All language subtitles for CSI 3x14 - One Hit Wonder.EN

Well, he never touched
the first girl.

The bedroom door
was blocked.

What do you mean,
"blocked"?

With a treadmill.

Now, we got two apartments here:
1213 and 1214.

We think the girl in 1214
has physical findings.

You think?

Well, she locked herself
in her bedroom,

won't let anyone
with a Y chromosome

within 50 feet of her.

Okay.

That's the lucky one.

Hey, guys.

Catherine Willows

from OSI.

Could you all clear
the residence, please?

I'm first officer, ma'am.

I can't leave
the crime scene

unless I get orders
from my OO.

The victim's well-being takes
precedence over everything.

Right now, this
is Joanne Crooks' apartment,

not our crime scene.

So... there's the door.

All right, come on.

Thanks. Thank you.

Appreciate it.

Doreen Bainbridge
locks her doors every night.

Says the girl next door
does the same.

It's a twist lock.

It allows
for five inches
of night air.

It's very secure...

unless you reach in...

Three seconds.

Crime of
opportunity, huh?

Yeah...

...except somebody was watching
this girl.

(knocking)

Joanne...

all the guys have left.

It's just me.

I'd like to ask...

I told you guys, I don't know
what he looked like, okay?

It was pitch black.

Well, I'm not a cop;
I'm with the crime lab.

I'd, uh, I'd like
to process the
bed sheets...

I don't think so.

Well, would you allow me
to take samples from you?

Sorry.

Look, I know this
is really horrible.

I want to get
the bastard off of me, okay?

Off of my things.

Don't you get that?

Washing away evidence
hurts any chance

of finding out who raped you.

He didn't rape me, okay?

I woke up and he
was on my chest.

Look at this.

It's not hair gel.

If you let me recover
that evidence,

we can stop him
from doing this
to somebody else.

Maybe I'm selfish.

I don't know;
I don't really care

about anybody else right now.

Well, then let's get him
for what he did to you.

(camera shutter clicks)

Hey, Grissom.

Got what looks
like a semen stain.

It's crusted,
it's not fresh.

Still, it confirms
your theory

that he's been watching her
for awhile.

Hey...

He's been watching
a lot of people.

Well, there are hedges

outside of every one of these
apartment windows...

that's built-in concealment.

Yeah, this guy was having

his own little
private peep show.

I...

(scoffs)

Last, I would like
to thank you

for working late
into the night.

During this trial,

you have heard people portray
the defendant

in glowing terms.

He may be all of these things.

He certainly seems likable.

That doesn't change the fact

that he got behind the wheel
of his car legally drunk,

and drove through
an intersection,

killing Shelley Daniels,
a 12-year-old child.

When you go
into that jury room,

I ask that you seek justice

and return with a verdict
of guilty.

Not for me,
not for His Honor,

not even
for Shelly Daniels.

I ask because justice itself
demands it.

Justice is greater
than our personal feelings.

Than... revenge,
than... than pity.

Do not shrink,
do not disappoint,
but rather...

embrace it.

Thank you.

The jury may retire
to the jury room.

I'll advise counsel
when the jury has
reached a verdict.

Where do I sign up?

I wish you could.

I'm sorry. Thank you
for coming on such
short notice.

Your message said
it was important.

Yes,
People v. Archer.

Trial's on deck this Thursday.

I prepped all weekend.

It should be
a slam dunk.

Great.

I've handed the case over
to another D.A., Greg Rubio.

What?

He's quick on forensics,
he's great on game day.

Melissa, we've been building
this case together

for six months.

What's going on?

I'll be dead.

I never felt comfortable
asking you about your, uh...

My wheels?

I mean, I know somebody
broke into your house

shot you
and your husband.

Made me a widow,
left me a souvenir.

At the time, um...

the doctors said
if they removed it, I'd die.

But in the last few years,
the bullet has meandered.

Last week, my voice
gives out during a cross.

I have trouble
swallowing.

Hand starts to shake.

My neuro calls it "traumatic
basilar artery aneurysm."

Um, he has to "clip" the artery.

Well, if they're fixing
the artery, that's good.

The operation's delicate.

The odds are... low.

I've really enjoyed
working with you, Sara.

Greg...

get anywhere
with the semen

I recovered
from Joanne Crooks' hair?

I sent it back
with an officer.

Uh, low volume,
no sperm.

That's impossible.

Yeah, I knew you'd say that.

Oh, the trailer
before the movie.

Sorry.

Oh, hey, Grissom,
thanks for the lift.

(soft, distorted)
Grissom, uh...

Grissom?

That must be some
good evidence.

You have evidence?

(distortion continues)
No.

It turns out

that the semen in the vic's hair

was pre-ejaculate,
which, of course,

(louder and clearer)
Carries no sperm,
therefore, no DNA.

(normal voice)
So, I got

this poor woman's hopes up
for nothing.

How about you?

I went back
to the crime stats...

pulled up all the reported
Peeping Toms

in a two-block radius
over the last year.

Unsolved...

Any of these women
get a description?

He had "raccoon eyes."

And that's
about it.

Plus, nobody called in
any follow-up reports.

Well, I guess half the problem's
the name..."Peeping Tom."

It just sounds so innocuous

when, in fact, peeping
is the first step

in the evolution
of a sexual predator.

And I'm afraid our Tom
is on an escalated pace.

Tonight was his first
breaking and entering

with an immediate second B&E,
plus what appears to be

his first
sexual assault.

Well, we know what road
this guy's on.

It's just a matter of time
before he rapes and murders.

Yeah... we better find him.

Victims' profile:
Both women are single, under 30,

live right next door
to each other in a large

apartment complex.

Have we had any luck
on cross-referencing

any of the guys in their lives?

Uh, no crossover so far.

Doreen Bainbridge
works in the corporate field

and Joanne Crooks is a dancer,

so feels like completely
different social circles.

But they're in
the predator's comfort zone

which means he probably
lives in the area, too.

What else?

We're still working on
some shoe prints

but the plaster's still wet.

Blow dry it.

It'll give us approximate height
and shoe size.

Yeah, and the semen sample
I recovered

is still being
processed in DNA.
Not anymore.

I'm done.

And no jokes about me being fast

in this department.

The ejaculate outside
the first girl's window...

Spank high?
Good news:

It does have DNA.

Whose?
I don't know.

Ran it through OODIS,
nothing kicked out.

Well, it's possible
this guy's so new

he doesn't even have a record.

Well, I can tell you
this about him:

Really low sperm count.

Sample hardly had
any swimmers.

That's probably from
excessive masturbation.

Guy's been outpacing his
ability to produce sperm.

Yeah, you'd know it, Spanky.

It's just a hunch.

Hey, that can happen
to any guy.

Yeah, not outside
some poor woman's

bedroom window.

All right,
let's keep after it.

This guy won't stop
till he's caught.

Hey, Doc.

You got a minute?

Sure, just finishing.

Some people actually do
die of natural causes

in Vegas you know.
So I hear.

So what's on your mind?

Um... a friend of mine's
going in for surgery.

Traumatic basilar
artery aneurysm.

You, uh, mind
walking me through it?

It's a rough procedure.

The basilar is the chief blood
supplier to the brain stem.

Here, I'll show you.

They put the patient
under hypothermic arrest,

meaning the heart
will be stopped

and blood artificially
circulated.

The objective is
to decrease blood pressure

so the aneurysm can be clipped.

Imagine taking a
knife to a balloon.

(beeping)

The neurosurgeon
has just under an hour.

One slip, the artery ruptures

causing a catastrophic
brain hemorrhage.

She said she was going to die.

Nine out of ten times, Sara.

I'm sure her doctor told her.

Thanks.

Excuse me, do you know
where I can find Dr. Stewart?

Right there.
Thanks.

Dr. Stewart.
Sara Sidle.

I'm a friend of
Melissa Winters.

She pulled through.
No change to mobility
She did?

But cognitively,
she'll be sharp as ever.

Not quite ready to
entertain visitors

but you can
drop by tomorrow.

Thanks. Thank you.
Okay.

Hey, Doc.

Yeah?
When you were in there

did you, by any chance,
remove the bullet?

Yeah, after I repaired
the artery

I figured it couldn't do any
more damage than it already has.

You think I could have it?

I'm, uh...

I'm with the Crime Lab.

It's the only evidence
in a cold case.

Yeah. Wait here and
I'll have it sent out.

(whirring)

Hey, how's it coming?

Good.

Looks like I got a size eight.

Check back with me,
I should have more
in a bit.

All right.

Hey, Jacqui.

Grissom's print
any good?

The deposition
pressure's heavy.

The guy was really
pressing hard on that window.

With one hand, anyway.

Okay, well, that's a lot
of distortion.
Yeah.

Platform ridges
of the latent print

were affected by
the shift of the core

away from the triradius.

So can you enhance the ridges

equal to the amount
of the slippage?

Mm-hmm. With the help
of this software.

Now let's hope this guy's
in one of our databases.

Well, I'd run APIS last.

I doubt if he's in there;
he wasn't in OODIS.

No criminal record?

We're dealing with a newbie,
a teenager.

It's kind of looking like that.

Non-gaming card.

He's a pool boy at the Tangiers.

Oh, and look at that.

He lives one block
from the crime scene.

Thanks, Jacqui.
Mm-hmm.

Hey.

Hey.

So the owner of
the pool company says

he spends his lunch hour
here every day.

Well, that's what
he looks like.

Okay.

I'll be this way.

Jim.

There, that's him.

Yeah, how can you miss him?
Kid's pitching a tent.

Justin Lamond?

Yeah?
Come with me,
Justin.

Hey...

nice fanny pack.

I mean, I'm a
wallet guy myself,
but I can change.

Mind if I take
a look at yours?

I'm not doing anything.

Pack's a camouflage.

And check out the tip
of his right shoe.

It's a spy camera.

What, you can't peep in
apartments during the day

so you come to the mall
to sneak some thrills?

I don't know what
you're talking about.
I'm late for work.

No, your lunch hour
just got very long.

Put him in the car.

Heck of a lot of tissue
attached.

Let me guess... this has been
in your victim for a while.

Three years.

Prosecutor friend of mine
walked in to find

a guy shooting her husband,

then he turned the gun on her.

She just had it
surgically removed.

The human body's amazing.
Three years.

Tissue forms around

the bullet protecting the body

from the leaching of the lead.

Hang on a second.

You get approval from Grissom?

I don't want him
walking in on me.

Yeah.

Sara Sidle...?

Yeah, I did.

All right, just checking.

Let's go.

Enzymatic detergent
ought to clean
this baby up.

(fizzing)

Uh...

Still stained.

All righty...

time to get serious.

(low buzzing)

Hey, hey, careful
with that bullet,
it's my only evidence.

Thought you said the
husband got shot, too.

It was a through
and through.

The bullet decimated upon
impact with the couch...

with the couch frame.

Hey...

Hey, clean as a whistle.

We're good to go.

I'll run it through IBIS.

Thank you.

Page me?

Yeah, sure thing.

(door closes)

How long you been doing this...

videotaping women
without their knowledge?

It's only breaking the law
if you record their voices.

Ooh, he's a smart kid, huh?

Oh, come on...

look at the girls
out there.

They wear see-through tops,
short skirts,

bellies all on show.

They so much want it.

So I catch
some money shots.

Well, let's look
at the young Kubrick's

money shots, shall we?

You guys are looking at me
like I'm some scab.

I don't do toilets, fat chicks,
blue veins, crush stuff.

Just low-tech voyeur.

That's reassuring.

Do you know
Doreen Bainbridge?

No.

We found your fingerprints
on her window.

And also a little
love graffiti

on the wall outside.

I spy, I don't engage.

Well, remind me
to give you a medal.

Stand up.

Step down.

Both feet.

It's not a match.

You got to be
kidding me.

It's three-sizes differential.

He was obviously outside
Doreen's apartment,

but he's not our guy.

He's my guy.

Justin Lamond...

sexually
motivated offense,
indecent exposure,

gross lewdness.
Let's go to booking.

Try to keep it on ice.

What's up?

Hey, this cast that I
poured into the shoe print

that I found outside that
victim's bedroom window...

Yeah.

Pulled off some trace
materials from it.

It's like a yellow substance.
It may be paint.

Take a look and tell me
what you think.

Yeah.

With glass.

Reflective glass.

Yeah, I'm thinking maybe
road paint...

crosswalk...
lane markings maybe.

So our suspect stepped in
wet maintenance paint.

And that stuff
dries pretty fast.

So he must've stepped in it
on his way to the scene.

Which could tell us what
direction he's coming from.

Let me call my guy in
the Department of Transpo.

All right.

You still charting
recent Toms?

Architecture.

He has a type.

All these buildings
that recently reported
Peeping Toms...

got floor plans from
the management company.

A: Second story, three bedroom.

B: Ground floor, two bedrooms,
center lots.

O: O-plans are all one bedroom
on the end.

Cheapest rent,
highest foot traffic

easiest to break in.

He's a O-level man.

Yeah.

And every apartment has
sliding doors and windows.

Not one sash, not one French.

And he gets there on foot,
from east of Avon.

You found his epicenter?

Closing in on it.

The city painted
double yellows

down Taylor Road last night.

Started at 10:00 at Avon Avenue.

The paint crew goes
three miles an hour.

That puts them
at Taylor and Cedar...

the victims' apartments... at
approximately 20 after 10:00,

just before the attacks.

Predators usually widen
their comfort zone

in a spiral pattern outward.

My God, look at all
the O-level apartments.

P.D.'s going to have
to triple their presence.

Quadruple it.

He hit two apartments
in one night.

He's become compulsive.

Predators get smarter
with every attack.

It's been in the news.

He may be wearing gloves
this time.

Yeah, he's evolving...

perfecting.

(phone ringing)

AV Lab. Grissom.

Your sexual assailant
moved up to rape.

Would you be exact, please?

490 Kildare Road.

Get here as soon as you can.

Thank you.

Aren't you coming?

You can handle it.

High-profile case,
technicalities...

That can't be why
you do this,

why you hang back
and hide out.

You look better
on camera.

Right.

I didn't think so.

(thunder roaring)

(garbled radio transmissions)

So where's Grissom?

Supervising.

So I'm listening to news
radio on the way over here,

they're calling him
the sliding-door rapist.

Well, we got Susie Spiegel.

She was unable
to ID her assailant.

There was penetration
this time.

She said he was polite.

He wore a condom.

Polite?

He's just more sawy.

There's less evidence
for us to work with.

I know, exactly.

Hey! Police!

Come on, you pervert!
I can't breathe!

Oh, well, you're not
such a hotshot

once a real woman
gets a hold of you.

Slow it down, Xena.

It's all right. Okay.

Look, I saw him
in the bushes.

I know. I know.
I scared him.

I understand.
I got him by surprise.

Okay, get some ID on
these people, all right?

Let's all go
downtown, all right?

I got him.

You're not gonna...
you're dead.

You all right?
Yeah, I'm fine.

Okay.

Please, please,
don't shoot me.

Victor?
Please! Please!

Victor!

Hey, Sara.

Heard you reopened
the Winters case.

Did you know
the lead OSI

on this case,
Terry Flannery?

Flannery. Yeah, yeah.

He retired and moved
back to L.A.

These are exit wounds
from the husband's back.

What do you see?

It's shored.

There's a definite
abrasion ring.

The only way
you get marks like these

is when the vic's back

is pressed against
something... a floor, a wall.

How did Flannery miss this?

There are two CSIs you never
want investigating your murder...

the one on his first week,
and the one on his last.

Hey, does Melissa know
you're doing this?

I don't want
to get her hopes up.

She's been through a lot.

You know how
some victims are.

They don't really want
to know what happened.

You know?

(pager beeping)

You got something?

Well, why else would
I be paging you?

A bullet shot
from the same gun

that was recovered from
a liquor store robbery

in Henderson
six months ago.

Check it out.

They line up perfectly.

Oops recover the gun?

Do you one better?

They got the shooter.

Roger Wilder.

I'm liking you already.

I don't know
any Melissa Winters.

No? Bad memory?

Let me jog
it for you.

She was the Assistant DA

who prosecuted you
for assault five years ago.

She got you
sentenced to four years.

Yeah, I was out in one.

What about her?

Well, the trial transcript says

at the sentencing
you yelled at her,

"What goes around,
comes around."?

It was a chump charge.

She did a number on me.

So was it just a coincidence

that three weeks
after you got out of jail,

Mrs. Winters and her husband
were shot in her own home?

We recently recovered a bullet
from Melissa's head.

It happens to match a bullet

fired from the gun that you used
in your latest felony.

You know what we call that?

Corroborating evidence.

I guess I'd keep
my mouth shut, too.

Three years have passed.

You don't have to say anything,

but I have to tell you
that evidence persists.

A fingerprint,
a fiber, a hair.

If I find one shred

of physical evidence
that places you

in the Winters' house,

there is not a jury
in Clark County

that will not give you
the death penalty.

I went to her house.

Not to kill her.

I wanted to see the look
on her smug-ass face

when she saw
I knew where she lived.

She wasn't there, all right?

Did you knock
or did you use the doorbell?

No one was there.

I busted in, thought
I'd mess the place up

and give her a nice
welcome home.

A gun just fell from a table.

Yep.

At least I got
something out of her.

Everybody tells you to get more
involved in the community,

but once you do...

Hey, hey, hey, you
busted a man's lip.

You broke a tooth,
you sprained his finger.

Jujitsu, Shotokan.

They act on their own.

I am just a vessel.

Shouldn't I go to the hospital?

I was bleeding.

I just have a few questions.

First off, what were you doing
at those apartments?

I was on my way home
from spin class on my bike

and then I saw him.

He was in those bushes around
Jennifer's place and I guess

I thought the guy'd be scary.

Hey!
You know, Night Stalker scary,

but he was like
a wet French fry.

I
knew
I could take him.

She was insane.
She didn't even let me explain.

Try
me.

I was looking for an apartment.

I just got a raise
and I need more space.

So you decide to start your
search in the dead of night

when there's
a rapist on the loose?

I work days.

It was in the classifieds.

Oh.

Besides, what, what's
he going to do to
me?

Well, Wendy did okay.

Um, the problem I'm having
is that those apartments

there's always
an availability,

so, um, kind of gives you

a plausible excuse
anytime, anywhere, doesn't it?

Oh, I like those shoes.

What size are you?

Eight and a half.

Eight and a half, huh?

Do you mind
if I look at the soles?

You seem disappointed.

Hey, how would you feel
about allowing me

to look at all
your shoes from home?

I mean, it'd be
strictly voluntary.

I don't know if I'd

be comfortable with that.

A young, white male

living in a targeted
neighborhood...

I'd think you might
want to,

you know,
help rule yourself out.

I value my privacy.

Of course you do.

Am I free to go?

Yeah.

Oh. Uh, Mr. Reed.

If Wendy attacked you
and you're innocent,

I'd think you might want
to file charges against her.

How come you didn't?

Uh, no. I do. Want to.
File charges, yeah.

You sure? I wouldn't want you to
do anything you didn't believe.

No, she assaulted me.
L-I want to file.

We'll take a report.

Look, I want
you to know

once you sign
that complaint,

it becomes a binding
legal document, all right?

He's filing charges on me?

This is ridiculous.

Agreed.

May I please
take that swab?

Thank you.

I'm going to need
that jacket, too.

That's great, you know?

The guy's out there raping women

and I end up getting
strip-searched by the police.

Wendy, I can't discuss
an ongoing case

but what I can tell you

is if we're going
to get this guy,

it'll be because of what
you're giving us right now.

Really?

Really.

Okay.

Roger Wilder said
he was inside Melissa's house,

which is true.

He described
the exact layout of the room.

But he said he found
the gun

when he destroyed
the coffee table

and I have no evidence
to disprove that.

Well, go for logic.

Some guy breaks into
the Winters' house,

shoots 'em both and
leaves his gun behind?

Why?

I don't know.

Well, if it was
really there,

how come OSI
didn't find it?

That's a very good question.

I knew something was off
when we saw that shored wound.

It didn't match up
with Melissa's account.

If her husband
was standing up,

like Melissa said,
when he was shot,

blood would have dripped
down from the entry wound

to the belt buckle.

Yeah. Gravity only
runs one way.

(gunshot)

This blood stain...

The only way
it's going south...

He was laying down.

She lied.

Heya!

About the blood on
kung fu lady's clothes.

Greg, I don't want
any other cases
jumping mine.

This is priority.

Yeah, if I had a dime...

Anticipating that,

I skipped dinner
and ran the DNA through OODIS.

Mm.

Turns out that
your apartment hunter,

that girly man,
left his double helix behind

at another crime scene.

Unknown subject,
five months ago

breaking and entering,
burglary.

Yeah, they had nothing to
compare it to at the time.

But we do now.

Mm-hmm.

(beeping)

(knocks)

(hoarsely)
Sara, hey.

Hey.

You did it.

Yeah. I beat the odds.

I got lucky.

Lucky and smart.

I reopened your case.

Yeah, my doctor mentioned it.

He said that he gave
you the bullet.

I know what
you did, Melissa.

I, uh, examined
the evidence.

Your husband wasn't
free-standing in
front of the couch

struggling with
some stranger.

(sports announcer
talking on TV)

There was no stranger.

He was, uh, asleep,
wasn't he?

On the couch?

You're the one
with the evidence.

You had a OSI
who was about to retire,

who was predisposed
to believe the testimony

of an honest prosecutor
like you.

Especially since you got shot,
too?

(softly groans)

See, he leaned up
from a prone position.

(sobbing)

(gags)

(gun drops)

Directionality of the blood
tells the story.

I didn't understand
why I couldn't move my legs.

And you couldn't let anyone
find that gun.

They would have tested
your hands for GSR.

(groaning)

(gasping)

I thought that I could go back.

That I could get rid of it.

Somebody else did that for you.

I almost had him arrested
for a murder you committed.

You would think that an attorney
could come up with a great case

against an abusive husband,

but I... I was ashamed.

I didn't want people to know
what he did to me.

All your closing arguments,
all your big talk about justice.

I fell for all of it.

I've always believed in justice.

I still do.

You never expected to live,
did you?

No.

Out of all the CSIs,

I knew I could depend on you.

I guess I'll be seeing you
in court.

Good-bye, Melissa.

(door opens)

(door closes)

(phone ringing)

How's your chart
of escalation?

Deescalating.

I had figured
Taylor Reed was branching out,

widening his circle,

but after last night,
I think he's pulling in,

going back
to his original comfort zone.

Was one of your original
burglaries located at

13200 Appian Way?

Five months ago.

First floor, broke in
through a sliding door.

Where our guy Taylor Reed

cut himself
on the glass.

So, we've narrowed
the epicenter down

to a single block...
Appian Way.

I'm thinking if we find
something overlooked

at those early crime
scenes on Appian

we can tie it
to our sexual assaults.

Deescalation.

If we can't get
to where he's going,

we'll go where he's been.

Hi. Hi, I'm Nick Stokes.

I'm with the Vegas crime lab.

There's a situation
in your apartment complex

you should be aware of.

You mind if I come in,
ask you a few questions?

Hello.

I'm Warrick Brown.

I'm from
the Las Vegas Crime Lab.

We're investigating
a disturbance

a couple of doors down.

I wanted to ask you

a few questions
if I could.

So help me out.

What's a delicate way
to say this?

I'd like to barge in,
tear your apartment upside down,

and look for
five-month-old evidence?

You're the poet.

Well,
I'm glad you noticed.

Well, looks like somebody
is still awake.

(knocking)

Las Vegas Police...

Detective. Ma'am.

What are you doing here?

I live here.

This is not the address
on your driver's license.

People move.

Right.

We'd like to come in.

Sure.

Pardon the mess.

I'm going to take
a guess here.

This apartment came
on the market

five months ago.

The old tenant was bothered
by the breaking and entering,

the bloodstain
that you left behind.

You moved into the apartment

you committed
your first crime in, didn't you?

Now you're ready
to move again, huh?

You weren't looking
for another apartment.

You were looking for...

another victim.

You got something to hide, Reed?

Jim?

Yeah, okay.

Jim, we need an ambulance!

You okay?

Miss, are you all right?

It's over. It's over.
It's okay.

(garbled radio transmissions)

(helicopter whirrs by)

The cop read Melissa her rights

right there
in the hospital room.

You think you know somebody.

I never think that.

Ever?

When I was a kid

I was playing hide-
and-seek one day

and I found this plastic bag
under my big brother's bed.

I thought it was
a bag of dirt

so I took it to my mom.

Turned out it was
his bag of weed.

He was grounded
for a year.

The best intentions
are fraught with disappointment.

Emerson?

Grissom.