All language subtitles for CSI.Crime.Scene.Investigation.S04E15.Early.Rollout.720p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.x264-NTb

Ready to go? I'll get the
paper, you get the car.

Early morning call-out, the worst.

Where did you come from?

Home.

Did you get any sleep?

No. You?

About a half an hour.

I was watching the
world series of poker.

Waiting for Sam Farha
to light his cigarette.

Ever been to the Acid Drop?

I try to avoid those places.

The victims were the owners.
Mike Trent and his wife Laurel.

Both shot execution-style back of the
head. A neighbor walking the dog found 'em.

Mike used to own a
semi-pro hockey team with

some other guy. He made
a ton of money, sunk it

all into clubs like Acid Drop,
uh, Psychedelic Hoe-Down...

Captain Brass.

...fun joints.

Looks like they never
got out of the driveway.

She dropped where she was shot,
but he looks like he was dragged.

You drag a body away to hide it, not
down a driveway for the world to see it.

Unless that was the point.

CSI 4x15
- Early Rollout

Bling-bling.

The ol' trophy wife.

You think?

Classic Vegas. He pays for
her boobs, tummy tuck, Prada,

weekly spa, french manicure. And she's
just hanging on his arm like she belongs.

Tell us how you really feel, Catherine.

Oh, it's gross. I wouldn't
want to be her for the world.

I wouldn't mind being
her for a day, I guess.

Well, not this day.

No.

Looks like it was just the two of them.

Nobody I know lives like this with kids.

I've been here for twenty
minutes. What's the code?

You on the East Coast
looking for a sunset?

I am.

You're at the wrong gate.
Drive back down the road, make

three lefts. When you get
to the main gate, speak

to Officer Ray and tell her
you're with the crime lab. When you

get to the scene, make sure I'm
the first person you speak to.

Okay.

Mike Trent?

Mm-hmm.

Boy, he's a big dog in the club
world. Rumour is he paid Lil' Kim

$10,000 one time just to walk into one of
his clubs, turn around and walk back out.

Yeah, I heard Jah
Rule gets the same fee.

It's what I heard.

Hey, uh, let me have one of those, Sara.

Sorry, last one.

You have a cold, Sara?

I've been feeling a
little run down lately.

Okay, it's a gated community. The
main gate has a guard all the time.

The resident gate is at the
north end, has punch-key access.

Those are the only two ways
in and out of this place.

I thought you moved into communities
like this for this not to happen.

Hey, Grissom. What do you got?

So far, an empty briefcase and a purse.

You want us to take the perimeter?

Yeah, please. Catherine
and Warrick are inside.

The bodies were found
on the driveway, so any

evidence of the killers
is going to be out here.

I'll check the rear for
any sign of forced entry.

I'll take the side yard.

You just get off a shift?

Catherine called me. I'm
here to help with the case.

You look like a man who just
rolled out of bed. You all right?

Yeah, why?

Tshirt, sneakers. You're
already a half hour

late. Grissom will rip you a
new one if he sees you like that.

Serious?

Yeah, it's not a rebel
game. It's a crime scene.

See, this is what I'm
talking about right here.

The battery's not
changed kit's open. It's

not stocked; no swabs. Did you sterilize
your equipment after your last case?

Uh, no.

See, you know when I'm on call because
my clothes are folded next to my bed.

Shoes, jacket, ball cap, bottle of water,
pen, paper, Thomas Guide, next to the phone.

That way, if I get a call at 3:00
in the morning, I'm not scrambled.

Everything's there
before the phone rings.

My game is tight, like
my trunk. Check it out.

Camera case, tripod, film
is in the fridge. Markers,

check. Extra field kit,
fully stocked, sterilized.

Shoeprint lift kit, wet weather
gear. Files "mama. " Forms for days.

First call form, first
officer form, consent to

search, bird's eye view
inside, bird's eye view outside.

It's down to how I like my lunch.
Picking up what I'm putting down?

Yeah. See, no one ever told me.

You've been told.

Yes, sir.

No sign of disturbance in the rear.

Cigarette butts. Orange peel,
seeds. Lying in wait, maybe.

You still sucking on
that same cough drop?

Yeah. I'm a... a slow sucker.

So, assuming the killer didn't live in
the community, how did he gain entry?

Crime occurred in the
driveway. Nothing to

indicate that the suspects
were inside the house.

Yes, ma'am. I got it. So,
then, what are we looking for?

Anything inside that'll
make the outside make sense.

On your hands and knees.
Check the carpet for trace.

Hey. Greg. I'm going to need
you to photograph something.

Why, what'd you find?

It's what I didn't find.

Well, I found something. Blood.

Blood? Where?

Ooh, I also found some videos.
Looks like amateur porn.

Porn. That figures. "Sunburn Sin". Ooh.

"Starring Laurel Lust.
" That's Laurel Trent.

Isn't that the wife?

Yeah. A few years back. "A Goode/Mike
T. Production. " "Mike T" as in

Mike Trent? Well, I bet he seduced
her, and then he produced her.

Laurel Trent definitely
had some work done.

Implants which she later
had removed. She has

a four-centimeter-long
scar at the edge of the

collapsed fibrous
capsules in both breasts.

Fascinating. Cause of death?

I was just getting to that. Two
gunshot wounds to the back of the

head, just like her
husband. Close range. Either

one immediately debilitating and
fatal. I sent the bullets to the

lab. But this is why I sent for you.

Stun gun burns?

If you're close enough to stun him,
you're close enough to shoot him.

And we suspect that
there were two assailants.

Well, maybe they were
trying to buy time.

For what?

Now the first order of
business is to kill the Trents.

Then the suspect go upstairs
and rip off those jewelry.

And they're all on bikes. It's a
little low rent don't you think?

Yeah, I don't think in a neighborhood like
this if you burn away out of here it will

cause a lot of attention but if
you roll quietly away on a bike.

Yeah. No one's arised. Okay I get it.

This is the resident
gate that Greg called me

from; he couldn't get
in. He needed a code.

Sara did find an orange peel in the side
yard. What do you think, sticky fingers?

Does citrus illuminate?

Sure it will, if it's derivatized.
Do you have any fluorescent reagents?

I've got ANTs. Not the insect.

- Amino-Naphthalene Trisulfonic
acid. - Trisulfonic acid.

You're trying to stump
me. I can feel it.

Let me check it out. The ants should
make it light up under the ALS.

One, three... five and six. In some
configuration. They had the code.

We're mid-case. Why do
we have to do this now?

I have to get this evaluation
in, or I'm gonna get written up.

Okay. My goals. Mm...
oh, all right, okay.

For starters, I'd like two
consecutive nights off. I would like

to cut my triples down to ten
a year instead of the usual

twenty, and, uh, I would love to

find a reliable baby-sitter, so I could
have myself some kind of a personal life.

You don't have a personal life?

I... write this down: I haven't
had sex in six - no - seven months.

How can I help?

You. Advance, I mean. Do you...

have any interest in changing
sections in the lab, for instance?

Gil, how do you do this? Honestly, how do
you juggle scheduling and vacations and...

The goal of any supervisor
is to teach someone

how to take his place someday.
Are you going someplace?

You never know.

Are you considering me?

Why not? You're certainly
qualified. But... a CSI who uses the

DNA lab to establish
her own paternity...

calls into question... her
judgment, don't you think?

You've left that out.
Are you covering for me?

I believe that we've dealt
with this issue, handled it

internally. As far as
I'm concerned, it's dead.

Besides, you'll never do it again.

So just sign your name by the red "X."

Before I sign, um, since
we're putting all of our cards

on the table, there's
something you should know.

Sam Braun wrote me a
check, and... I cashed it.

For how much?

Enough to where Lindsay and I can do

anything and... not enough
to where we can do nothing.

Sam Braun was a murder
suspect in one of your cases.

How does this not look like a payoff?

I consulted an attorney. It
is a check from a father to a

daughter. It is completely out
of departmental jurisdiction.

What about conflict of interest?
Not just for you but for this lab.

Gil, I would never
compromise you or the lab.

Maybe not legally, but ethically?

What else should I know, Catherine?

That's everything.

Talk to me.

Orange peels, seeds, cigarette butts. I'm
logging them in and moving them to DNA.

Okay, so you've gone through
her purse, uh, her wallet...

Yeah, everything's there
- money, credit cards.

What about the briefcase?

Empty. Stop. I-I got a system here. I

found this wadded up in her purse.
It's a release form permission to

shoot an adult movie at
the Acid Drop from Drake the

Snake productions.
Signed by a Drake Snow.

I need to see your boss.

Follow me.

Tonight's for Mike. We pay our
respects by ringing the register. Now,

I don't mind if you're talking, just as long
as they're drinking. Watch the doubles...

Uh...

Watch the doubles. Be smart.
You do that, we're gonna

take this party through till 6:00 in the
morning. And most importantly, have fun.

Go make some money. See you later.

Thanks.

You here about Mike?

Yes, I am.

Let's go somewhere private.

Sorry for the inconvenience, everybody.
When you come back, next bottle's on me.

Great.

Thanks, chief. We're going to shut
her down for about half an hour.

Well... this is private.

It was, um... it was a real
shock, you know? Mike and Laurel

getting killed like
that. But I got to say, if they

had a choice how
to go out, it would have

been together. For him, the
sun rose and set with her.

He didn't treat her like a trophy wife?

No. You kidding? No. He got her off the
VHS covers, and she made a home for him.

Have a seat.

Um, and what was, uh... what was your
professional affiliation with him?

I run his clubs. Ever since he got out
of the partner business with Kyle Goode.

Have you seen this Mr. Goode lately?

He shows his face every once in a
while. I just try to keep him away

from Mike, you know? As
much as humanly possible.

And... What about this Drake Snow guy?

Drake? Drake the Snake.
I, uh... I hired him.

He's harmless. He saw one Ron Jeremy
movie. Now the guy just sees dollar signs.

Uh, and how did he get
along with the Trents?

Why don't you go ask him?

Reading my mind.

Mm.

You, uh... you never gave me your name.

Oh. Catherine.

Catherine.

Willows.

Chris Bezich.

Chris Bezich.

Come on.

Mike and Kyle, they made all their
money out of Laurel taking it off.

She-she was a cash register
in panties is what she was.

And you wanted in?

No. Trust me. The last thing that
I wanted was to be partners with

Mike. Guy'd... would chew you up and spit
you out soon as look at you. And Kyle...

Guy'd tell you right to your face
he's sticking it to you. Pasadena,

baby. I got my own plans. I-I just...
I just need a location. One location.

And what? Mike didn't agree to it?

Didn't ask him. Last time I asked him
for something, he took a swing at me.

Get the hell out of my...

I just want the same shot that
you had, Mike. Laurel said that...

You two aren't in business anymore.

In the kitchen, you said?

Yeah. So, I wasn't going
to make that mistake

again, so I had to try
something different.

So, I pulled a Geffen.
I went straight to Yoko.

Oh, you gave Laurel the release form.

Yeah. She was going to give it
to Mike. He was going to sign

it, and they were going to get
it back to me. So much for that.

All right. So, uh,
listen, Drake. I'm going

to help you get that dream shot.

So that when you do
get into the porn biz,

you won't have a murder
rap hanging over your head.

Here. Crime Scene 101.
Stick this in your mouth.

Hey, you can set 'em right there.

Can't believe that there's this many
abandoned bikes in Charleston Hills.

These were found in the alley behind
the fire department, so check them out.

Sugar on the handlebars of both
bikes. Just like the keypad.

So we may have our getaway bikes.

We could check the serial numbers,
but they're usually not recorded.

You know what? I got an idea.

Hmm?

What are you doing?

Get me a pair of tweezers, will you?

Now how did you know
that receipt was in there?

Well, I used to read point
spreads. Now I read books.

Good for you. Bad for
Ross Davis, though.

This is a little intense for getting
my bike stolen. I already got a new one.

Did you report it?

No. You're kidding me,
right? I got jumped, man.

By whom?

By two bucked-ass brothers.
They were both yoked as hell.

Ripped. I thought for a second
they were going to kill me.

Something wrong with your neck?

Man, it's killing me. I don't
know what the hell they hit

me with, but my knees
was the first to go.

I believe you were hit with a stun gun.

Just like Mike Trent.

I found something on your butt.

Checking out my butt again, Greg?

I was...

...as well as the four butts
Sara got at the crime scene.

Oh.

Found something on them that I can't
explain, so I sent them over to Hodges.

Your butt's fine.

Switching gears. Blood found in the
Trents' bedroom is a match to Drake

So he told the truth about the blood
and lied about the kitchen. Figures.

Three of the four cigarette
butts are also a match to Drake.

Puts him at the scene.
And the fourth butt?

Female, not a match to Laurel Trent.

Orange seeds?

Two additional donors, both male. Not a

match to any of our
players. No hits on CODIS.

So we're looking for two guys
and a gal who might know Drake.

We already know you lied. We found
your blood in the Trents' bedroom, not

in the kitchen. So what were you doing in
there? You putting the shot in her, or what?

Hey, look. I know where you're
going with this. Okay, I was in

the bedroom. She wasn't
on her knees. I was. I was

begging. Not for sex. I was begging
for my business. Drake the

Snake Productions. Mike comes busting in,
goes ballistic, smacks me in the nose...

I mean, I know I keep coming
back to this three-and- out

thing, but maybe because
you're in bed with his wife.

Laurel and I didn't have sex
in the bedroom. We had it on the

set- past tense
- long time ago.

Then along came Mike.

Mike was good for Laurel.
Mike was not good for me.

She got carte blanche
- Laurel. Me, I got a bar back.

Now I'm popping blue
pills looking for something

to bring me down, but
I know the business.

I just don't have the capital
to get behind the camera.

So what does killing the Trents get you?

Zero. No one was more upset than me.

You're still pouring
drinks. Boo-hoo. And

what are you doing
smoking around their place?

What?

Yeah, we found cigarette butts with
your DNA on it on their property.

I don't know what you're
talking about. I don't.

I smoke one place, okay? I
smoke at work. I'm down to one a

day. Right after happy hour,
I have my one cigarette,

and it's out back by the service
register. You ask anybody.

Drake's telling the truth,
you know? He smokes one a day.

Not on the floor, right here, my rule.

mm-hmm. Well, I'll have
to verify it with evidence.

You verify everything?

Everything.

Including you. You're clear.

Can you blame Drake, you know?

He's trying to give up cigarettes.
That's like me trying to give up...

Sex?

Everybody needs to indulge in a
vice at least once a day, right?

Yes, well, I did happen
to notice those little

waitress girlies trying to serve
their way into bed with you.

That's work.

I prefer women.

Speaking of work, do you,
um... ever get a day off?

- What? You want to get to know me?
- Yes.

- What?
- Wait. Hang on. I'm on the clock.

You started it.

Yes, and when the time is
right, maybe I'll finish it.

How you feeling?

Hey. What do you mean?

Well, you were popping cough drops at
the scene the other day a mile a minute.

I thought I was coming down with a cold.

Ah. Yeah, I, uh...

I understand colds. You know, back
in Jersey when I was getting it from

both ends, from my wife
and my work, uh... things

started to get heavy. I started
"medicating". "Cure" my cold. And,

um, and god forbid I
had an early morning

roll-out and I had that tell-tale
breath, you know what I mean?

So I would dodge my supe, and
I started popping cough drops.

I mean, what I'm trying to
say is that... there's more

problems than answers in the
bottom of a bottle, believe me.

Yeah.

Actually, I had a couple of beers
with breakfast when I got off

shift. And then I got called in.

Just a couple?

Yeah.

I'm just looking out for you.

Hey, what are you doing after work?

More work.

You've photos of Laurel Trent's jewelry.

Yeah, two-carat diamond
earrings, ruby necklace, diamond

and sapphire bracelet,
lady's gold rolex.

The insurance company says it's
worth somewhere north of two mil.

I got every pawn shop
in town on the lookout.

What?

You know that feeling you
get when you just can't

quite put your finger on something?

What can't you put your finger
on besides the clock-out button?

Why did they drag his
body down the driveway?

Dragging's your racket. But I can
tell you who's dragging Mike Trent

into court. His ex-business
partner, Kyle Goode.

Evidence.

Evidence in context. Take a look.

Trace on the cigarette butt is a match
to the sand I collected form the ashtray.

At Acid Drop.

Now, take a look at this.

I found trace amounts of soil
in the orange seeds and the

orange peel but not on any of the butts.

So it's possible that
the butts were planted.

May explain why there seems to be
so many suspects at the crime scene.

Probably clears Drake
Snow and your unidentified female smoker.

Where
does that leave you?

With two guys on bikes.

Hit that ninja. On
the bridge. That's it.

Kyle Goode?

Uh-huh.

I'm Detective Jim Brass, homicide.

I was wondering when you
guys would get around to me.

Why's that?

My ex-partner's murdered. I got
a lawsuit against him. He owes

me millions. I'd like me for it.

Great, then we won't
have to pull teeth to get

to the truth. Where were
you yesterday morning?

With my son, Alex.

Where?

You're not going to believe anything
I tell you. Why don't you ask him?

Okay.

Come, Alex. Get off the game.

That's enough.

You cost me a man.

I got more quarters.

So, Alex, where were
you yesterday morning?

At grandma's.

All morning?

No. She lives in
Laughlin. My dad drove me.

What time did you get there?

I don't know. I was sleeping.
Maybe around... 11:00?

You sure about that?

Yeah. When I woke up,
Captain Caveman was on.

Okay, Laughlin's about two hours away,
so you and your son left home around 8:30?

More like 8:00. Alex likes those

breakfast sandwiches. We picked
a couple up. Ate them on the way.

Where'd you pick them up?

Sunny Side's over on Eastern.
You looking for an alibi?

Something like that, yeah.

Come on, Alex. Let's go over to
Circus Circus. They got a real arcade.

Thank you for visiting Sunny
Side's. Next in line, please.

- Hi.
- Would you like to try the Sunny Side's special?

No, I'm Nick Stokes. I'm with the Las Vegas
crime lab. Can I talk to you for a second?

Are you Missy Wilson?

Are you a truant officer?

No.

Your Manager said you were working breakfast
the other day at the pick-up window.

Yeah.

Do you remember this guy?

Oh, my god. That's the
creep who was hitting

on me. He was so repulsive.
You know what he said to me?

I'd like to bend you
over the counter, baby.

And he said it in front of his kid.
What kind of father acts like that?

Sounds like he wanted
to make an impression.

Oh, he did. I hope you're
going to arrest him.

One thing at a time. Now this window...

I get all the creeps
in drive-through -

teenagers, perverts, walk-ups, and

those are my favorites.
"Hi, I'm on a skateboard.

Can I have a burger combo?" "No, dork. "

Does this window have
a surveillance camera?

Oh, yeah, we have cameras all
over here. Even in the cooler.

Confirms his alibi. Every suspect Brass

leans on seems to have a
case of the "airtights. "

Hold it. Run that back.

Pause it.

What is that around the kid's neck?

I don't know. Let's enhance it.

Hard to tell, but, it
almost looks like a canteen.

You bring a canteen up to
your lips, not to your eyes.

I'll pull some stills,
see what I can make of it.

AV Lab. Grissom.

I'll be right there.

Well, he lived by the stun,
but I don't think he died by it.

He didn't. Uh, two gunshot
wounds to the back of the head.

TOD is within the hour.

Blood spatter everywhere.
Multiple directionalities.

You almost done, David?

Uh, yes, sir. He's all yours.

Thanks. I want to pick his pockets.

M... and T. Doesn't
look like Michael Trent.

If he's one of our bad guys on
the bicycle, where's his partner?

And where's the rest of the jewelry?

That's probably what his partner
said before he tossed the room.

Hey, look what I found:
A knife with blood on it.

Look what I found: A dead guy.

Nine-millimeter.
Pillowcase full of jewelry.

Two stacks of $10,000 bricks.

Well, either they pawned some
diamonds at the US Treasury, or they're

on someone's payroll. You know
what that means: Hit-for-hire.

And we're still looking for somebody.

Who gets the honors: Him or him?

Eh, let's start with Mr. Head wound.

You've seen these before.

Stun gun. The debilitator of choice.

Heard you found a
nine-millimeter at the scene?

I sent the bullets to ballistics.

How about his buddy? Any lead in him?

No, but he took a blade to the
stomach. The cut was shallow,

five or six centimeters below the
sternum. Like the soft spot in a dragon.

Sounds like no honor among thieves.

Well, I'll tell you what they
were fighting over. The jewelry

was hot. Either you fence
it fast or eat the loss.

I'm thinking more and more
it was never part of the plan.

You know, you could be right. I

talked to the Trents' bank. They were

on their way to the safety
deposit box that morning and

then off to Hawaii at
the end of the week.

So it was Laurel Trent who
cleaned out her own jewelry box.

Yeah. Murder was their wage,
and jewelry was their tip.

How's your hands?

Sore. Document every single bill. Fun.

I got to hand it to these casinos.
They got it all figured out.

What do you mean?

Well, this is a ten
thousand dollar brick, right?

I could either lose this
in a hand of blackjack,

or I could lose cranberry
chip. What's worse?

To me, losing's losing.

Sara?

I got a bloodstain.

You know, the last
time I checked, defacing

government property
was a federal offense.

Not when it's logged in as property,
Greg. The blood might be from a paper cut.

Okay, but you're my witness.

Run it against all our players.

Uh-huh.

I finished up on those
still photos. The canteen

around Little Alex's neck...
is really a set of binoculars.

If you keep flipping, it
tells the rest of the story.

You're going to
break them. I- I- I...

Now, call me crazy, but it looks like

daddy doesn't like the little man wearing
the binoculars around his neck so much.

I wonder why?

What are you thinking?

Stay right here until I call you.

Yeah?

Nick, would you move about
halfway up the driveway?

Back where Mike Trent was shot?

Exactly.

How's this? Can you see me here?

No, I can't. Thank you.

Jim? Gil. I'm fine. How are you?

Would you put an APB out on
Kyle Goode's vehicle, please?

You recognize this?

That's my kid.

What's that around his neck?

That's his binoculars.

Yeah. Zeiss, 20x60, BSGA.
Forty- five hundred a pop.

You know how it is. You got
your kid in the car, traveling

a long distance. Whatever
keeps them occupied.

According to your son, he
slept all the way to Laughlin.

Kid falling asleep in a car on
the way to his grandma's house?

You guys won't even make it
through the courthouse door.

Court. That's where the lawyers

get fat. And you know all
about that. I mean, you've

got a lawsuit with your
ex-business partner, and

your ex-wife, who's suing
you for past alimony...

That's irrelevant.

Not according to his
wife it isn't. She gave us

permission for a hair
sample from your son.

For what?

The good thing about drugs?
They work their way through the

bloodstream in the
urine, but not the hair.

Our lab found trace elements
of ambien, which is a

hypnotic sleep sedative,
in your son's hair root.

Until we see the test results,
we're withholding comment.

No problem, counselor. Okay, moving on.

The "buy" money, the 20k that we
found on the two geniuses you hired?

What geniuses?

You know, the brothers, who are so cool
and laid back, they're in the morgue.

Oh, what? You didn't know they're
dead? Yeah, they greased each other over

the jewelry. And that wasn't even part
of the deal in the first place, was it?

Good help is hard to find, huh, Kyle?

He's not answering that.

I hated that son of a
bitch. Mike Trent was a

scumbag, worst of the
worst. Use you up and blow

right through you. I
brought him in on my nickel.

And he throws me out? Invests our
money in clubs and kicks me out?

To do what? To ride off into the
sunset with my piece of sushi? And

it's not just me. There's
a lot guys out there

got burned by him who wouldn't mind a
little revenge. I'll even go so far as to say

I'm not sorry he's dead, or
rotting somewhere in some box.

But I'll say this for
sure: I didn't kill him.

I'm not saying you did.

Or his wife.

But your $20,000 incentive pulled
the trigger. And you know what? You

won't believe this
- a paper cut gave you away.

...Ten makes twenty large.

When you do it, I want to
see it. I'll be up here.

We did the DNA test for the cigarette
butt you left at the arcade. Plain

view, right counselor? And we matched
it to the blood we found on the money.

He didn't hire two
killers. He only hired me.

Yeah, well, lawsuits take a while.
I don't think you cared about

a verdict anyway, did you, Kyle?
You wanted much more than that.

My client was with his
son all day, that day.

Yeah that's where we screwed up.

Your hatred of Trent was stronger
than your love for your own child.

You druged your son so you
could use him as an alibi.

That's all a jury's gonna
need to hear to convict you.

Kyle Goode, you've been
bad. You're under arrest.

Oh... you're still here.
Uh... So I'm leaving.

Need anything?

No, I'm good.

Are we good?

We'll be fine.

Okay. I'll see you tomorrow.

Going out?

I've got some unfinished business
to take care of. I'll see you.