All language subtitles for CSI.MIAMI.S03E08.720p.WEB-DL2

So, that is when they said,

We need you for our December cover.

I said no.

I mean,I could have children someday.

Children are... They're nice.

But not your cup of tea.

Well, there's...

No apologies.

No one loves a shallow
sexual relationsip

more than me.

This is good to know.

Hello.

Yes, it's me.

What's the matter? You didn't
expect to see me here tonight?

And we have five more minutes, or

actually, uh, we four
minutes and 34 seconds.

Do you want me to try to explain?

I would love an explanation.

Ready, set,

go.

Financial planner.

I own my own condo outright.

Never been married. Probably
cause I work seven days a week.

I know.

You know?

You were Rebecca #7 at

the Biscayne Grill.

Right.

Excuse me.May I get another
one of these, please?

You're one of those.

Probably can't hold your
attention for more five seconds.

Alexx,who do we have?

Richard Laken, 35 years old.

Based on his cash,

robbery was not the motive.

Was he bludgeoned?

Can't tell with what.

I'll have to get a good look
at these subdural injuries.

His car was vandalized,

suggesting a murder of passion.

Wasn't enough just to kill him?

Patrol called it in.

Owner says the last people that saw him

alive are long gone.

Was he alone?

No, he was with about 30 people.

They had some sort of
matchmaker party here last night.

Matchmaker in South Beach?

Bunch of singles get together,

play musical chairs. Get to know

each other over drinks. Have
a date every five minutes.

They call it speed-dating.

Owner says our victim had 15 dates.

Well, you know what they say,Frank.

Speed kills.

Cell phone's off.

Rigor indicates he's been
here at least six hours.

Looks like a scorecard for the ladies.

Checked every nook and
cranny on this block.

No murder weapon.

Well, it may have had
some value for the killer,

and they took it with them.

Calleigh, I smell acetone.

Acetone with a hint of lemon.

I think it's nail polish remover.

Whoever vandalized the
car was probably female.

That would be half our speed-daters.

Yes, it would. Frank,

it is time to talk to the owner.

Thank you, ladies.

This stuff is supposed
to be confidential

You're putting me in a
really bad position here

That's my specialty

All right, look, what do you want again?

I want the list of everybody

that sat with my victim.

The names are on my sign-up roster.

There are 15 women, 15 men.

I'd have to look for it.

I suggest that you do.

Do you recall Richard Laken in any

altercations?

Like bruised egos,

broken hearts,a drink in the face?

You know, I'm not a
chaperone. I spend the night

catching up on paperwork.

Here are the applications
from last night's participants.

Phone and addresses are in there.

Okay, a paralegal...

a web designer,

flight attendant,

financial planner.

Demanding jobs.

People don't have time to date.

Wait a second, Frank.

Mary Kinnan, hair stylist.

A hair stylist, Frank
she has an access to

acetone, doesn't she?

Guy's car was dunked in it.

Yes. Take Eric and find out

what made Mary so unhappy

in under five minutes.

All right.

We're looking for Mary Kinnan.

Is she here?

In the house I built but don't live in?

You bet you. Help yourself.

What's in the box?

Well, you want to
know, call your lawyer.

Oh, fine, I'll do that,

and I'll stick you with the legal fees.

He dumped me four months ago for a site

manager, and he's surprised
that I want the house.

We understand you attended a
speed-dating event last night.

I did.

There might be a lot of
fish in the sea, but I

can't be reeling them in one at a time.

I've got three kids in there.

You know Richard Laken?

Yes.

He was murdered last night

outside the Neuron Lounge.

Oh, my God.

I...

Um...

we met a couple months
ago at-at a night,

and then

we had a few real dates after that.

Someone also vandalized his

car with acetone,

an ingredient you use as a hairstylist.

Wait a minute.

You think that...?

Yeah, we do.

And we'd like to search the premises

to see if we find any acetone.

Okay.

Okay, I threw acetone on his car.

No. Richard told me
that he was getting back

together with his ex, and
then I see him last night at

speed-dating, playing the field.

And so, you were mad?

No, I was insulted.

And during the break, I

went outside to make a point.

Okay, it was... it was stupid,

I know, all right? But I went...

I went back inside,
and-and that was it.

Look, I watched him get up and leave

right after the final bell.
He didn't even turn his card

in, and-and he was alive, okay?

You know why he ran out?

I figured he didn't
want to see me again.

All right.

Appreciate it.

I'll call Horatio, tell him
something had our victim on the run.

All right, I'm gonna check her story.

What you doing?

Confirming Mary Kinnan's story.

She poured at least
four liters of acetone

on Richard Laken's car.

It was evaporated in 30 minutes.

Yeah. It was gone when we got there.

So, if Richard Laken was murdered

while his car was being vandalized,

the acetone would have still been wet

and dripped on his shoe.

I checked. There's not a drop.

Meaning she ruined his paint job

at intermission, not
at the end of the night.

Meaning, our divorcee
was telling the truth.

Hey, guys,

Alexx called up. Said
Richard Laken's on deck.

You go.

To the autopsy?

Yeah, to the autopsy.
What, are you scared?

No, not at all. I'll go.

Thanks, guys.

Have fun.

It's a head trauma, right?

This Richard Laken?

Heard you're the man today.

I've observed autopsies before.

Once.

As a student through the

glass.

Then step right up.

You see the contusions on the forearms?

Had to be antemortem

He was trying to defend himself.

What is it?

I don't know,

but it's silver,

and there's a lot of it.

Might be paint.

I'll take it to Trace.

You do that.

Alexx?

He doesn't have a head.

Where'd the head go?

I'm processing it.

You're boiling it?

Can't determine the
type of murder weapon

from the injuries to his arms and torso.

But...

with a shattered mandible,

depressed skull fractures, and

intracranial hemorrhaging,

his head may tell us what hit him.

I'm gonna remove the soft tissue,

get a better look.

The skin...

Think I understand why
Calleigh and Delko sent me.

You okay, Ryan?

Okay, why don't you go on over to Trace,

and I'll finish up here, okay?

Tyler, do we have the floor plan

to the Neuron Lounge, please?

Every square inch.

Okay. Now, Mary Kinnan

said Richard was in a
hurry to leave the table,

right? I need to know
who he sat with last.

Okay, all these speed-daters filled out

these cards, turned 'em
in at the end of the night.

I've been translating them.

Every person was given a number

corresponds with a table.

They move every five minutes.

So, it's a well-oiled machine.

Your victim, Richard Laken, started

his evening at Table 12.

Only the men change tables.

Rebecca Briggs.

She's the one Richard ran from.

Okay, so the question becomes

did Rebecca go after him? Thank you.

You were the last one to
see him alive, Rebecca.

I told you, when he left my table, that

was it. I never saw him again.

This scratch looks fresh.

I have cats. It's how
they show affection.

You pick up any habits from them?

I don't like him.

Rebecca,

the medical examiner is doing Richard's

autopsy as we speak.

If he scratched you, I'm
going to know about it,

So...

this is your opportunity
to change your story.

All right...

I did follow him...

because I knew he was the guy.

The guy?

My condo. Last week,

when I got home,

my laptop, my stereo system,

my plasma screen everything was gone.

Hey, Richard!

Are you done now, huh?
You got enough info?

What, are you crazy?

Who you robbing tonight, huh?

Which girl's it going to be this time?

Why do you suspect Richard?

I know it was one of
those speed-dating guys.

They're the only guys
that I spill everything to.

It's weird, you know, when
you're under the clock,

you feel compelled to tell them

everything right away

your habits, your
secrets, your schedule.

You file a police report?

No.

I- I thought I could
figure it out myself.

And I felt stupid enough
without bringing the police in.

I- I really thought
I had him last night.

Richard he just looked...

he looked so guilty standing there.

Guilty?

You know, Rebecca, in my line of work,

do you know what they call that?

They call it motive.

Rebecca Briggs was
cleaned out, all right.

Whoever did it got in somehow.

I'll, uh... I'll check
the back for forced entry.

Frank,

the scene of the crime is
the entertainment center.

Might have something.

I'm no CSI, but it looks to be
more of a smear than a print.

Probably not much help.

Well, if it's a smear, Frank, there may
be enough ridge detail to capture some DNA.

You talking skin cells?

If he's a shedder...

there could be enough stripped nuclei.

for Valera to work on.

You can get DNA from that?

Frank...

there's more than one
kind of fingerprint.

Hey, you looking for me?

I was- finally finished
Richard Laken's skull.

Looks like a museum piece.

Yeah, the end result usually does.

Three blows, all to the parietal bone.

The first two cracked the
skull No tool impressions.

Luckily for us, the killer got angrier.

This one broke clean through.

Gave us something to work with.

What kind of weapon?

You're the CSI.

That part's up to you.

So, uh, how'd it go in autopsy?

I handled it.

Who hazed you?

Speedle.

A headless woman.

Freaked me out a little, too.

So, what killed Richard Laken?

Based on the paint from Richard's arms

and the measurements on these guys,
he was killed with a tire iron.

Okay, now we know
what we're looking for.

Good work.

Valera, the DNA from the
condo. Is it Richard Laken's?

Nope. Meet Chad Gilbert.

Got a three year sentence
for burglary in '99.

So Chad is at it again, huh?

Yeah, and get this: I
checked it against your list.

He's another one of your speed-daters.

Interesting.

Thank you, Valera.

That better be you, Sully.

Hey, get down! Kiss the
floor, Chad! Now! Get down!

Frank?

He's clean.

Ooh, Chad.

What do we have here? Ooh, look at this.

Chad was on his way to
the fence. Huh, Chad?

Looks like Rebecca Briggs'
plasma screen, laptop.

Yes, it does. Let me ask you
a question, Chad.

How many women have you ripped off
under the guise of speed-dating?

Look, man, it's just burglary.
Nobody's getting hurt.

Really? You're about to get
hurt. You're looking at

one year minimum if you don't
answer the next question correctly.

Was Richard Laken involved
in your little scam?

Richard? Number 12? No.

That guy's there for the women,
man. He-he thinks he's a real player.

Was he into any special
woman last night?

Well, I did see him acting kind of strange,
you know, right before the final bell.

E- Excuse me.

But I don't think it was about
that chick he was sitting with.

No, he... he saw
something or-or somebody.

The guy went white as a sheet.

And you noticed all that, huh, Chad?

Look, I notice
everything about everyone.

It's what I do.

Hey, Tyler.

Hey. 3D software's loaded.

What do you want to see?

Who Richard was staring at before
he left the speed-dating event.

But... wasn't it the girl in
front of him, Rebecca Briggs?

Horatio thinks it was someone else.

Okay...

Richard Laken is in yellow.

Rebecca is the first one, in purple.

Connie #12 is the next woman.

And who's the guy?

According to this, he could've
been looking at Jack Smith.

Thanks, Tyler.

Hey.

Hey.

The lounge floor plan said the person
in Richard's sight line was a Jack Smith.

Jack Smith?

Here's his application. I
was about to go and see him.

Hey, hang on a second.

There's a problem.

Take a look at that address.

1126 Charthouse Drive.

It's in the Grove.

Miami Beach Cafe, which is right on
the water, is at 1028 Charthouse, right?

So 1126 would probably make his front
door out in the Atlantic, wouldn't it?

He lied on his application.

Possibly, if he exists at all.
Whoever he is, let's find him, okay?

Jack Smith...

Um, w-what number was he?

Number 13.

We don't think Jack
Smith was his real name.

I'm sorry, I-I'm drawing a blank.

I guess he wasn't my type.

Richard was staring at him
during your date together.

Do you by any chance remember exactly
what you were talking about when he left?

Excuse me. May I get
another one of these, please?

You're one of those.

You probably can't hold your
attention for more than five seconds.

He said something about the heat.

It's the heat.

It is hot.

They say it might rain tomorrow.

No, the... the game the other night...

The game, right. Basketball.

What about the game?

And then he shot out of his chair like
I said I wanted to elope and have twins.

Does that help?

More than you know.

What do we have?

Well, so far, just that
Richard Laken was rattling on

about the Miami Heat right
before he bolted the lounge.

You know, we did find a ticket stub in his
wallet. Maybe he saw something at the game.

The Arena has an event index that logs
everything that happens at the game.

Let's see.

Fan altercations.

Found lost child at Gate 3 concession
stand, reunited with parent.

Helped G. Lewis Davis find
lost wallet in section 412.

Tended to sick fan during halftime show.

Assisted fan complaining of chest pains.

No Richard Laken.

That was all inside, wasn't
it? What about outside?

I'm gonna check anything
in the Arena's zip code.

Then I'll cross-reference it with
the date and time of the game.

Well, look at that. Richard Laken.

Richard Laken witnessed an assault
Saturday night after the game.

He made a statement to the police.

Bring up that statement, please.

Two white men attacked Marcus Washington,
in a private parking lot outside the Arena.

Every single free throw he missed!

It's ridiculous!

Hey, man!

One hit him; the other
one tended to him.

Right, but both men fled
the scene, didn't they?

Case is still open.

His mother was with him, but she was
too shaken up to remember anything.

So Laken's the only reliable witness.

Until someone killed him.

What about the victim?

Marcus Washington is in critical
condition at Dade Memorial Hospital.

Dade Memorial. That's
where I'll be. Thank you.

Mrs. Washington?

Mrs. Washington, My name
is Horatio Caine.

I'm with CSI. I'm sorry for
what happened to Marcus.

He hit the pavement so hard.

The doctor said it's cerebral edema.

I keep talking to him.

I don't know if he can hear me.

Well, Mrs. Washington,
with these things,

it's possible that he can hear you.

Did you find the man
who did this to him?

Well, we're making progress.

And I understand that
you've spoken to officers,

but would you mind telling me the story?

My son takes me to all the games.

It's our tradition.

We were going to the car,
and this man bumped into me.

He was missing every single one!

Hey, man, that's my mom!

What are you doing?

Marcus! Marcus!

Can you hear me?

Help!

Somebody help! Marcus!

Marcus was just watching out for me.

I understand.

Did you get a look at the man?

I was looking at my son.

All I remember is the
blood coming from his nose.

I'm sorry.

Mrs. Washington, there's no
need for you to apologize.

Here's what I want to do. If I find out
anything, I will come and find you, okay?

You hang in there.

Hey.

This is the evidence from
the Marcus Washington assault?

Officer Ramirez got the call.

He clearly remembers
taking Laken's statement.

What is this?

That is...

what's left of a temporary tattoo.

Hmm.

And so this must be the
mother's handkerchief.

Marcus!

Marcus, can you hear me?

Marcus! Marcus!

The rest of it's just napkins
from the Arena parking lot.

Hot dog mustard, relish.

This napkin's interesting.

The fiber's tight.

It's higher grade, you mean.

Tighter weave, like it's more expensive.

Maybe like the kind they
give out in skyboxes?

Richard Laken's statement
said that one of the assailants

knelt next to Marcus
Washington and tended to him.

Hey, man, are you okay?

Marcus!

Marcus!

We should find out which
skybox this napkin comes from.

Did you get anything off the napkin?

Lucky for us, this high-grade
fiber latches onto everything.

What is it?

Take a look.

Some kind of meat?

Spectra's flatlined.

There's nothing on it.

Exactly.

There's no progesterone, estradiol or
any other government approved hormone.

You know what that means?

Meat's foreign.

It's Kobe beef.

Japanese delicacy.

That's an expensive
snack, even for a skybox.

Solar State Insurance
was able to afford it.

Two orders from outside restaurants.

Arena operations confirmed
it over the phone.

Solar State.

Over a thousand employees
and a half million clients.

But only one person signed for it.

They're checking
receipts to get us a name.

Hmm.

I wasn't even at
the Heat game on Saturday.

Is that a fact?

Well, Mr. Hayes, somebody
was, and they... have

the ability to perfectly
reproduce your signature.

The other thing

that we found from your skybox is a
napkin with the victim's blood on it.

What does this mean to you?

The Arena has confirmed there
were only two of you in the skybox,

which makes you either guilty of
aggravated assault or an accomplice.

An accomplice?

To what I don't know yet.

The victim, the victim, Mr.
Hayes, is hanging on by a thread.

No, no, no, no. Wait a minute.

I tried to help that guy.

What are you doing?

Hey, man, are you okay?

Come on! Let's go!

Marcus!

Marcus, can you hear me?

Help!

I need a name.

He's a buddy from work.

Jack Webster.

Look, I...

It happened so fast,

I didn't have time to stop him.

You better pray that I do.

Now, Jack, here's what I think happened.

You and your buddy were up in the skybox

watching the pros bang it
around, feeling your testosterone,

and you punched the first
man that ran in to your path.

Never happened.

Stanton gave you up, Jack.

What? Stanton hit that kid.

I tried to save his life.

So we have a he said/he said.

Jack, do you know that
you're in the minority?

You don't say.

Yes, the minority, Jack.

Only 11% of the country is left-handed.

What makes you think I'm left-handed?

Your ring does.

Marcus had a temporary
tattoo on his face.

It wiped off onto your
ring when you hit him.

You washed your hands,
but neglected your ring.

He started it.

He got in my face.

What was he, what was
he even doing out there?

Hey, man!

Hey, man, you okay?

Come on! Let's go!

Marcus!

He was protecting his mother.

I didn't mean to hurt him that bad.

But you did hurt him that bad.

And Richard Laken saw it.

And he wound up dead
the very next night.

I didn't kill that guy.

Why do you call yourself "Jack
Smith" if you have nothing to hide?

Look...

fake names...

keep the women from calling.

Five minutes and they
think they're engaged.

Have you ever taken a
good look in the mirror?

I didn't even notice that guy.

No, but he noticed you.

Oh, you're one of those.

Probably can't hold your
attention for more five seconds.

If this Richard guy saw me,
why didn't he call the cops?

Maybe he died trying.

There are no cell phones allowed
in the lounge during speed-dating.

So, when Richard recognized Jack,

he had to go to his car, get his
cell phone and call the police.

PD sent over his phone log.

He made no calls last night, so
we can't tell if his phone was on.

Well, actually, we can, with this.

A flash memory chip.

When a cell phone's turned
on, it has to find a network.

So, it sends out a signal
to the nearest cell tower.

The tower sends back

a time-stamped confirmation that can
be retained in the flash memory chip

even when the phone's turned off.

He turned his cell
phone on at 10:56 P.M.

So, he was killed before he
had a chance to make a call.

We have the time of death.

Jack was inside with everyone
else handing in scorecards.

Which means he has 28 alibis.

Which means that whoever killed Richard
Laken was waiting for him outside.

Let's go back to the crime
scene and expand our search.

Hey, Eric.

Will you check this out?

Does this look like
it belongs here to you?

Definitely not.

Looks like caked gravel.

Maybe crushed stone.

But the color's off,
like it's been treated.

It's cast stone.

It's a durable building material.

A list architects use it.

You put the right finish on
it, it looks just like granite.

Cheap contractors must love it.

And I think I know one who
was standing right here.

Pop the trunk.

You guys can't go in there.

Yes, we can. Pop it.

Doing some masonry at the site, Fred?

It's my job.

I'm a builder.

What are you looking at that for?

It might have done
more than change a tire.

You're kidding, right?

We've got blood.

You're under arrest for
the murder of Richard Laken.

Officer...

I was never at this
Neuron Lounge last night.

That's true, Fred.

But you were camped out
across the street from it.

All right, I knew my
wife was seeing some guy.

Didn't you cheat on her?

Yeah, but I still had to know
who got her so hot and bothered.

I'd seen his car once
when he picked her up.

When I saw who it was,

I realized I had nothing to worry about.

The guy was a pencil-neck.

So, I left.

Then how do you explain your tire
iron with Richard Laken's blood on it?

The tool mark matches
his skull fracture.

I can think of one person
who would set me up.

What? Why would I do that?

Perhaps to kill two
birds with one stone.

Or should I say men?

All right, I went out there

at the end of the speed-dating, okay?

I... I wanted to see the look on his
face when he saw what I'd done to his car.

Damn!

How does it feel to expect
one thing and get another?

"I'm sorry." Is that
what you want to hear?

Why didn't you tell me this before?

Well, the last I heard, they didn't
allow child support from prison.

And you never touched Richard?

N... No. Never.

Will you explain his blood...

on your card?

I don't know.

Is it possible that you touched
him before you went back inside?

I... I really, I really couldn't say.

See. the problem I'm having

is that the tire iron you
claimed your husband used

is from your car.

You're trying to trick me

because they're all the same.

Are they? Wolfe?

Diameter of Richard Laken's
skull fracture, 17 millimeters.

It's consistent with your car.

Your husband's SUV needs
a 19-millimeter tire iron.

So, you swapped out your tire iron

to frame your husband.

I just wanted to see his reaction.

Damn it.

He loved that car so i carried
the tire iron for protection.

How does it feel to expect
one thing and get another?

You don't get it.

You women, you think that
that's a dating service?

It's about getting laid.

What?!

You're all in there
looking for a husband.

We're trying to get sex
in less than five minutes.

I thought we had something.

We did. Sex.

You want a husband, go back
to the guy who left you.

The cruelty.

He showed his true colors.

And now we've seen yours.

Thank you, Wolfe.

Lieutenant Caine.

Ma'am.

I heard you found the guy who did this.

You know what, Mrs. Washington?

We did.

We found him.

Marcus squeezed my hand today.

Once.

The doctor said that it
might not mean anything.

Mrs. Washington,

you and I know different, don't we?

Have you had anything to eat?

No, not in days.

You know what?

There's a cafeteria downstairs.

Why don't you get a bite to eat?

Oh, no, I can't go.

Mrs. Washington, you can.

I'll watch Marcus.

You don't mind, Lieutenant?

I'll stay with him.