Last seen by co-workers
two days ago.

No priors.

Not a stick of furniture...

except for a computer
and a chair.

(gasping)

What the hell?!

He lives up there.

Not down here.

Works, sleeps, changes his clothes...
everything in the attic.

He looks down
on the world,

separating himself
from others.

Fascinating, really.

Well...

you're going to love this.

Red dye.

Yep.

Now what?

Dinner and a movie?

CRANE:
Walking pukes.

Soulless, lost, useless,
sick puppets.

Little sheep
looking for direction.

Gullible.

>From an airplane,
they used to look like ants.

And now...

they're all ants
all the time.

You squash one.

WlLLOWS:
Well.

Just think,
this is only tape one.

They all start running around
in a panic.

DOCTOR: Now, these painkillers
are the real deal, okay?

Don't overdo it.

Plenty of rest.

No work for
at least a week.

SlDLE: Will do. Thank you, Doctor.

NlCK:
The gloves-- you find them?

Catherine thinks
he might have got away with them.

But, uh... Grissom did find
some wacky video collection.

- Of what? - Now, did you not
just hear the doctor?

You're supposed to rest. We're on it, okay?

Yeah, relax, Ironside.

CRANE:
I see you, Jane.

Do you feel me?

Do you feel me?

(tape whirs forward)

You...

You will never get me.

No. Not the way he does.

And we all get what we deserve.

I got a friend.

And I...

How's it going?

How's Nick doing?

Well, groggy.

How's the epic?

- Epic. - Gotten any clues as to where
this guy might be?

Not really. Not yet.

Archie, freeze it.

Do you see that
behind him?

To the left hand
of the screen?

Can you focus the pixels?

(typing)

Okay, we're now
at 26 times magnification.

Rendering
at 1086 lines.

That's the Crime Stopper article.

GRlSSOM:
Isn't our newsletter

for in-house only?

Do you think he knows Nick?

He may know him well enough
to read his e-mail.

Found that photo
of Nick and his prom date.

Used Jane Galloway
to emulate the photo?

GRlSSOM:
Why would he do that?

Why Nick?

Nick has satellite cable, right?

Lunar Cable-- 150 channels.

Wait a minute. We've been doing this
the wrong way.

We need to see the last tape.

(shuffling tapes)

Archie, play this.

It's like he... he's...

he's the kind of guy
I always wanted to, um... to be.

And that's why it's
so great, because...

we're friends now.

I feel like I can count on him,
you know?

And you know what?

I think,
if it came right down to it,

he would lay his life down
for me.

Ask him.

A... a... ask... ask Nick.

Nick,

would you let me
stop your heart?

(knocking at door)

Who is it?

My name is Pearson.
Morris Pearson.

We haven't met. I worked with Mr.
Grissom on the Jane Galloway case.

It's almost 1:00 in the morning.

- What do you want? - I've had more

Please let me in.

Yeah, maybe but look...
Please, please let me in.

I can't just let you in my...
Please, please, please...

Hey, hold up.
I saw this house.

I saw this house,
I saw the number,

I saw the street name.

Something
is wrong here.

Something terrible
is going to happen here

Sir...
I can feel it.

You're going
to have to leave.

Please, please,
listen to me.

Get out of here.
Listen to me!

I saw the address.

I saw this
address.

You saw my address?

Yeah, but that's not it.
That's not it.

I saw, I saw...

I saw crashing.

I saw...

falling and
crashing-- I saw

somebody seeing
through the back of his head.

I don't know, I don't know,
I don't know...

Green tea.

Green tea.

Does that mean anything to you?
Green tea?

I don't know.

(phone rings)

Just...

Hello.

- GRlSSOM: Nick, listen. He's been in your house.
- Who?

Nigel Crane-- the stalker.

Brass is one his way with two uniforms
to put at your door.

Yeah, well, I'm not alone.

What?

Your psychic's here.

Good. Keep him there.

Mr. Pearson.

(gun cocking)

Mr. Pearson.

Mr. Pearson...

you back here?

(thumping)

(footsteps)

(coughing)

Oh, man. You got to...

You got to watch
who you let in here.

Guy was snooping around
all over the place.

You know, smart move.

Spare gun.

Ah.

Keep it right
by the phone, right?

Right next to your address book
and... and take-out menus.

Cops are on their way.

Yeah.

I heard that.

You wearing my clothes?

Oh, yeah.

I am.

(deep exhale)

You know, I-I-I picked
these up at the dry cleaners,

and I... I hope you
don't mind.

It's just that...
I'm sorry.

I, I just get a little confused

about what's yours
and what's mine.

You know what?

I'm a little confused
here myself.

Uh... why don't you
refresh my memory?

When did we meet?

Sports package.

150 channels.

I-I-I even threw in
a few movie channels. Free.

We talked, like, forever.

I mean, it's like
I knew you my entire life.

- You installed my cable. - Yeah.

The... the minute
I met you, I knew we connected.

Because you told me
what you did,

and I knew exactly

what you were talking
about, because...

that's what I do.

I do it, too.

You know, I observe people.

I-I-I notice everything
about them. I watch them.

All the time.

Like you watched
Jane Galloway?

Jane was cool.

But, um... it would have never worked out
between us, you know. Never.

I mean, she had
a boyfriend,

and she was
kind of stuck up.

And you know what? She would have
totally, totally gotten between us.

So, you know,
consider that a gift.

- A gift? - Yeah.

Prom night.

Your date.

Melissa.

Bent over the toilet,
puking her guts out.

Is that ringing any bells, huh?

Yeah.

You know, I mean,
Jane's hair

was the wrong colour
but, you know,

obviously, I fixed that.

Because I know how much
you love redheads.

You know, you...

You mentioned her name
in your sleep.

You watch me sleep?

You, um...

You want to open him up?

Hmm?

No, no,
it's, uh... It's not my job.

You should know that.

It's the coroner's gig.

- Are you humouring me, Nick? - No.

You know...

We made friends that day

and, every time since,

you just blew me off.

Do you know that?

You just completely blanked me.

You are so self-absorbed.

I was right in front
of your face.

Manners, Nick!

Manners!

Now, Nigel, now,
we got a DB here, huh?

You're going to help me with
the crime scene, right?

No, no. I'm going to...

I'm going to give you
a brand-new one.

I'm going to do
better than that.

I'm going to give you
the best you ever had.

Stand up, Nick.

Stand up.

Nick, you know what
a nine- millimetre slug

does to a skull at close range?

You know?

Yeah. Blow it right apart, right?

Brains like
strawberry swirled.

Whipped cream everywhere. And you...

You'd have to scoop
that stuff up, right?

Yeah, little pieces of
skull and bone and brains,

all in individual baggies with
the victim's name on the label.

You know, I don't want
to disappoint you, Nigel,

but this isn't the first time
I've had a gun in my face.

How do you want
this to end, Nigel?

How do I want this to end?

I want you to be able
to remember my name.

(grunting and gunshots)

Gun!

Get down! Get down!

Put him down.

Cuff him.

Hey.

( breathing heavy )

It's... it's done.

All right, yeah.

Why me?

I don't think
it was about you, Nick.

Or Jane Galloway,
for that matter.

I think it was more about
Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs.

His premise is that social
beings strive to belong.

In Nigel's mind,

Jane Galloway was
someone he could control,

which was okay
for a while,

but you...

you were someone he
could actually become.

See, Maslow's fifth tier of the
Hierarchy is Self-Actualization.

I am one, and who am I?

The problem for Nigel
is that you would

have to die in order
for that to happen.

Or else he would.

25 years to life, Nick.

It's over.

It's not over for me.

It's over for Jane Galloway.

Well, we should
get back to the lab.

GRlSSOM:
Yeah.