All language subtitles for CSI New York S01E17 The Fall.DVD.HI.cc.en.CBS

50 bucks for some crunk juice?

You got to be kidding me, man.

They ain't got no 40s?

Can I help you?

Give me the cash!

Move, punk! Hurry up!

Let's go! Now! Come on!

Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!

Give me the cash!

You crazy, man!

Loco!

Yo, El!

Cover this fool.

Got you.

Don't move.

Finish it, man.

You took everything...

Shut up!

Hector...

blast that fool.

( siren blaring)

Go back and talk
to the bodega owner.

See if you can
find anything out.

Be nice to him.

OFFICER:
Evening,
Detectives.

Sergeant.

Can't tell where the blood ends
and the wine begins.

Actually, you can.

Viscosity and color
are different.

Scientists.

Lost him before
paramedics arrived.

Two in the back.
Did he make a statement?

Three unknown male Hispanics,

late teens, two armed.

Gangbangers.

Most of the old-time residents

see gentrification as a threat.

The gangs,

they see fresh meat.

Stella.
Yeah?

Footprints spaced in a run.

Right through the wine.
Vic was running for his life.

About as cold-blooded
as it gets.

Anything else, Sergeant?

Bookstore clerk
across the street

said the three fled on foot.

Any other witnesses?

Bodega owner,
check cashing clerk...

Both have nothing to say.

The locals know better

than to go on record
against the gangs.

Unfortunately for gangs...

they can't intimidate evidence.

♪ Out here in the fields ♪

♪ I fought for my meals ♪

♪ I get my back into my living ♪

♪ I don't need to fight ♪

♪ To prove I'm right ♪

♪ I don't need to be forgiven,
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah ♪

♪ Yeah. ♪

Nine-millimeter.

Did you remember
to double-glove?

All this blood and glass,
I triple-gloved.

Looking at the bright side,

at least it's warm in here.

Yeah, but the cold
still kills us.

All the heavy clothing
lessens the chance

the three left
behind prints, hair,

DNA.
Mac,

you're not helping.

The glass may have
worked in our favor.

I'm swabbing every sample.

Maybe there's a second bleeder.

( grunts)

Wouldn't be the first time

showing off
got a shooter nailed.

Got something.

Disposable lighter.

They don't sell these here.

It's the kind of thing
that falls from a pocket

when you're removing
something else in haste.

Yeah, and if you
were wearing gloves,

it would be pretty
difficult to use it.

Bingo.

Double bingo.

BONASERA:
Surveillance camera.

TAYLOR:
High-end.

Probably transmits
to a computer in the back.

You use your flashlight

more than anything on your belt.

Always bring extra batteries.

Remember all the lessons,
rookie.

This guy likes pop quizzes.

All right, now, don't
break his aggies.

Oh, yeah, like you didn't
break mine for four years.

Come here. Good to see you.

My former charge,
Donald Flack Jr.,

son of the NYPD legend.

Hey, how's your old man?

Eh, you know, the same.

Hey, Flack.
Hey.

Hear we're looking for bangers.

Three. Two had nine-mils.

It's Nagasaki in there.

I'm gonna need your help
on the perimeter.

All right, fled on foot,

probably ditched their weapons
quickly.

Keep me posted, Flack.

Ran west.
Let's go.

Sit tight.

Make a hole, folks.

Okay, you're a kid,

you murdered, you're running.

Got priors,
can't keep a hot weapon.

Unwise to chuck it
in the street.

Plenty of alleys.

Couple around the corner.

Too clean.

Too many windows.

Here.
Alpha maggot would
throw first.

We know their pattern, Donnie.

Let's move.

Here we go!

Beta maggot

sees alpha throw,

does likewise in the next alley.

I'm glad a few things stuck,
Donnie.

How you doing?
Danny Messer, Crime Lab.

You know where the body's at?

Wow.

( mechanical whirring)

HAWKES:
Guy this big couldn't just
fall through the awning?

It's a canopy.

What?

Awnings cover windows.

Canopies run out to the curb.

My uncle manufactures them
in Queens.

Either way, it's a pain
in my gluteus maximus.

( laughs)

Tell me about it.

Any idea how long
he's been dead?

Lividity set in on one side.

Some rigor.

Had to have been in this
position at least four hours.

So he fell long
before he was spotted.

Four stories, huh?

I wonder which one.

I'm hearing a party
on the third floor.

And I noticed an oily smudge
on his right shoulder.

I got it.

Wow, this is Melvin Heckman.

Who's Melvin Heckman?

He's, like, New York's
biggest producer.

His grandfather owns
a movie studio.

They're, like... film royalty.

Well, no more
red carpet treatment for him.

Excuse me.
Everybody listen up.

I'm gonna have to ask that

nobody leave the apartment
at this time.

Terrace door's curiously
devoid of prints.

I'm lucky if I got one.

I always have the
cleaners come the
day of a party.

Mrs. Heckman,
when did you notice

Mr. Heckman was missing

from the party?
I didn't.

I mean, he's always
sneaking off with someone.

Social events are where
he made his deals.

Were there any people
at the party

tonight that might have had
a problem with your husband?

Definitely.

You got a name?

You got a pen?

( gunshot)

TAYLOR:
All the blood samples

are from the victim,
unfortunately.

Any luck with the guns?

Testing confirms
they were the weapons

fired at the wine shop,
but no prints on either.
Thanks.

What about the casings?

Multiple case-to-case matches

with about a half a dozen
unsolved Bronx shootings.

Main suspects: Crazy
Aces gang members.

Whatcha got?
Got a hit on your
lighter print.

Luis Accosta, 18,
two juvie stints,

felony assault, grand theft
auto, member of Crazy Aces.

The A/V techs should be
finished loading that
surveillance video.

If he lost that lighter
onscreen, it's enough
to make an arrest.

Can't get a positive
facial read...

Not even the one
without glasses.

Yeah, it's the camera angle.

Hats are working against us.

TAYLOR:
That's got
to be Accosta.

Check the perp at the door.

Body language says that one's

in over his head.
Yeah, he's scared.

And unarmed.

Damn it.

Accosta lost the lighter
offscreen.

There goes our arrest warrant.

Hector, blast that fool.
BONASERA:
Did you hear that?

Thank you

for being stupid.

We got a Hector.

TAYLOR:
This was Hector's
gang initiation.

That makes sense.

You don't hit an upscale place
for all the cash.

And murder once you've
gotten the money.

( keyboard clacking)

Here, check this out.

We may have DNA after all.

You bag this can?

No.

And it wasn't
in your crime scene photos.

Maybe Hector came back
and retrieved it.

I'll ask his friend Accosta.

No oxidation.
The rail break is recent.

Yeah, well, too bad
birds can't talk,

'cause there's a robin's
nest, like, 12 feet away.

Bird's-eye view.

Had to say it, right?

What're you gonna do?

I got a fiber.

It's consistent
with our victim's shirt.

He was wearing a jacket, right?

Means he fell face-first.

Here we go.

There's blood on the ledge.

Guy that big wouldn't fall
clear of the building.

( yells)

If it was suicide, he would've
jumped over the rail.

So we're looking
at an accident or a homicide.

OFFICER:
This is the Aces' turf.

They move from one
condemned building
to another.

Accosta, come here.

And you,

stand up.

It's not polite to point, man.

( laughter)

What's your name?

Tomas Perez.

Got your escapade
on videotape tonight.

Not us.

We was in here.
It's cold out.

Man, this is harassment, man.

It's a legal search.

Pack of gum.

Punks knew
we were coming for 'em.

Cleaned up.

Looking for your lighter, Luis?

You dropped it tonight.

Man, I lose lighters
all the time.

Where's your new friend, Hector?

Don't know any Hectors.

I'm testing for gunshot residue.

Come here.

Hold out your hand.

What are you doing, man?

What kind of experiment
is this, man?

Could give me cancer.

( laughter)

You,

come here.

Move it.

You got nothing on us.

( chuckles)

Points.

You murdered a man tonight,
Perez.

If there's one speck of dust
out there that proves it,

I will find it,

and you will answer
for what you did.

What brings a prosecutor
to a crime lab?

I need an arrest on this one.

That's always my goal
with homicide.

But this is the stuff

the papers clobber us with.

Innocent people gunned down
by gangbangers.

Innocent white people.

You know,
it's real easy for you.

The politics doesn't
come in here to your lab.

Not if I can help it.

What do you need from me?

Space.
We're doing everything we can.

Do it faster.

FLACK:
Mac, we had two of the three
right in front of us.

No visible blood spatter.

Negative for GSR.

They obviously washed up.

There was no move to make.

What do you have?

Police dispatch log.

That soda can
we saw on the video

was bothering me.

The bookstore clerk said
he saw them running

at 10:15.

The first responding officer

arrived at 10:17.

Timeline rules out retrieval.

Uh, the unarmed banger, Hector,

left a soda can behind

in the wine shop.
DNA.

We didn't find it

at the scene.

Mirado brand, lime flavor.

Moran was the first responder.

That guy's got a memory
like an elephant.

Good. Ask him about it.

( horn honks)
Whoa!

MORAN:
Soda can?

Never saw one.

FLACK:
Well, it was a busy scene.

You write down everything.

Can you check your memo book?

I'd remember it.

Humor me, Gavin.

If I wrote it down,
I'd remember it.

Look,

you were trying
to save a guy's life.

Easy to forget something.

Forget something?

What, is that Taylor talking?

No, it's me.

Come on. Don't make
this a thing.

It's an old game.

Higher-ups screw up,
blame the uniform.

I never thought
you'd partake, Donnie.

Gavin,

give me your memo book.

What, that an order, Detective?

If you need it to be.

HAWKES:
There's a joke here
about crashing a party,

but I won't go there.

Good.

Cause of death:

blow to the head.

Which he sustained in the fall.

We matched his DNA
to blood we found

on the second floor ledge.

HAWKES:
Floral scent

on the right hand.

I'll get that broken down.
Signs of struggle?

Just two small bruises
on his right glute.

Stomach contents?

What'd you'd expect
at the party...

Chicken, arugula,

chocolate.

Alcohol content: .011.

Even drunk,

it wouldn't be easy
to send a guy this big

where he didn't want to go,
you know?

I'll break the stomach contents
down further,

run a tox screen for poison.

Okay. Thanks, Doc.
All right.

♪ ♪

Aiden, I got the scent
broken down

on Melvin's hand.
Good.

It's a woman's perfume

called Suspicion.

Yeah, but his wife
wasn't wearing any.

Women wear it on their neck,
wrists, cleavage.

Maybe he was playing around.

You know, there are a lot
of scratches on the arms,

but he definitely
fought the fall.

You I.D. the substance
on his shoulder?

It's salmon oil.

Well, they served salmon
at the party.

Yeah, but nobody spills
it on their own back.

True.

It's hard to get prints
off of clothing,

but this is a very tight
synthetic weave.

Got a partial handprint.

Positioning doesn't look
like a hug.

BURN:
Imprint's smudged
on the right side.

Definitely indicates force.

Well, unless they were
playing Twister,

someone got physical
with Melvin.

There was no ridge detail
on the fingers.

We just got some on the palm.

Well, good, let's go print

some beautiful people, then.

Okay, back to the crime scene.

( beeping)

Thank you.

I'm trying to match
a fragrance here.

( beeps)

What'd I win?

A conversation.

Your perfume was
on Melvin Heckman.

I'd rather wait tables
than get on that casting couch.

So how'd it get there?

I was supposed to be the lead
in Lethal Verdict,

about a lawyer
with a brain tumor

prosecuting
a cell phone company.

He fired me.

You're supposed to be dying.

You gained weight.

Honey, you're off the picture!

But my doctor says I'm anorexic.

Go stuff your face
on your own time.

I'll lose it!

I swear!

Melvin was awful,

but he was my ticket
from off-off Broadway

to L.A.

Danny, I got a hit
on the palm print.

That's cool.

If you found the killer,
let me know who,

so I can send flowers.

( chuckles):
Don't move.

We got evidence
that says you pushed him.

Pushed him?

No, no, no, no, no, no.
I was begging him.

And nowhere near the balcony.

Why?

Well, I'm a writer-director,

and I just finished
a film for him

that's based
on my grandfather's life

as a coal miner in Virginia.

It's a very personal project.

When he found out that I sold

my next project to Paramount,
he went nuts.

But you passed on that project.

I don't care.

I'm opening Canary Carl
Memorial Day weekend.

No, it'll get killed by Pixar.

Melvin, please...

Get lost, hack!

That was the last time
I spoke to him.

Any proof of that?

Yes, actually... my agent.

I was on the cell with him

in the library for, like,
the next three hours.

Oh, good.

I'm gonna need your cell.

Sure.

There you go.

Thanks.

Hey, wait a minute.

What time did he fall?

About 9:30. Why?

( quiet chuckle)

Maybe he never moved
the release date.

Stella.

Talk to Moran?

Yeah. May have been
a little confusion

with his memo book notations.

What'd he say about it?

A little touchy.

He was your training officer.

You know how it is.

Oh, yeah.

Ran into one of mine
about a month ago.

I swear, if I were
chief of police,

he'd still call me Toots.

( laughs):
Exactly.

Hey, uh,

you have a machine, indicates

if two different kinds of ink
are used on a document?

The video spectral comparitor.

Can we run this through,
off the books?

Without a case number?
Yeah.

If it's nothing, I don't want

anything on record
that calls him into question.

It is a nondestructive process.

Thanks.

Okay.

Hey, you were right.

Moran used two inks.

Both black, two separate pens.

First pen he used to write

all the information.

Description of the perps
and such.

Then he took another

and scratched out
this entire section.

Completely obliterated
"Hector, soda can,

scar right cheek."

Maybe Moran thought
he heard wrong.

On all three points?

He purposely withheld

the vic's dying declaration.

Moran took that soda can.

Wait, we don't know that.

But he couldn't have gotten far.

I'm going back to the scene.

Stella, wait.

I'll do it.

Flack...
I rode with him

for four years.

I know how he thinks.

All right.

Remember all the lessons,
rookie.

I'm glad a few things stuck,
Donnie.

This doesn't make sense.

I know this guy.

BONASERA:
A cop on the same beat

for 20 years makes ties.

With gang members?

No way, Stella.

Gavin Moran's not on the take.

An hour ago, you'd have sworn

he would never tamper
with evidence.

He helped me find the guns,

he tried to save the victim...

It doesn't add up.

TAYLOR:
Wait a minute, wait.

We're getting ahead of ourselves
until we confirm

that this is the evidence
we're looking for.

I'm back to torture you.

One woman's torture
is another woman's challenge.

That look says it's a rush.

I'd like to wait here.

Sure.

♪ ♪

The cold temperature kept
the DNA samples nicely.

There are two donors on the can.

A saliva contribution

from an unknown male,

and an epithelial contribution
from Sergeant Gavin Moran.

And there's more...

You sure this part is right?

Absolutely.

Moran's in the gang's pocket.

I don't think he did it
for the money.

The DNA donors
have genetic profiles

that indicate
they're father and son.

That can't be right.

Gavin's got twin daughters
at Boston College.

Same beat, 20 years.

TAYLOR:
Flack,

the banger named Hector...
he's Moran's son.

♪ ♪

Run his financials.

You know what to look for.

Why don't we wait until you hear
what he has to say?

Don, we have a hot homicide

and we already know
where Moran falls

in our efforts to solve it.

Find the mother.

Glute bruises came from a shoe?

This season's Feldman stilettos.

Footprint database came through?
Nice.

Yeah, 'cause Carrie Bradshaw's

always knocking off
savings and loans.

Come on. They don't

database women's shoes.

Enlighten me then.

Okay, well, you're not
the only one

with craftsmen in the family

because I called my cousin Manny
who's a cobbler on 86th Street.

Told him about
the tear-drop heel,

and he sent me over

to Beverly Feldman.

You're right.
Looks like a teardrop.

BURN:
I measured the distance

between the two bruises.

The woman we're looking for
wears a size seven.

Let's go find Cinderella then.

You tampered with evidence.

My evidence.

I'm not sure what...
You were sloppy.

Your DNA is on that can...

as is your son's.

And we have the original
statement from the vic.

Call my union lawyer.

Tell me where your son is
while he still has a chance.

Let me start the story for you.

Young guy, new on the street,
family at home.

Saved a girl in the projects
from some meathead.

She looked at you
like you're Superman.

You turn around,
you've got a son.

You request to stay
on the same beat

as a way to check in.

But... financial support
and the occasional visits

aren't as strong
as the lure of the gangs...

Especially to a Dominican kid
with a white father

with something to prove.

On tour,
you respond to a robbery,

get a description,
realize it's Hector, your son.

Father trumps cop.

You cover for him.

You're looking at time.

If that's my story,
sounds like the least I can do.

If he's not the shooter,
I can help.

I just need to find him.

Call my union lawyer.

MRS. HECKMAN:
I'm tired of you people
in my house.

MESSER:
Just answer
the question.

You're right.

I kicked him in the ass
as hard as I could.

May we ask why?

To save his life.

I told you about his eating.

Eating?

Melvin was 200 pounds
overweight.

He had five tantrums a day,

sky-high cholesterol levels.

Sweets were like poison to him.

And you were the candy police.

Exactly.

I forbade sweets at home
and at his office.

And at parties,

I gave specific instructions

to the waiters to keep
the candy trays

away from him.

But he's wily...

Melvin!

It's just one!

Can't trust you for a minute.

MESSER:
Silver.

He wore cufflinks?

His jacket sleeves

had marks.

One of them was probably
from the wall.

You're right.

What do you think?

I kicked him off the balcony?

It crossed our mind.

I told you...

I loved that man.

Excuse me.

Back to the body.

Years of checks made out
to a Blanca Vasquez.

Bronx address,

Carmody Street.

Mac.
What?

If it was his son...

Flack, I need your head
on straight.

It is.

Good.

Be ready to go hunting with me.

When I got home from work,
I saw that Hector packed.

And then I heard the message.

What did he say?

Said he's going to our
cousin's in Atlanta.

Said not to answer the door
if Tomas Perez came by.

I tried calling,
but his cell is off.

Mrs. Vasquez,
we need to take

your answering machine.

Of course.

Good news and bad news.

Hector failed the initiation.

Now they want him dead.

Call his cell phone again.

Just did... five times.
Still off.

Probably knows
it can be tracked.

HECTOR:
Mama,
I'm at the bus station.

Don't worry.

If Tomas Perez comes by,

don't open the door.

Tell him I went to Atlanta.

All right, that means
he's anywhere but Atlanta.

I'm going to isolate
that background noise.

TAYLOR:
When teens run,

they usually don't go far.

Tell him I went to Atlanta.

Hear that?

Yeah, some kind of loudspeaker.

Let me bring it up.

I can isolate that frequency.

Whitford-Ninth Street.

Whitford-Ninth in Park Slope.

Brooklyn. I'm gonna
call Mrs. Vasquez.

BONASERA:
Hector's mother worked here.

Used to bring him with
her when he was little,

before the plant closed.

I really wish
I wasn't part of this.

Mac wants to make sure you are.

He obviously enjoys watching me
nail a friend.

No, he's just looking out
for you.

I got something.

Hector Vasquez!

NYPD!

There he goes.

Hey, Mac, he's heading
up towards you.

We're going to cover
the perimeter.

Son, it's okay.

I didn't do anything!

You're gonna help us
prove it, all right?

Come on!

TAYLOR:
We have a dying
victim's statement

I.D.ing a Hispanic teen
named Hector,

scar on the right cheek.

You're on tape drinking
from a soda can.

We have that soda can.

It contains your DNA.

If you help us,

there may be a way out of this.

I don't trust cops.

This has nothing
to do with your father.

I don't want to see him.

You don't have to.

But don't throw your life away

just to get back at him.

I'm offering you a chance.

I didn't shoot that man.

Who did?

They'll kill me.

They will

if we don't lock them up.

C-Dog...

Give me your cash!
Hurry up!

Tomas Perez.

How'd it go down?

They said they wanted to front
this cracker at the store.

I didn't know
they were robbing him.

Then C-Dog gave me his gun...

Hector, blast this fool.

No way.
What?!

Come on. Let's go!
Come on!

I let them down.

I knew what they'd do.

So I cut down Langley Street
when they ran straight.

I haven't seen 'em since.

McSHANE:
I want him booked ASAP.

More sauerkraut, okay?

Hector Vasquez
wasn't the shooter.

I don't release
a bird in the hand.

That's good, right there.
Meaning you have an arrest
for the 6:00 News.

That kid went willingly
into that store.

A man is dead.
I want him arrested.

Murder in the commission
of a felony.

TAYLOR:
Then we have a problem.

What's that?

The vic's statement,
the soda can...

they're both compromised.

Moran's next on my list,
believe me.

But first I want this kid.

His confession is enough.

So what happens next week,
when the Aces strike again?

You're ruining my lunch.

Let Hector flip,
we'll cut off their head.

We need evidence against Perez.

Otherwise a jury will see three
punks all pointing fingers.

I'll get it.

Mac, that space I gave you?

It's running out.

So I ran a tox screen
on his blood.

There's no poison.

HAWKES:
I broke down the stomach
contents further.

No poison in anything
he ingested.

What were the contents again?

Chicken, arugula, chocolate.

All that effort

by Mrs. Heckman, he still got
a truffle past her.

Truffle?
Yeah.

No.

The carbonate content
wasn't that high.

This is a cheaper
milk chocolate.

Mrs. Heckman said she didn't
allow sweets in the house.

Maybe someone gave it to him.

Got it somewhere.

Chocolate was barely digested.

Swallowing it was probably
the last thing he did

before he fell.

The last thing he did.

BURN:
Did I mention
I wish birds could talk?

I think you did.

Check it out.

Candy wrappers.

Robins make their nests
from whatever's available,

even if it's trash
on the street.

That's a lot of candy
wrappers for this kind
of neighborhood.

You're right.

And there's not
a corner store
for blocks.

Melvin didn't come out here
for fresh air.

Do gargoyles have teeth?

Be careful.

Candy bars.

A stash.

He ate a piece,

but he couldn't have just one.

Alcohol makes him careless...

( metal creaking)

( yelling)

The most feared man in New York
dies from fear of his own wife.

And she was the only one
that loved him.

We've confirmed that Hector
was telling the truth

about where the shooter stood...

But it doesn't prove
who the shooter is.

This whole Moran thing has
really done a number on Flack.

He's been by the book.
He'll come out clean on this.

That's not what I mean.

What do you got?

Those bottles may have worked
in our favor after all.

FLACK:
Oh, nice.

You carrying a gun now, Perez?

I found that in the street.

I was on my way
to turn it in.
Uh-huh.

Don't bother looking for Hector.

We found him first.

He told us an interesting story.

Take off your jacket.

My jacket?

We got a warrant for it, maggot.

Take it off.

♪ ♪

The samples have
identical chromatograms.

And the spatter's consistent
with the shooter's position.

Perez thought it was
safe to keep his jacket

because he didn't
get blood on it.

Didn't expect to be brought down
by a bottle of white wine.

( grunting)

( gunshots)

Come on, let's go!

High-velocity
Chardonnay spatter.

Score one for the yuppies.

Because of its vast
array of components,

wine is one of the
few man-made subjects

that can be exclusively matched.

McShane's moving quickly

on Perez and Accosta.

He offered Hector a deal.

Gave him a chance to start over.

What about Moran?

I'm going to pick him up now.

Mac...

When he tampered with evidence,
he forfeited his badge.

He knew that.

You need to know that.

I do.

And I have a request.

They sent the big guns.

All right, this is
what's happening.

We're going to Central Booking.

You'll call your lawyer
on the way.

Detective Taylor spoke
to McShane, who agrees

that making
too much hay with you

will hurt the prosecution
against Tomas Perez.

McShane's going to recommend
forced retirement.

Save your pension.

Do you need me to call Andrea?

Nah. I'll sit her down tonight.

Ready?

Gonna hook me up here?

You and I are walking
out of here

like we're going for a smoke.