All language subtitles for CSI.Crime.Scene.Investigation.S09E15.Kill.Me.If.You.Can.720p.BluRay.x264-SiNNERS

See this car over here?

This is m-my car.

And I-I thought... thatwas...

* Who... are you?

* Who, who, who, who? *

* Who... are you?

* Who, who, who, who?

* I really wanna know

* Who... are you?

* Oh-oh-oh * Who... *

* Come on, tell me who are you, you, you *

* Are you!

Wealthy art dealer comes
out for a late-night swim.

Somebody's there who shouldn't be.

That is a whole lot of face smashing.

You think it was a crime of passion?

That is what it takes to make great art.

Can you think of anybody who
wanted to hurt your fianc�?

Carsten was an art dealer.

He dedicated his life to
bringing beauty into the world,

inspiring people.

Everybody loved him.

$5 million property, 50-cent lock.

Easy access for anyone who wanted to get in.

Thank you for helping out today, Wendy.

Oh, I'm happy to.

We had a lot of bodies today.

Yeah. I mean, I'm not happy

that we had a lot of bodies today.

There's a blood trail here.

I have absolutely no idea how
I could have missed that.

Right here...

and here.

And here.

Aha! It was him!

I didn't think I missed it.

Hi.

Hi... "Gareth."

He must have snuck in

while I was processing the pool.

Well, it's actually his house.

When was the last time you saw Carsten?

Um... after everybody left,

he went outside to have a
relaxing swim to calm down.

Why did he need to calm down?

I'm not really sure.

Uh, but during the party,
I saw him go into his office

with a client I hadn't seen before.

The next thing I know...

I want everybody out of here! Out, out, out!

Party's over!

Carsten was so upset.

But he wouldn't tell me what happened,

so I went to bed alone.

The next thing, it was morning
and the pool guy was shouting

to call the police.

The office should be right up ahead.

Is Brass getting the surveillance?

Yes, but there doesn't
appear to be any camera

with a clear view of the pool.

Well, I doubt Hef has
them in the grotto either.

Obvious signs of a struggle.

I'll swab the usual places for touch DNA.

These are Mesopotamian vases

circa 700 B.C.E.

These should be in a museum.

Yes, they're trophies.

Collecting's pathological
whether you're a rich man

or a serial killer.

Oh, hey, no, Gareth!

No, no, no, no!

Don't lick the evidence.

Shh-shh! Go! Go! Go!

And I thought dogs would eat anything.

This is the video surveillance

from Carsten Pennington's party.

This all seems consistent

with what Carsten's fianc�e told Brass.

Do we have any idea what
prompted his outburst?

I don't know what, but...

...maybe who.

See, the vic was alone in
his office with that guy

for approximately seven minutes

before buzzkill.

So, now all we need to do is
figure out who that guy is.

Yeah. Let me see what I can do.

All right.

Are you trying to do my job?

Eh... yes, a little.

Mandy had dusted everything
for fingerprints,

and unfortunately, she came up empty.

But look at this.

I think that these fragments,

the ones that Gareth found so delicious,

I think that they used to be a
vase that was actually stolen

from the Iraqi National Museum.

I think it was smuggled in,
like drug-dealer style

because basically,

all you have to do is take an antique vase,

and you wrap it up in a
bunch of cellophane, right?

You fill it with some

little plastic doodads and candy

and slap a "Made in China" sticker on there,

and that priceless piece of art
can just sail though US Customs

like a Tijuana pinata.

Excuse me.

I hate actors.

Okay, I have to go,

but I would love to finish putting

that back together when I'm done,
if it's okay with you.

Mm-hmm. I love jigsaw puzzles.

So when was the last time
you saw Mr. Pennington?

Uh, the other night at his party.

I've been acquiring Mesopotamian antiquities

on behalf of the Marrakesh

for an exhibit at our casino museum.

I purchased a piece from
Mr. Pennington last month.

He called me and said he had

a new Babylonian piece for sale,
so I went to go see it.

It wasn't what I was looking for.

Why, because it was stolen?

Like from the National Museum of Iraq?

Before...

after.

Trafficking in stolen
antiquities is illegal,

and from what I hear, dangerous.

Which is why people get off on it.

Not me. Do you know who I work for?

Yeah, Bruce Curtis,
CEO of Marrakesh Corporation.

I've met him.

Then you know if he found out
I compromised his reputation

with something like this...

You'dbe ancient history.

Look, I don't know who
killed Mr. Pennington,

but it wasn't me.

And if he was dealing with the black market,

then maybe he got what was coming to him.

Stupid lousy jigsaw puzzle.

It's one stupid piece.

You looking for this, Wendy?

Yes.

Thank you.

Hmm.

It's done.

It's fake.

How do you know?

The cat told me.

You take a replica vase,

you smear it with yogurt,
you let it soak in.

Then you mix in minerals
from the geographic area

you're trying to fake.

You let it sit in a hot, dry place.

You let the Lactococcus lactis go to work...

This process visibly ages the piece

and creates a true mineral match,

which, according to my research,

can fool experts and
spectrographic analysis alike.

But not a hungry cat?

I have a man in Dubai

whose brother is a curator.

The casino guy realized he'd been conned

and was terrified his boss would find out.

What have you done?

Nothing, compared to what
I'm going to do to you.

I want my money back!

He was a lot more cooperative
as a victim of art fraud

than he is as a suspect.

Killing Carsten wouldn't
get his boss's money back.

No, so I checked Pennington's bank.

He withdrew over $100,000
the day before he died.

Sounds like Carsten was about to skip town.

That's funny his fianc�e
didn't mention that.

So, what's this about?

Ms. Farrell, were you aware

that Mr. Pennington withdrew over $100,000

from his bank accounts yesterday?

Um... why?

Uh, no, I didn't know anything about that.

Then this'll be a short visit.

*

I found blood stains on Ms. Farrell's

party dress. Oh.

It's been washed.

I look great in that dress.

I wanted to wear it out tonight,

so I had to clean it-- it was dirty.

Those incriminating DNA stains
can be so hard to get out.

Which is why professional criminals

prefer chlorine bleach.

You use a nonenzymatic detergent.

Good for the environment...
and DNA retrieval.

I want an attorney.

Sure, that's your right.

This is how I clean up the planet.

So you think she just didn't know

that her fianc� was an art faker?

She was living in a swanky house

having swell parties and holding court

with fine friends.

I don't think she really cared.

Nice work, Doctor.

Nice work to you, too, Simms.

Thank you.

Ray, excuse me.

Could you come in here for a minute?

You need to see this.

It's a person of interest

in that motel murder I was working on.

That looks like my 419, Carsten Pennington.

It is.

And it isn't.

Second stage instar.

And since liver is fixed,

she's been dead no more than 48 hours.

So, Jena Makin from Hollywood

might have died on her 31st birthday.

No cell phone.

But if she has a number,

we'll get the records from the carrier.

Bullets entered under the chin

and exited the top of the skull.

Blood spatter and two holes in the ceiling.

Suggests that she was sitting up

when she was shot.

Please...

Bullets look like .38s.

Probably a revolver.

No casings.

And they're oxidized.

Our killer doesn't know
how to store ammunition.

Though it looks like he knows
how to cover his tracks.

Got a couple possible
wine glass stains here,

but I don't remember seeing any
wine or glasses in the room.

Strange-looking void.

Hello.

What is it?

A witness.

Oh, God.

COD's no mystery-- two GSWs to the head.

But I did find some abrasions

in the vaginal vault.

Could indicate rape.

Or rough consensual sex.

Either way, the, uh,
wet mount was negative for semen.

How considerate.

He wore a condom.

Busy night.

Well, the blood void means

that the tortoise was
there during the shooting.

And this print

has got to belong to the killer.

Mandy, what are you thinking?

The ASPCA is gonna shut us down.

Mandy?

The Amido black.

It's minimally toxic; it won't hurt him.

I'll be gentle.

Wonder if he's a rare species.

'Cause I read that African tortoises

can be worth as much as $10,000.

Just please hurry, okay?

'Cause he's been traumatized enough already.

He's a material witness in
a homicide investigation.

I meant traumatized by you.

So who brings a tortoise to a gunfight?

If the killer was trying
to take it with him after

he killed the girl, then it stands to reason

that the killer brought
it in the first place.

Or maybe it was hers,

which is why he killed her.

You just said they're valuable.

I got a hit.

Uh, Mickey Ross.

The Mickey Ross?

Who's Mickey Ross?

Mickey Ross is only the star

of the Crimson Orchid film franchise.

Ross plays Dr. Harley Copen,

physician by day, vigilante by night.

But he doesn't kill anyone;
he shoots them in the street,

and then he fixes them up in the E.R.

Rumor had it

that Ross had actual intercourse
with his co-star Ginger Snuff.

But a frame-by-frame analysis
unfortunately disproved that.

I'll call LAPD.

I wonder if actor man owns a .38.

Okay, I just need you to open your...

mouth.

That tickles.

They searched his place
in Hollywood, no gun.

But they found these.

They don't make that ammo anymore.

It's the same caliber, same brand,

same oxidation.

He's a triple threat.

You let me know what comes back from the...

electrophoresis gel.

It's how they blood-type DNA. Mm.

I played a medical examiner
in Killer Instinct 3.

Well, I'll catch that
on the History Channel,

'cause we stopped blood-typing
about 15 years ago.

Ah.

Is he hitting on you?

Yeah, but not very well.

Mm, and luckily I have to go,

'cause somebody lost a contact lens.

Look, this is just a big
misunderstanding, Detective.

Mm-hmm.

I loved Jena; I would never hurt her.

Where were you two nights ago?

I was in LA.

Wrong.

You were with Jena in her motel room.

No, I was in LA.

Save it.

The tortoise gave you up, man.

We found your prints on
his shell in Jena's blood.

Wait a minute, you have Gareth?

Is he okay? Can I see him?

That puts you at the murder, jackass.

All right, okay.

Yeah, I-I was there.

Right.

But I didn't kill her.

Jena was going through some stuff.

Okay? So she wanted

to go to Vegas to, uh...

pick herself up, have a little fun.

You know?

So I thought I'd just drop in on her,

and I brought Gareth.

She loved that tortoise.

But when I got to the... room,

I found her dead

with a gun in her hand.

And instead of calling the police,

you cleaned up the scene, you took the gun

and her cell phone, and you went back to LA.

Yes, because I knew how bad it looked.

Do you have any idea...

any idea at all how... this makes me feel?

To not know that my wife was suicidal...

my own wife!

But I was too self-absorbed

to even recognize her pain.

Jena was the one

real thing in my life.

MICKEY Jena! Jena!

You think I'm just gonna let you play me

like a bitch while you run
off with that piece of crap?

You know me better than that, you whore!

See, you can ditch

a gun, you can toss a cell phone,

but voice mails are forever.

Even when you delete them
off your own phone, huh?

She didn't kill herself, Mickey.

Give it up.

You're nailed.

This is all because of Tripp.

No, this is all because of you.

Tripp Linson-- he's a
producer I met four years ago.

He was gonna produce my comeback feature,
Enemy of the People.

It was written up in Variety,
maybe you saw it.

Come on, Mickey!

This guy talks me out of 200 Gs

to invest in his little movie, okay?

And then he talks his way
into my wife's pants.

They become a thing.

But I forgive her.

Then a couple of days ago,
I go to the house,

and I get this little note.

The note says,

"We're done."

She's gonna run off with Tripp.

So I check the credit card company,
find out where she is.

I go to the motel, and I find her.

She's in there, and she's
just crying her eyes out.

She found Tripp, but he...

the bastard pretended he
didn't even know who she was.

Gareth cheered her up.

And then we... we recommitted to each other.

You recommitted?

The ME called it rape-murder.

Rather than be with me...

...my wife killed herself.

This is our second chance.

You and me, baby! Forever!

That's a nice try, Mickey.

But when people blow their brains out,

they only pull the trigger once.

Now, Jena...

was shot twice.

No, that's not possible.

I was there-- I only heard one shot.

One shot.

Sometimes the gunpowder

in old ammunition doesn't burn completely.

This results in shallow
rifling marks on the bullet,

which only gets partway down the barrel.

If you don't realize what's
happened and you try again,

the second bullet impacts the first,

leaving an indentation in the base

and forcing both bullets out of the barrel.

And that... is how you get a twofer.

This is our second chance.

You and me, baby!

Forever!

What do you know.

Mickey Ross was telling the truth.

Tripp, can you give us a second?

Look, you know what you get

when you have... you have

the perfect actor in the perfect

part in the perfect script?

One word, dude: immortality.

I'm not gonna even have to ask
Mickey to act-- this guy has

lived this.

Tripp Linson is awesome.

Jena, what have you got there?

Not "what." Who.

Say hello, Gareth.

He's a gift.

For Mickey.

Um, slow and steady wins the race, dude.

We start filming this summer.

Go see this movie.
You're never going to regret it.

Ray, excuse me.

Could you come in here for a minute?

You need to see this.

It's a person of interest

in that motel murder I was working on.

That looks like my 419, Carsten Pennington.

It is.

And it isn't.

-Hey, do either one of you recognize this guy
-- Ryan Morton?

He kind of looks...

familiar.

Oh...

I think I just threw out my back. Seriously?

Oh...

I'm good.

No, no, come on out of there, Super Dave.

Take a break; we'll get him.

Jimmy, get him out of there

for me, will ya?

You all right? Yeah.

Easy. There you go.

There's a body shoved
under the steering column.

So, I think it's safe to say

somebody didn't want him to be found.

No shell casings, no apparent blood.

Phone.

Did you get an ID on him?

Here you go.

His name's Shawn Hagan.

He's a PI from Tahoe.

Wow. Rigor is fully developed.

Makes TOD at least six to 12 hours ago.

No petechial hemorrhaging.

And no bruising on the neck.

So maybe a heart attack?

Or an OD?

But I don't see any drug
paraphernalia around here.

The rental agreement

said he picked up the
car four days ago in LA.

Yeah, and it looks like he was expensing it

at $160 a day to a client.

Well, if he bills clients like
that for heaps like these,

we're gonna have a lot of suspects.

Lucky you were visiting Vegas, Dr. Anton.

What's your business with Shawn Hagan?

It's a personal matter.

Why do you want to know?

Mr. Hagan's case files are
on their way down from Tahoe.

So nothing's gonna remain
personal very long.

Mr. Hagan is helping me find
a former business associate.

That's personal?

It's a private matter.

Have a seat.

Shawn Hagan was murdered last night.

Where were you?

In my hotel room, all night,

watching movies.

If Shawn Hagan is dead,

Ryan Morton had something to do with it.

Let me guess,

that would be your
business associate, right?

You know where we might find him?

No.

That's what Mr. Hagan was
supposed to find out.

Here.

That's as much as I know.

I doubt it'll do you any good.

This reminds me of David's back.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Hang on a second.

Looks like a contact lens.

He's not wearing the other one.

Could be from the killer.

I'll get it to Wendy,
have her run the clothes

for touch DNA as well.

Nick, this is a gunshot wound.

Palm-side entry.

Sooting says that it's a contact wound.

Through and through?

Yeah. Hmm.

Then why didn't we find the bullet anywhere?

Or blood.

Whew.

Hagan grabs the gun in the
course of the struggle.

The bullet tracks along the
skin inside the sleeve,

reenters the torso, and deflects off a rib

into both lungs, then off another rib

into the diaphragm...

finally coming to rest in the spleen.

Ballistic pinball.

More or less.

Hmm.

Brass-washed .22.

High-penetration round.

Bullets sometimes take
a long and winding road

before they reach their
ultimate destination.

Some people, too.

Lake Tahoe-- the Golden West.

This is where fortunes are made.

Hi. My name is Ryan Morton,
and I want to make you rich.

This country was forged
by wildcat entrepreneurs

who struck out across an untamed continent

to find mountains of
timber and rivers of gold.

Those mother lodes

are still out there waiting
for those who dare to dream.

Looks like Gareth thinks so, too.

Your investment in Royal Tahoe property

can yield a 24% return, or even higher.

For a taste of the frontier spirit

that made America great, give me a call.

It's hard to believe people actually
fall for this crap. I don't know.

Have you ever known anyone

to hit a royal flush playing video poker?

Oh, of course. So...

then it could happen to you, right?

You know,

there's something about this guy

that looks familiar.

Hey.

Look what Sanitation turned up in a Dumpster

two blocks from Shawn Hagan's murder scene.

.22 caliber? Yeah.

Nice. Same as the bullet.

Did you run ballistics?

Oh, I will.

But it's got a serial number.

Guess who it's registered to.

Ballistics confirms your gun

fired the bullet that killed Shawn Hagan.

This gun hasn't been in
my possession for years.

So, what, you misplaced it?

No. I gave it to Ryan Morton.

It was a gift.

Can you prove that?

No. Have you found him yet?

We got a broadcast out.

And he'll turn up. Hagan said he found him.

Here's what I think happened.

I think Hagan told you he
found Ryan in Las Vegas,

but then he decided he wanted more money

than you agreed upon for delivery.

So you arranged to meet Hagan in his car,

but you weren't gonna be
jerked around anymore.

That's why you decided
to bring your gun. No.

There's a struggle.

He grabs the gun, and bam!

I had nothing to do with that! Hey,
hey, hey, hey.

We understand that sometimes

things just get out of control.

But you need to be truthful.

If you did not intend

to shoot him... I did not shoot him!

Then you tell me what happened.

Look, I met Ryan...

at a tennis club in Tahoe.

He grew up in Tonopah,
not far from where I did.

He was developing a lot of real estate.

He was very ambitious.

I lost my boy years ago in a divorce,

and Ryan told me that his
father had abandoned his family

before he was born.

I gave him the gun for his birthday.

And then he got you to
give him some real money.

He said he needed a completion loan

for a house he was gonna flip.

$175,000.

And I find out one day

he left town.

Didn't even have a title to the house.

Why didn't you go to the police?

I'm a cardiac surgeon.

My patients, my staff--

they have to have confidence in my judgment.

If they'd heard that I've
been played like a rube...

Do you wear contact lenses?

Yes. Why?

DNA sample.

I'm gonna need one.

Take whatever you need.

Ray, excuse me.

Could you come in here for a minute?

You need to see this.

It's a person of interest

in that motel murder I was working on.

That looks like my 419, Carsten Pennington.

It is. And it isn't.

Hey, do either one of
you recognize this guy--

Ryan Morton?

Hey, Nick. Yeah?

The DNA from the doctor
didn't match the sample

from the contact lens,
and then CODIS drew a blank,

so just to be thorough,

I ran it against all the
other case profiles.

And you got a match? I got a sibling match.

That contact lens DNA had
seven alleles in common

with Carsten Pennington.

AKA Tripp Linson.

AKA Ryan Morton.

He's got a brother.

Who just might be our killer.

Gareth Morton? The brother's name is Gareth?

Yes, like the cat.

And the tortoise.

And the dog.

Some people.

It's no surprise when they end up dead.

We checked the local records in Tonopah.

Ryan and Gareth Morton own a house

that was left to them

by their mother.

We tried to contact Gareth there.

No answer. Local PD couldn't find him.

I had Archie go back over the surveillance

at Carsten's cocktail party

and guess what?

We found Gareth.

That places Gareth in Las Vegas the night

of Carsten's murder.

Okay.

Quick timeline...

Jena Makin

sees her old flame Tripp

in a Vegas magazine.

She makes a last-ditch attempt for love.

She finds Tripp and throws herself at him.

Unfortunately, he's not Tripp anymore.

He's Carsten Pennington, art dealer,

living in a rented mansion,

so he claims he doesn't recognize her.

And Jena goes back to the motel

and blows her brains out.

A day later, a PI tracking down

real estate fraudster Ryan Morton

meets his brother Gareth and

probably by accident,

Gareth kills the PI in his car.

Then, later that night,

Gareth shows up at Carsten's party--

uninvited, no doubt--

smashes his head in,

dumps him in the pool.

And brother Gareth's in the wind.

His description's out on broadcast.

But right now, that's about
all we can do. If he's smart,

he's not in the country.

Apparently, he's not that smart.

Speeding, Gareth, is a crime.

And when you have a bench warrant

for a couple unpaid parking tickets,

that gets you a couple of
days lockup in Pahrump.

What do you think this gets you?

Check this out.

Look closely.

That's your contact lens.

That's your DNA on a dead guy.

Want to tell me how it got there?

Hagan came to see me in Tonopah,

four days ago.

He slapped me.

Now, why would he go and
do a mean thing like that?

'Cause he wanted 175K

that Ryan stole from his client.

I-I told Hagan I hadn't
heard from Ryan in years.

That his debts weren't my problem.

Hmm.

And he said, oh, well, they were now

because Ma left him half of the house.

They put a lien on it.

He told me that Ryan was living in Vegas

under the name Carsten Pennington,

and he was living in a mansion

and rolling in dough.

So, there you are,
sitting up in a shack in Tonopah,

in a house you don't even own

free and clear because of
your brother and Mr. Hagan.

That must have chapped your ass, huh?

Yeah, that house should have been mine.

31 years I lived in that house with Ma.

Hauled her to church,

to the beauty parlor,

even changed her diapers in the end.

And all she ever talked about was Ryan.

Sure, okay.

So you left for Vegas, you know, with the

"Mom always loved you best" rage, right?

Then what? You found Hagan and killed him?

I didn't kill Hagan.

Look, I went to see Ryan.

I hung outside his-his party

until all the other guests had left,

and then I asked him to
quitclaim the house to me.

Why the hell should I?

Mom wanted me to have half.

I'm not gonna deny her dying wish.

You never gave a rat's ass about her.

Every-every birthday, every Christmas

she was waiting for a card
or a phone call or something.

And never, not one word from you.

And still, you were all
she was thinking about.

So I'm supposed to feel guilty

because you decided to chain
yourself to that sadistic bitch?

After all the things she did to us?

You want to know why I was her favorite?

Because I had the guts to get out.

To live my own life.

Hell, I've lived five lives.

You didn't have the guts to live one.

Then what?

And then... I left.

You left? You just walked away?

Why?

Because he was right about me-- I'm weak.

What do you mean?

When we were growing up, you know,

all the kids in the neighborhood
crowded around him, and...

...I just faded into his shadow.

He had this charisma.

He was electric.

And even after all this went down,

I still... I still loved him.

I just didn't have the courage to tell him.

Isn't this sweet?

He drives Mommy's old
Cutlass to go commit murder.

Okay, this is everything Gareth had on him

or with him at the time he was arrested.

One contact lens missing.

That's bad news for Gareth.

What do we have here?

This is about a hundred grand.

Maybe he figures a car
trunk is safer than a 401.

These days, he's probably right.

These are Burberrys.

Everything else here is from
Dempsey's bargain basement.

What's a half-broke kid from Tonopah

doing in a $50 pair of underwear?

I think I can answer that.

Because the body we fished out
of Carsten Pennington's pool

was wearing Dempsey's underwear.

We found a hundred grand in your car.

Ryan gave it to me.

Why didn't you tell us about it?

Taxes.

I didn't want to pay taxes on it.

I'm sure Ryan didn't.

Ryan wouldn't sign a
quitclaim for the house,

and he gives you $100,000 free and clear?

That sounds a tad inconsistent.

Look, I don't pretend to
understand my brother.

All right?

But why-why would I kill him
when he gave me that money?

Look, all brothers fight.

I threw my brother through a screen door.

He broke a bowl of oatmeal on my head.

But I can't imagine killing him.

So, help me understand.

I think this thing started
in the house in Tonopah,

and ended in that swimming pool.

He's going to go down for this, Darcy.

The only question is,
are you going to go down with him?

If I were you, I would take a hard look

at that bimbo of his.

What's her name, Darcy?

When Ryan gave me the cash, she freaked out.

She was really pissed,

and there was murder in her eyes.

You guys should check her out.

That's not Gareth.

It's Carsten.

Every Christmas and birthday

she'd wait for a card or
a phone call, something.

Not one word, ever.

And still... you were all

she thought about at the end.

I said shut up!

Carsten?

He said that Gareth
threatened to kill us both.

That there was no other way out.

He took Gareth's identity

and said he'd come back for me.

And I believed him.

It's not true what my brother says about me.

I tried to make amends,
but he wouldn't let me.

Here, Ma.

I want you to have this.

Ryan, I can't.

What the hell is that?

We don't need your help.

We're getting by just fine.

What, on your-your lousy, uh, $450 a week?

You're lucky Mom's here, or I'd...

What? Boys, don't fight.

You haven't changed a bit.

Don't forget your money.

You need it more than us.

It's the, uh... only thing you ever loved.

Wow...

That is so... sad.

What old movie did you steal it from?

Well, you're just one lie
wrapped in another, huh?

It's the truth.

I swear to God.

Even if it never happened.