All language subtitles for CSI 3x15 - Lady Heathers Box.EN

Go ahead.

Turn around.

Go ahead.

Next.

Turn around.

(beeping)

My kitty's pierced.

Want to see?

DJ: Party people,
brothers and sisters...

angels, devils...

virgins and sinners,

let the foam take you away
to your deepest desires.

Cleanse yourself.

There's no turning back now.

(screaming)

Ever been
to a foam party?

What do you think?

Things can get pretty wild.

Evidently.

You got an I.D.
On this guy?

Yeah, the deceased
is Trey Buchman.

Age 21.
I got a Vegas I.D.

Eyewitnesses?

Uh, too much foam.

The party was over.

Most of the responsible
young adults had split.

It's amazing how the sight
of blood can clear a room.

Yeah. I'll tell you
what we got.

My guys are talking with
the girl who found the body,

but even sober, she's
not going to be much help.

Wonder what made this wound?

Looks like a puncture.

Ice pick, maybe?

Well, wow, tell you
it's not for the money.

I got about

three grand here,
all in O-notes.

Proves the old adage.

Which adage is that?

You can't take it with you.

Foam at the Sinner's Den.

I hung out here
a few times.

Never been.

Your knucklehead boyfriend never
took you on the party circuit?

Uh, pass.

That's cool about Vegas.

It's Monday:
Rain at the Palms,

Tuesday: EDEN at Studio 54,

Wednesday:
RAW at the Luxor,

Thursday's Baby's...

Hey, look.
Some kid dropped dead.

It's a shame.

Kids OD all the time
in nightclubs.

They're big boys and girls.

This ain't church.
I understand that.

You understand.
You know the kind of rent I pay

on a joint like this?
Rain or shine,

I owe the landlord $50,000.

You're breaking my heart, pal.

Look, here's how this works.

The more you cooperate

the sooner you'll
be up and running.

You don't get it.
No, I get it.

I got a daughter who's 20,
she hangs out.

I don't want her to die
in a place like this,

so do me a favor,

get me the VIP list
for tonight.

And smarten up.

There's seminal fluid

all over the place.

Is this a dance club
or a sex club?

It's a little
of both.

Don't you love
this town?

Whatever you say, Superfly.

(sniffing)

You guys smell that?

Mm-hmm.

Smells like strawberries.

It's the foam.

Reminds me of the Mirage.

Steve Wynn didn't like the smell
of the volcano erupting,

so he changed the fuel mixture.

Now it smells like
a pi~a colada.

Hey.

I got a line
on our vic.

Trey Buchman,
booked a room at the Sphere.

E-Wing, room 937.

These people are freaks.

Got a long dark hair.

Vic had short hair.

One of our freaks
wears pussycat pink.

The battle was fierce.

The evil sorceress had

powerful magic,
but the prince

was brave and true.

Finally, the brave prince slew
the dragon

and went to awaken
his beloved princess.

You're late, Eddie.

Don't start.

He climbed the many stairs
to the top...

You know how much

this meant to Lindsey?

Can we argue
about this later, okay?

Her eyes would open
with true love's kiss.

She's so beautiful.

Give me that.

The evil spell
was finally broken.

Nice perfume.

(sighing)

My...

Okay.

Fine.

Is this okay?

My prince...

(loud clanking)

My prince...

at long last,
you have come for me.

My...

My, my prince...

At long last,

you have come
for me.

I'm sorry, baby.
You did good, though.

Yeah, you were fine,
Linds. Good.

Hey, and you know what?

It's just a play.

No, it's not just a play.

I was Sleeping Beauty

and you guys
ruined it.

I'm sorry, honey.

Hey, I'll bet
if you ask

Mrs. Parker, she'd let you keep

that blue dress.

I want to go home.

Okay.

Let's go home.

No, Mom.

I want to go with Dad.

You sure about that?

Okay.

Tox report
on your foam guy

came back negative.

Negative?

No drugs,
no alcohol,

no medication,
not even an aspirin.

That's odd.

It was a den of iniquity.

What about the neck wound?

The sternocleidomastoid

muscle and the jugular
vein were lacerated.

The wound was a bloody mess,
probably lethal.

Any idea what caused it?

Hard to say.

Definitely an odd
entry wound.

Not a knife or sharp object.

Probably something blunt,
like a pen

or a stake
of some sort.

Anything else?

Check this out.

Looks like a bite.

Spider bite

or allergic reaction, maybe?

Stand by.

I'll process the tissue
in histopath,

see if it's worth
writing home about.

I was wondering

where I put my nice
silver satin thong.

Gloves.

Okay, we're looking for
any kind of blunt object

that could've
been used

to stab our victim in the neck.

Glow stick.

Ball-point pen.

Cell phone antenna.

You have the Luminol?

Thank you.

Nothing.

Are we sure
it was a blunt object?

Size ten, double A.

Stilettos, huh?

Brings out the toes,
accentuates the legs.

Murder on the
ankles, though.

Looks like murder to me.

Sinner's Den, SRO...

I'm on every club's
VIP list.

Well, you got lucky.

You're on my list now.

I don't want to be
on your list.

Here, hold this.
(scoffs)

Nice shoes.

Thank you.

Okay, this is the story.

One of you lovely Cinderellas
is missing a glass slipper

and I'm playing the prince.

So would each of you

remove your right shoe, please?

Doesn't fit.

Almost.

Hi.

No.

Well, if the shoe fits...

Wear it.

(thunder rumbling)

Comfortable?

So far.

Thanks for asking.

You want to tell me
how your shoe ended up

in Trey Buchman's neck?

I don't know.

Last I remember,
the foam was rising...

and my heel went into
something... soft.

Thought it was someone's foot.

Jugular.

There's a slight difference.

Do you want to tell me

why you left
your shoe behind?

Heel broke.

And the fact it had blood on it,
that wasn't the reason?

Never saw blood.

I see.

I did some checking...

because that's what I do...

and you and our victim
had a relationship a while back.

I've "relationshipped" about
a dozen guys on the circuit,

including Trey.

Nothing ends... we still all
meet up at the club.

I see.

And the way he
gave it to me,

believe me,

he's the last guy
I'd want dead.

(clears throat)

Excuse me, Jim.

Am I interrupting something?

Gil, please.

Miss...
(donning rubber gloves)

I'm going to need
a sample of your DNA.

How do you want it?

I like your hair.

I like yours.

Are you a, uh, natural blonde?

Ow.

Sorry.

I needed a
follicular tag.

(envelope rustles)

Thank you.

Gil?

Any chance you found my thong?

Silver lam\,

probably twisted in knots.

Oh, yeah, we did.

You'll need to fill
out a form, though.

The captain will help you.

Surely.

(opera playing
over headphones)

Hey, Gil?

(opera music continues)

Carmen?

(music playing loudly)

Right after the murder.

Opera makes it all
seem so lovely.

And at the risk

of sounding
like your mother,

you're going to
ruin your eardrums.

(turns music off)

Our victim's tissue...
Trey Buchman.

The, uh, circular
contusions

I sectioned,
indicate damage

extending only
30 microns below
the epidermis.

So it's not a bug bite.

Man-made, high-pressure,
subcutaneous injector.

No needle?

Simply high pressure

penetrating the skin.

Did you send a sample to tox?

Our victim was injected
with insulin.

Diabetic?

Nope.

So cause of death
was insulin shock.

Insulin doesn't make

for a narcotic
or hallucinogenic high

so I don't know
why Buchman

would take the stuff.

Downstairs neighbor smelled it.

Called the plumber.

Yeah, they always think
it's a sewage problem.

(cell phone ringing)
Phew!

Eddie?

Ed? Hello?

Uh... bad connection, Ed.

Uh, I just
entered a scene.

L-I'll call
you later.

Whew.

No pain,

no gain.

Purge fluid.

D.U.N.S.

Dead Upstairs Neighbor Syndrome.

Mm-hmm.
Yeah, well,

it's going to take us
a while

to get this smell
out of our nose hairs.

Parchment changes
of the skin.

So what's the exposure
to that window, south?

East.

Gets direct sunlight
half the day.

I learned that down
in Lauderdale.

You know, you've got to remember
to turn.

Right, all that
spring break activity

with your frat brothers.

Well, something like that.

Nice little
cocaine fingernail.

So... no mail built up.

I don't see a telephone.

What do you think?
(cell phone ringing)

Howard Hughes in
a studio apartment?

Eddie?

Ed?

Now what's his deal?

Lindsey's with him.

Maybe she's ready
to come home.

Yeah, I bet.

How you doing?

Cash and a very busy

passport.

Designer threads.

Ten-to-one, Croix Richards
is a drug dealer.

And that is no
workout accident.

(cell phone ringing)

Eddie?

Eddie, you've got to get
to a land line.

This connection sucks.

Mommy... (static)

Lindsey?

H-Honey,

l-I can't hear you.

Mommy... please... scared...
all alone. (crying)

You're alone?

Well, honey, where's Daddy?

Daddy... (static)

You want me to just...?
Uh...

Thanks... uh, yeah, honey.

Yes, yes, I'm coming.

Mommy, please!

I'm scared... all alone!

We were in the car, going fast.

We hit something.

It's going to be okay, honey.

I'm on my way.

I just need to know
where you are.

I don't know.

There's lots of water.

Are you near a lake?

Are you near Grandma's house?

No, the water's in the car.

In the car?

Lindsey, can you get out?

No.

It's going to be okay, honey.

Just listen to me.

Before the car crashed,
where were you going?

Daddy said the hospital.

On the way there,
did you see any hotels?

I saw the castle.

Excalibur.

Did you see, did you see
the pyramid?

Yeah.

Industrial Road?

Is that, is that it?

Lindsey, is it Industrial Road?

There was a bridge.

We went through a fence.

(static)
Lindsey?

Damn it!

Lindsey!

Lindsey!

(crying)

Hang on, honey!

Mommy!
I'm here, honey.

Mommy!
I'm going to
get you out.

Hang on.

Okay.

Listen. I have to break
the window, okay?

You've got to move

to the front.

Mommy, I can't!

I'm scared.

Okay, I'm going
to come around, okay?

I'm coming around.

Please, Mommy.

I'm here, Lindsey!

I'm going to go down.

I'm going to go down.

(gasping, coughing)

You all right?
You okay?

Mommy.
Yes?

I got you.
Hold on.

The lady who was driving
had pink hair.

I don't remember her name.

But Lindsey,

it was your father's car.

Why wasn't he driving it?

He had a stomachache.

(man groaning)

Hang on. We'll get
to the hospital.

I can't make it.

(tires screeching)

The lady got out,

and then Daddy fell out.

He didn't come back.

Catherine?

Is Eddie the kind of guy

that would leave his daughter
abandoned in the back of a car?

Never, never,
never, no.

He loves Lindsey.
He'd never do that.

Not willingly.

(hydraulic lift whirring)

Be very gentle with
this car, guys.

Mom?

He's dead, isn't he?

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

I'm going to
go look for
him, though.

I'm just going to
be right over there.

Okay, that's enough.

I want you to stay here
with Detective Vega.

Okay?

How you doing?

Drugs.

Knowing Eddie's taste
in women, I'd say

that's a good bet.

Hey, Catherine,
you want to give me that?

You shouldn't be
handling evidence.

You're not on the case.

Stop it right there.

Hey, Doc.

Hey.

I thought I'd come
and get an update on...

Stinky here.

Whew!

Wow, that's horrible.

I'm generally immune to
the stench of a decomp,

but, uh, two weeks of decay
still tickles the vibrassae

of my nasal vestibule.

Yeah, I'll say.

Hey, what's the
foreign body

lodged in his femur?

Crank up the milliamps.

Whiter than bone.

Dense like a metal.

What exactly are we looking at?

Let's find out.

Whew!

I feel like Androcles

pulling the thorn
from a lion's paw.

Looks like the tip
of a needle.

It probably broke off
when it hit the bone.

I've started to see
into the future.

Thanks to credit
card reports, I see

that our phone victim
booked a room

at the Tangiers for tonight.

He was staying
at the Sphere.

Two hotel rooms
in one night.

He was a busy boy.

Hello.

Hello.

You're late.

Not-not that I mind.

There's two of you?

We work as a team.

What's in the kit?

Latex gloves, cotton swabs,
specimen jars,

other evidence-gathering stuff.

Wait a minute.

Uh, what's going on here?

You tell us.

Oh, my God.

You guys are cops.

I'm, um...

I'm really embarrassed.

I've never done anything
like this before.

I
swear.

This room is registered
to Trey Buchman.

Who are you?

Do we have to do names?

Uh-huh.

Rebecca McCormick.

Look, I got a number from a guy

who was giving out these cards
on the Strip.

I thought it would be fun.

L-I don't know
what I was thinking.

Am I under arrest?

Not yet.

(beeping and whirring)

Hey.

Cracked my D.B.'s laptop.

Got his appointment book.

Women's names.

Hotels.

Blocks of time.

You know,
Croix had this sweet apartment

and this wad of cash.

We thought
he was selling drugs.

He was selling himself.

Gigolo.

Paid to get laid.

So was mine.

Two victims,

same profession.

Ooh.

What about the needle
you found in the decomp?

The micrometer pegged it
as a 30-gauge.

Insulin dependents use needles
that thin.

Well, the decomp's too severe.

We'll never get anything
out of tox or the needle.

I think
we're working the same case.

Well, good thing
my gigolo was organized.

He used accounting software
to keep track of his finances.

Employment history?

(clears throat)

(doorbell rings)

(man screams in distance)

Mr. Grissom,
Captain Brass,

(screaming continues)
So nice to see you again.

Good to hear things haven't
changed around here.

I see you haven't
changed, either.

Trey Buchman,
Croix Richards.

They're both on my payroll.

Hard workers,
quite skilled.

They're deceased.

They'll be missed.

Last year,
you lost Mona Taylor.

Now, two more employees.

It's a risky business.

Accusation?

It's an observation.

These guys traded in sex,

and I know
you don't allow intercourse

in your domain.

Now, that is an accusation.

I profit from
the theatrics
of pleasure,

allowing people
to play out
their fantasies.

Trey and Croix

were independent
contractors.

Lady Heather,

what services did they provide?

Bad little
pig boy.

Bad, bad, bad.

...you naughty,
bad pig.

(whip cracking)

Oinky, sloppy pig.

(music playing)

You've been a bad, bad girl.

You're right.

I deserve to be punished.

Sit up straight.

Yes.

Sit up straight.

Like this?

Here it comes.

Say you're sorry.

I'm sorry.

(whip cracking)

My dominion is also my domain.

Lady heather. Com.

So, Buchman and Richards were
down here

doing Internet porn, huh?

Not porn.

Voyeurism in a brave new world.

What would Aldous Huxley say?

If his credit card were valid,
he could say anything

he wanted at $3.95 a minute.

Do you like my lipstick?

(man groaning)

Why?

You've been staring at my lips.

You have lovely lips.

Like that.
Just like that.

And a very successful business.

Thanks. Thanks for your time.

See you soon.

So, after
your recital,

where did your dad take you?

Leatherbey's.

He got me a banana split.

I like whipped cream on mine.

Did he have
anything to drink?

Did he have a beer,
a glass of wine?

Just water.

So, it was just the two of you?

This lady
you told us about...

the one who was driving,

the one with the pink hair...
where did you meet her?

I don't know.

You remember, Lindsey.

Just think about it.

I fell asleep in the car,

and I woke up
when we stopped.

Was this at a house?

No. It was a building.

Was it an apartment building,

maybe, or maybe
an office building?

I don't know.

Why did you stop there?

Daddy said he had a meeting.
He told me

to stay in the car and
keep the doors locked.

You mean he left you
in the car alone.
Catherine...

Mom, Mom, it's okay.

I said
I could take care of myself.

I told him
I could stay
in the car.

Just don't be mad at him.

He didn't do anything wrong.

It's okay, Lindsey.

Nobody's mad at anybody.

Can I talk to you
for a second?

It's okay.

This lady was
at the building?

She was outside
in the parking lot.

Eddie.

Candeece! Baby!

Where were you?
What's the matter, honey?

Sugar, what's the
matter with you?

Oh!

This lady
with the pink hair...

was she your father's
girlfriend?

I called you
a million times!

What are you
talking about?

Why didn't you
answer your phone?

Maybe.

Well, he was mad at her.

And then they,
they were running

back to the car.

Daddy was holding his stomach.

(groaning)

Daddy, what's wrong?

It's just a stomachache, honey.

I'll be fine.

(phone ringing)

Willows.

Yeah.

Catherine,
you can't say good-bye

in an autopsy room.

Hi, uh...

Croix Richards
and Trey Buchman.

Same profession,
same employer,

same cause of death.

Yeah.
Insulin poisoning.

Not your typical
male MO.

Lady Heather
a suspect?

I can't rule
anybody out.

Catherine... I'm sorry
about Eddie and your daughter.

Lf, if you'd like to take
some time off or...

I'm okay.

Lindsey's...

We're okay.

Hey, Catherine.

Hey.

We heard about
what happened.

I'm so sorry.

Yeah, if you
or Lindsey

need anything
at all...

Thanks, you guys.

Why don't you
catch us up.

Yeah.

Credit card
transactions

for Lady Heather's
Web Site.

Both our victims
worked in the chat room.

We cross-referenced

their clients.

They're
all ladies.

And looks like
both victims

died approximately

four weeks
apart.

Killers
usually don't

stray too far from home.

Especially for
repeat crimes.

Yeah, I'm squeezing
the Las Vegas search area.

Got a vial full
of blue boogers.

GHB with food coloring.

That's a date rape
drug.

Not anymore.

You mix it with
the right stimulant,

like meth, you got
a great party drug.

Everyone's
a chemist.

Thanks.

You know, we found
a dark hair

in Trey Buchman's hotel room
at the Sphere.

I'll exclude everyone
with light hair.

Whoa.

Stop.

Huh.

Rebecca McCormick.
235 Desert Ranch Road.

First time, my ass.

Hi.
Sorry to keep you waiting.

So, what can
I do to help out

the Las Vegas
Crime Lab?

You could tell us about

your relationship
with Croix Richards.

Well, uh, I hired
Croix Richards

to dominate Rebecca.

Would you like

a chocolate?

Uh, they're Godiva.

No, thanks.

I guess you
could say

that Mr. Richards
worked for me.

We were hoping that

he might help ease
some of Rebecca's

sexual difficulties.

Extra-marital sex
to help your

relationship problems?

The problem wasn't
with our relationship,

it was with
my wife's

lack of experience.

Which Mr. Richards

helped you with?

Yes.

First over the Internet and
then we, uh, we met with him

a few times.

We?

Yeah, yes.

I participated
in the sessions, yes.

Do you take this man
to be your wedded husband?

Love honor and obey.

Say it!

And these sessions

were held
at Lady Heather's?

Yes.

Lady Heather thought it would
be best if I was involved.

I'm sure secrets would've

made the problem worse,
at that point.

Mrs. McCormick, did
you meet Trey Buchman

at Lady Heather's?

Oh, I'm sorry, who?

He worked for
Lady Heather as well.

He's also dead.

Oh...

I don't know
who Trey Buchman is.

Your wife does.
Oh.

I met Trey
on Lady Heather's Web Site.

Our encounters
were only on-line.

Like this?

Is this okay?

No, it's not okay!

Don't you know how to listen,
you stupid bitch?!

And the night
you and I met

at the Tangiers?

Croix was fun.

Uh, I wanted more experience.
Variation.

I made a date
with Trey.

He never
showed up.

Well, Mrs. McCormick,

I'd like to get
a sample

of your hair and DNA

for comparison.

Rebecca will give you
anything

that you need.

(bowl clanks)

(jackhammer pounding)

Yeah, I can put you in touch
with her manager, Eddie Willows.

Guy owes me
a call.

Make that five calls.

If you talk to him,

tell him he's got,
like, eight hours

of studio fees due.

The penalties are running, okay?

We've already seen him.
He's in the morgue.

Oh, that makes sense
why he wasn't

here last night.

High-strung singer,

no manager,
that's always trouble.

A trail of tears

It takes me back
to all my fears...

I hate this!

This sucks!

Okay?

Where is Eddie?

I need Eddie here.

Get back in the booth.

Where are you?

I need you here now.

I cannot do this
without help.

Can I have a little
privacy, please?

Would you go in there
and learn how to do your job?

It sounds terrible
in there, anyways.

She started ragging on me.

I didn't need the hot air,
so I came back in.

That's a cut, Enrique.

Let's take it from the bridge.

Eddie was just in it
for the quick score.

Out a demo,
sell a contract,

get a ride on the charts
and you just ride that wave.

This girl was different.

Yeah, he was banging her.

Yeah, but he had
something for her,

knowing how much
potential she had.

I never seen Eddie so dedicated.

Nothing was going to stop him
from making her a star.

Except maybe a.22 round
in his gut.

Stop, stop, stop.
That's a cut, Enrique.

Whoa. It sounds good from where
I'm standing... what's up?

The problem isn't
the vocals, man,

it's the extra bass line
I keep getting

from the Village People outside

with that damn
jackhammer.

All right, Enrique,

let's pick it up
from the second chorus.

Aren't recording studios
supposed to be soundproof?

Lady, if the guy
standing next to you

is Olive Davis,
instead of a cop,

it would be.

After Candeece left, did
you guys keep recording?

Um, yeah, a few more hours.

We were redoing a drum track.

We're going to need
to take a look at those tapes.

Okay, the hair on the left

is from Trey Buchman's room
at the Sphere hotel.

The hair on the right

is a sample we took
from Rebecca McCormick.

Cuticles on both
are shiny and smooth.

Telltale signs
the hair has been treated.

The cortex isn't letting
any light through.

It lets us know
the hair's been colored.

The medullas are continuous.

I can't be definitive
without DNA,

but, uh, both hairs
are consistent.

They look like
Rebecca McCormick's.

So she lied
to you guys

at the hotel,
she lied to us at the house.

She's been with him,

not just online.

But her husband

only knew about
the guy he hired,

Croix Richards.

He had no idea
that she hired Trey Buchman.

Steven McCormick wanted
his wife to have a session.

It's not uncommon.

When a client
achieves liberation,

they often want their spouse
to share that feeling.

Though in this
particular instance

I advised the husband
to pursue avenues more suited

to the temperament
of his marriage.

Well, I guess
you couldn't say no.

I learned that Mr. McCormick

is an investor
in your Internet site.

That's a matter
of public record.

Did he ever tell
you, specifically,

what his wife's
problem was?

The fault lay
not in his wife

but in himself.

Steven believed
his wife

was repressed, but
once she opened up...

A Pandora's Box?

All the evils of
their marriage unleashed?

May I?

You may.

Thank you,
Lady Heather.

Steven came to me
three years ago

in a state of confusion.

I helped him clarify
his need for dominance.

You will control her
only as well

as you can read her.

Now read.

Our work enabled him to marry.

But he chose a woman
who didn't understand

the dynamics of a dominant-
submissive relationship.

Unfortunately, the
language we speak in here

doesn't necessarily translate
to the world out there.

No, in here, the submissive
has the power.

All he has to do
is say the safety word

and everything stops.

Very good, Mr. Grissom.

I'm just repeating
what I've heard.

You're a good listener.

Part of the job.

So this is work?

Yes.

But I value your insight.

I'm flattered.

But you already seem to know
the answers to your questions.

You keep me in proximity
when I walk away

and when I'm close,
you watch my lips.

Are you losing your hearing?

I'm losing my balance.

Your sense of self?

No.

I know who I am.

Do you?

Yes, I do.

You can always say stop.

So can you.

Eddie's my manager.

It's no big secret.

We were supposed to be
working last night,

and the jerk
blew me off.

So you never saw him
last night?

No.
What happened
to your wrist?

Oh, uh...

I got, uh...

um...

Because, uh,
according

to Desert Palms
Emergency Room,

you came in last night
with a fracture of the ulna.

It's a common injury

in car accidents...
air bag specific.

Air bags are packed

with cornstarch or talc.

It helps them deploy.

It also wreaks havoc
on the eyes.

We know you saw
Eddie last night.

We know that you
were driving his car.

It all happened so fast,

you know?

One minute I was,
I was just outside

getting some air
and thinking, you know?

And then... the next,

my manager is stumbling
towards me, bleeding.

(gunshot)

Candeece, baby,
I'm shot!

Eddie! Oh, my God!

(gasping)
I'll get you
in the car.

Everything's going
to be okay, honey.

Okay, don't be afraid.

Sounds pretty heroic.

Not really.

When you're intimate
with somebody,

you can't imagine
life without them.

We were partners.

I
loved
him.

I thought I was going to die.

There were two other
people in the car.

That's what I meant, you know?

I thought we were
all
going to die.

Search and Rescue
found Eddie's body

100 yards downstream.

See, that's where it gets
a little less heroic...

we found Lindsey
alone

in a sinking car.

I tried to get Eddie out.

He was unconscious,
and that... that kid

kept screaming.

The current was really strong
and we got swept downstream.

What was I supposed to do?

Get to a phone, call the
cops, call an ambulance,

anything, actually,
other than what you did.

I am just one person.

Eddie is my priority,
not that...

that stupid, screaming
little brat.

I tried, I...

You even think about
my daughter again,
I'll kill you.

I will kill you.

I will hunt you
down and put...

I will put you
in the ground!
Catherine.

You saw that.

She threatened me!

I want a lawyer.

What the hell
are you doing?

Do you know where
you're at right now?

I've been here a
lot
longer than you...

And you should
know better.

And I wouldn't
have to be here

if you were doing
your job properly.

There is a difference
between me doing my job

and you wanting to do it for me.

You don't want
to get the job done.

What you want, right now,
is revenge.

You're going to tell me
what I want, huh?

Go home, Catherine.

Be with your daughter.

She's the one
that needs you.

What did you consider this?

A little civility
before work, I think?

Or a ritual to
put us at ease.

Or how about "In
custom and ceremony,

are innocence
and beauty born."

Yeats...

"Prayer for My Daughter."

Or our morning.

Cream?

Please.

Thank you.

Sugar?

I'm diabetic.

Type One?

Mm-hmm.

Injections.

Used to mean injections.

I changed to a pressure syringe.

Recently?

Mm, a few weeks ago.

Oh, it's a fascinating
instrument;

would you like to see it?

Yes, I would.

But I'm afraid
I'll need a warrant.

Excuse me.

It's Grissom.

I need you to write paper

on Lady Heather's
medical paraphernalia...

specifically, an insulin kit
and syringes.

I'm already there.

I'll wait.

I think I just heard
you say "stop."

You lied to us,
Mrs. McCormick.

You said

you only engaged
in on-line sex
with Trey Buchman.

Your hair has
a similar morphology

to the hair that we found
in Mr. Buchman's hotel suite.

Well, "similar"
doesn't mean me.

No, but the DNA
we also recovered

from under the sheets
does mean you.

Sounds like
a physical encounter to me.

So, since I pay for sex,

I must also be a murderer?

No, it's just that everybody
you pay for sex ends up dead.

I don't like you.

Well, I guess I'll have
to live with that.

Here's something else
you might not like.

Two months ago,
your bank records

show cash withdrawals
totaling $50,000.

The same amount
that we found

in Croix Richards' apartment.

Croix wasn't even
half that good.

Of course, that's
still better
than my husband.

You used to work for
Latona Pharmaceuticals, right?

Years ago.

You sold synthetic insulin.

All right. Mm-hmm.

We've had our fun, but
I'm stopping it now.

Any other questions
you have

can be directed
to my lawyer.

Well, modern recording's
all digital

so each track's recorded
in a separate data file.

By looking
at the file modification times,

we can approximate
which tracks were recorded

near the time
of the shooting.

Catherine left Eddie
at 5:30 p.m.

Lindsey's first call
was logged at 10:55.

Let's see, well...

only two tracks were laid down
during that time interval.

"7:41: Acoustic guitar...

10:38: Drum track."

Let's look at the drum track.

(medium-tempo drumbeat
playing)

There's the kit drum.

So any irregularity
in the pattern

could be from
an outside source.

Yeah.

Right here.

A sudden change
in amplitude.

Can you isolate it?

Yeah.

(distant bang amid drumming)

Sounds like gunfire.

I'll play it again.

(distant bang amid drumming)

Let me take out
the drums.

(two distant bangs)

(faint whirring)

What is that?

Feels like an engine.

V-twin, maybe a Harley.

Must have been
somebody else there.

You think
we got a witness?

Or a suspect.

Hey...

I was able to pull

the phone records
for Candeece.

She made six calls that night.

The first five went to Eddie.

But not the last one.

You got an address?

I get all kind of calls.

It could've been a girl
that I slept with.

Or a girl that
I didn't sleep with.

Could've been
a wrong number.

Since when do wrong
numbers last for
four minutes?

You hear a sexy voice
on the phone,

what are you gonna do,
you gonna hang up?

So you do remember
the call.

I like your Harley.

Look, Kiner,

you're on parole;
you got no rights.

Looking at two strikes.

I'm not trying to
pull a fast ball

on you, but it's
not the first time

you've talked
to Candeece.

So maybe me and Candy
are friends.

Were
friends.

You guys used to talk
once a day.

Then she stopped calling you,
until last night.

People change.

Fell into
a bad element.

Mr. Kiner, do you
own this house?

My father left it
to me.

Your father have a drug problem?

We found GHB in your garage.

"Georgia Home Boy."

Tell us what happened
with Eddie.

Candy needed help.

Hey, hey, hey!

What are you doing here?

What are you selling
her drugs for?

What are you doing?

I wanted you clean.

Hey, please...

What do you want,
huh?

This what you want?

(gunshot)

I got on my hog.

I got the hell
out of there.

What do you expect me
to do?

Go back to the joint
for her?

Cuff him.

Quid pro quo, right?

Steven invests
in your business,

you kill the two guys
who are messing around
with his wife.

I could help you,
Mr. Brass...

with your inadequacy.

You know,
I'd like that, Lady H.

It's tough being me.

I'd like to feel
more secure

in my role
as a homicide detective.

But you know what really
gets me wild?

The truth.

Are you up for that?

(over speaker)
Mr. Grissom collected samples

of my insulin.

He's undoubtedly identified it
as non-synthetic.

He told me it was
beef insulin.

Which, I take it,

matches the insulin
found in the two victims.

Do you know

that only seven percent of
diabetics in this country

use an animal-based
insulin?

And you import yours
from Great Britain.

Which narrows the field
down even further.

Right into
your dominion.

My personal area is open.

Anyone could've walked right in
and stolen from me.

Is it something
I said?

I'm disappointed in you.

But not surprised.

You fear me...

because I've committed
the one unforgivable act.

No, it's more
like two acts...

of murder.

I know you.

And I know that
in your heart,

you don't believe
I did this.

Lady Heather...

this has nothing
to do with heart.

It's all about
the evidence.

Greg...

I need you to process these
right away.

Priority.

Grissom!

We got a problem.

Stranglings
are intimate.

Crime of passion.

Or not.

Mr. McCormick...

were you the one
who found your wife?

Yes.

On the stairs?

Yes.

May I see your
hands, please?

Other side.

They look clean.

Mm.

Should they be?

I don't know.

If it were my spouse,
I would've touched the body.

Mm. I didn't.

Kiner is a drug dealer.

Your drug dealer.

No. Not anymore.

Eddie got me off
all that stuff.

You called Kiner.

He came here.

I tried to call Eddie.

He had his phone off.

He was with his
pain-in-the-ass daughter

and that psycho
ex-wife of his.

I was just alone in
front of a microphone

with my whole career
riding on a demo.

It's none of your business.

Hey, Eddie.

What?
(gunshot)

(grunts)
Oh, my God!

I thought Eddie wasn't coming.

I guess he was just late.

The material we found in
Rebecca McCormick's wound

was nylon thread
with fragments of
ostrich feather.

Oh, I know that look.

We're going back
to Lady Heather's.

I can take care
of this myself.

Gil, do me a favor.
Get a sports car.

It's a lot cheaper
and easier to handle.

(doorbell rings)

I'd like to come in.

Of course you would.

Say the magic word.

Warrant?

We don't have one.

The, uh, submissive
that was in here yesterday

was wearing
a feather boa.

That would be Chloe.

Chloe, uh...?

Chloe Samms.

She uses it as a garrote...

a way to control her breathing

to heighten the experience
for the dominant client.

Hmm.

Same scent

as Trey Buchman's crime scene.

Remember the
strawberry foam?

Do these belong
to Chloe?

I believe so.

Well, the shoes link
Chloe to the nightclub

and this job links Chloe
to the two vics.

Where is she?

She quit yesterday.

I bet I know why.

Well, if she's in town,
I'll find her.

I owe you an apology.

Apologies are just words.

So you're calling it?

I got two liars
and no murder weapon...

and no choice.

I'm going to nail the singer
on child endangerment,

and fleeing the scene,

and the dealer goes up
on possession for sale.

What a great bedtime story
for my little girl.

Oat, I did my best.

No-needle syringe used
on the vic at the foam party.

I recovered some epithelials
from the plunger end,

compared them
to your reference sample.

That girl you have in custody,
it's her DNA.

Case closed.

Thank you, Greg.

Look familiar?

Insulin was injected
into Trey Buchman's shoulder

at this end...

by you.

Your epithelials were found
at the plunger end.

Epithelials are skin cells
filled with DNA...

your genetic fingerprint.

So, you're going
to tell us why

and you're going
to tell us why

you strangled Rebecca McCormick.

For Steven.

I belong to him.

Chloe had a problem

controlling her emotions.

She let things
get personal.

Define "personal,"
in your crowd.

In my "crowd"?

Yeah.

So you started
seeing each other

outside of Lady Heather's?

We'd meet
occasionally, yes.

Listen...

my wife had a problem with sex.

Sounds like she had

a problem with you, pal.

My wife had a problem with sex.

And at Lady Heather's,
I fixed her.

Oh, you fixed her?

Yes.

She stay fixed?

Yeah, you fixed her so good

that she started
spending your money

to get other men to give her
what you couldn't.

Rebecca was
out of control.

So you got her to kill
Richards and Buchman.

No, I didn't.

And then you told her
to kill your wife.
No, I loved my wife.

I didn't tell Chloe
to do anything.

What happened?
She killed Richards
and Buchman on her own.

Okay.

Chloe thought that
killing your wife's lovers

would please you.

And it did please you.

I told her to stop.

But she didn't obey you.

She killed your wife.

You couldn't make Chloe
do what you wanted.

All that time at Lady Heather's

and you never learned
that the submissive

is the one in control?

I told her to stop.

(crying)

Stay tonight

We'll watch
the full moon rising

It's okay, Mommy.
It's okay.

Hold on tight

It's okay.

The sky is breaking

I don't ever
want to be alone

With all my darkest
dreaming

Hold me close.