All language subtitles for Bones S05E14 The Devil in the Details

Come on then, William.
Let's not keep God waiting.

By this holy water
and by your precious blood,

- wash away all my sins, O Lord.
- Amen.

And may this holy water protect us

against evil in this world and in the next.

I smell something weird.

The new candles are smokier
than the last batch.

Oh, no!

Oh, my Lord!

Most glorious prince
of the heavenly armies,

Saint Michael, the Archangel.

God help us.

- Be gone, Satan!
- Pray with me, William.

Defend us in battle against

the rulers of this world of darkness,

against the spirits of
wickedness in high places!

Notice how I'm not tailgating?

- Adaptive cruise control.
- Mmm-hmm.

Right now I'm more worried
about a safe distance

- between you and me.
- Why?

Why? Because we're going to a church

and you tend to get blasphemous
in churches.

What, you're afraid that

if God smites me with lightning,
you could get hit?

Yeah, I'm usually standing
right beside you.

The Greek god Zeus also used lightning
to incinerate his enemies.

Although, Zeus apparently
had better aim than your God.

Exactly, stuff like that.
Just don't say stuff like that.

All right, are we... What's going on here?
Are we going the right way?

Yes. All I had to say was,
"St. Dominic's Roman Catholic Church,"

into the voice-activated GPS.

Car, could you please
get us there a little faster?

No, the accelerator is not voice-activated.
It's foot-activated, like a normal car.

- Right.
- Oh.

- You're joking. That's funny.
- Yeah.

Father Patrick,
I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth.

This here is my partner,
Dr. Temperance Brennan.

I have no idea what I'm going
to tell our congregation.

- He has horns.
- Yes, that would have

great meaning for your
superstitious followers.

Yeah, like me.

Was the sanctuary locked?

Yes. But doors and windows
mean nothing to unclean spirits.

Many cultures,
since the dawn of humanity,

have explained evil as the work

of mythical supernatural beings.

Evil is not mythical, Dr. Brennan.

It emanates from the opposition,

from Satan and his minions.

Yeah, Bones,
that looks like a demon.

All right? You understand?

Booth, if your superstitions

are getting the best of you,
I can continue my examination alone.

I am just saying a prayer for us

to protect us from evil, you understand?

I mean, come on, even you believe in evil.

I believe in genetic anomalies
and aberrant behavior.

Also, accidents.

Unfortunately,
prayers do not have much effect

on the physical world.

- Those are horns.
- Yes.

Smell indicates the remains were doused
in some kind of petrochemical accelerant.

Which also explains why
the fire is localized.

Right, and you just blew
right past the whole horn thing.

- Have you seen this before?
- No. It's fascinating.

Fascinating. Can't be real, right?

It must be some kind of plastic
or something, right?

No, they appear to be
composed of actual bone.

Those are real horns?

You okay, Booth?

Yeah, I'm all right, let's just...

What do you say we just get Hellboy
wrapped up and back to the Jeffersonian?

Come on, guys, let's go.

All right. Thank you.

I've been a coroner a long time.

I've seen a lot of bad things.

Define "bad things."

Murder, mayhem, torture,
catastrophe, suicide,

explosions, you know, the usual stuff.

But this, this gave me a chill.

What, because of the demonic
symbolism of the horns?

I just don't want to end up
hovering above my bed

with my head spinning
around 360 degrees.

That would not only be impossible,
but fatal.

- Right.
- Preliminary findings, Mr. Vaziri?

Victim is human, mostly.

Oh, he's only half joking.

- This extension of cartilage here...
- Wow, a tail.

The victim had a tail?

Unmistakably devilish.

Believing in fallen angels
and living by the tenets

of empirical science
are mutually exclusive.

Islam teaches us that Shaytan was
not a fallen angel, but a jinn.

Angels are created from light

and have no free will.

Jinns are created from smokeless fire

and use their free will to defy Allah.

Not an angel, not a jinn,

and yet, not your
run-of-the-mill man either.

The victim is Caucasian,
and judging by the partially

fused epiphyseal union of the clavicle,

19 to 24 years of age.

The accelerant was common motor oil,
available at any gas station.

At least it wasn't brimstone,
available only from hell.

I can't get much off
what's left of his clothes.

It's just a generic mixture
of cotton and man-made fibers.

What do you make of the horns,
Mr. Vaziri?

Whoa, hey!

Horns fall under my area.

Only if they aren't made of bone.

But they are made of bone.

Really? Huh!

I took a sample of your horns
and ran it through the mass spec.

In addition to calcium,
potassium, manganese and silica...

Bone, as Mr. Vaziri stated.

...I also found calcium carbonate
in the crystal form aragonite,

which is better known as coral.

Likely, the horns were cosmetic implants,
but as a result of

biocompatibility, the remodeled bone

grew within the coral.

What about the tail, do you think
it's a cosmetic implant as well?

Vestigial. It's a vestigial tail.

That's extremely rare
for a child to be born with one.

There is a man in West Bengal
with a 33 centimeter long tail,

who some believe is
the reincarnation of Hanuman.

Hey, I got an ID on our victim.

Is his last name Lucifer?

Can we please call him Hellboy
until we find out otherwise?

We found out otherwise.

Neal Lowery.

Turns out Neal's the only
missing guy with horns.

Go figure.

Where was his last known residence?

I'm guessing Mr. Stephen King's basement.

Havenhurst Sanitarium,

where he's being treated
for schizophrenia.

Things were fine
when Neal was little.

He was the happiest boy.

He loved cars, toy trucks.

Real smart kid.

And your son, he was born with a tail?

Yes, vestigial, the doctors called it.

When Neal was 14,
a teacher noticed he'd been beaten

and reported it to Child Services?

Yes, there was an investigation.

The boy's father had just died

and Neal was getting
really hard to handle,

and I reacted badly.

He started setting things on fire,

hung my mom's cat in the garage,
so she hit him.

I lost my temper.
But I got the counseling I needed

and it never happened again.

None of us knew what was happening.

We didn't know Neal was getting sick.

The counselor thought it might help Neal

to have the tail removed.

By then he wanted to keep it.

Why?

He thought he was marked by God.

Told people he was the son of Satan.

Neal was schizophrenic, it wasn't his fault.

Yeah, well, what about the horns?

When Neal was 16, he went off his meds
for the first time and ran away.

And when the police found Neal,
he'd had these horns implanted.

We never saw our Neal again.

- Not really.
- And when people asked

where he got the horns,

he said hell.

And he's been in and out
of the loony bin ever since.

Havenhurst was a good place, wasn't it?

Every cent I ever had
went to them for Neal.

He's crazy, but he's my brother.

So, if they did anything that got him killed,

negligent, whatever,

okay, they need to be held responsible.

This section of the peritoneal lining

is both thickened and inflamed,

which indicates the intestines
might have ruptured.

Cause of death?

Hard to tell based on sample size.

Did you find any fractured bones

in the x-rays that might have
perforated the intestines?

I don't think so.

- Whoo!
- Dr. Saroyan?

I know that smell.

Yup. Gangrene.

I've seen this before in junkies.

They inject between the toes,
it gets infected.

As you can see, there's a fracture
on the anterior aspect of the right T5.

There's no way that
ruptured the intestines.

I finished my analysis of
the contents of the boot treads.

In the treads, I found peat moss,

sand and perlite,
also known as potting soil,

as well as seeds
from a plant commonly known

as Christmas Roses.

Christmas Roses.
That doesn't sound very satanic.

Yeah, from the genus Hellebore. Sorry.

Even more interesting, though,
is the legend that Hellebore

is the key ingredient in a potion
meant to summon the devil.

Hmm. Of course it is.

Hey, did I mention that I interned

at a mental health facility in Philadelphia?

By "interned,"
do you mean "lived in"?

You know the old thing about

how all psychologists
need psychological help,

it's not true.

Is there any chance
that Hellboy wasn't crazy,

but actually possessed?

You mean by a demon?

Listen, if the Pope believes
in demonic possession,

then, you know, I at least got to ask.

I spoke briefly to the victim's psychiatrist.

Neal Lowery didn't show any symptoms

of demonic possession.

Okay, growing horns
isn't a sign of possession?

You mean you spoke seriously
on the matter

to a man with a university education?

Evil is out there, Bones.
There's just more than one explanation.

Yes, chemical imbalance,
poor role models, ignorance.

Neal Lowery was a simple schizophrenic
living a simple delusion.

See that? Simple question, clear answer.
Thank you, Sweets.

You could have asked him that
on the phone.

Listen, I brought Sweets along
so, you know, he could

sift through all the crazy-asses
at the loony bin,

see if any of them are homicidal.

I'm an excellent loony bin crazy-ass sifter.

You better get back inside. Come on.

Shouldn't these patients be
in straitjackets or rubber rooms?

Well, some of the patients are here
of their own free will.

There will be a more secure
locked down section

for those who've been committed.

- Oh, Booth?
- Yeah.

Look over there. That's Hellebore.

The question is, did Hellboy

trample on those flowers
before or after he was dead?

Hellboy couldn't have trampled on them
after he was dead.

- You sure about that?
- Yes.

- Agent Booth?
- Yeah.

Hi. I'm Lloyd.
I'm one of the nurse practitioners.

Dr. Copeland's expecting you.

Neal disappeared
the night before last.

He didn't show up for his morning meds.

So, you thought perhaps
he bolted that night?

- Yes.
- He's escaped before?

"Escape" implies incarceration.
We prefer the term AWOL.

The man was committed
to your insane asylum

because he believed he was
the mythical embodiment of evil.

"Escape" seems accurate.

Neal was genius at
finding nooks and crannies

where he'd hole up for days.

We were hoping he'd done that again,
that he'd show up when he got hungry.

We'd like to ask your patients and staff

if they know anything.

- Oh.
- Oh.

- Is that a problem?
- Staff,

I'm good with that. Patients...

These are damaged people, Agent Booth.

Their hold on reality is tenuous.

That's why
we brought our own psychologist.

- You're Dr. Sweets?
- Mmm-hmm.

You sounded more experienced
on the phone.

- He means you sounded older.
- I know.

I love it.

- It's not that funny, Booth.
- I think it is.

This is the arts and crafts area.

- The work is quite...
- Disturbing?

- fascinating.
- Yeah, fascinating.

So, did Neal Lowery
have any enemies here?

I mean, the whole presence of the devil,
the tails and the horns...

It must've been quite disrupting.

Actually, schizophrenic hallucinations
can be way worse than that.

Way, way worse. Yes, one boy with horns
would barely register.

Why don't you just
have the horns removed

as part of the cure?

I thought this would be a significant
and visible breakthrough for Neal

if he made the decision
without being forced.

Oh. What do you think, Sweets?

Oh, I buy it.

Thank you, Dr. Sweets.

You don't think Neal was killed
on the grounds here, do you?

That would not be good.

I'm quite certain it wouldn't
make any difference to Neal.

Neal, did he have any,

I don't know, fights with fellow

- people?
- Physically, no.

Arguments?

A case of competing delusions, yes,

that deteriorated into shouting
upon occasion, but nothing more.

Neviah, these people have

some questions for you
about Neal Lowery.

Do you feel up to speaking with them?

God warned me
you'd be here with questions.

God warns you?

Of course.

How else would I have known
to have this ready for you?

Oh. Okay. Wow. That's...

I'm gonna need another
word for "fascinating."

Creepy?

So, what are we to
learn from this, Neviah?

You are very... You're talented.

Obviously, she's replaced
the face of Longinus,

the soldier who drove his spear
through Christ's side

during the crucifixion, with her own face.

Neviah believes herself to be

the earthly manifestation
of the angel Uriel.

She's put the murder victim's face
in place of the crucified devil.

Are you confessing to murder?

You mind if I conduct the conversation,
Dr. Brennan?

No. No, but you might want to know
that the placement of the lance here

in the victim's side exactly matches

the location where the victim was struck

in real life.

So, this is true?

I only tell the truth.

As Dr. Copeland told you,

I'm an angel.

I just don't think it's wise
to have Dr. Brennan present

- when we question Neviah.
- Why?

What if Neviah told you
that she's an angel,

something she believes
with her whole heart,

how would you respond?

I'd tell her that angels don't exist,
except, of course, in works of fiction,

such as the Bible and in children's books.

Right, after which all we'll get from Neviah
is argument, no answers.

Sweets is right. Bones, you're out.

I have to admit,
it's eerie the way when I move,

she follows me as though she knows
exactly where I am.

That's because she can see you.

It's a window, Bones.
It's not a two-way mirror.

Right.

Perhaps I could wait
in some other part of your facility?

Yes, certainly.

This isn't really a good use of my time.

Thank you. Neviah, could you describe
to me the process

by which you create your paintings?

God guides my hand.

I would imagine that God guides
all of your actions, right,

you being an angel.

I only exist to do his will.

Did you know that Neal Lowery is dead?

Of course. God told me.

- God told you?
- Does God speak to you?

Does he come to you in visions?

He takes over my body
and performs his miracles through me.

Did you kill Neal?

He was a demon. I am an avenging angel.

It was my duty.

I used the holy lance.

- Same as in the painting?
- Mmm-hmm.

And where is this lance now?

It's right here.

Oh, it's invisible. Right.

It's gonna be hard
getting fingerprints off that.

Hello.

Can I offer you juice, cookies?

Perhaps a nice
serotonin reuptake inhibitor?

Thank you, but I just ate.

Hi. I'm Dr. Phillip Womack.

I am Dr. Temperance Brennan.
Temperance would be fine.

Beautiful name.

Unfortunately, most of the patients here
don't exhibit much temperance.

Hence the need to fill them with drugs.

I would probably medicate as well

if I was forced to interact
with psychiatrists all day.

- No offense.
- None taken.

Ours is a subjective profession

that often marginalizes
the importance of empirical data.

It is refreshing to meet a psychiatrist
with such a grounded perspective.

Hmm.

But I assure you we have been
getting very good results

with psychopharmacology,
as well as electroconvulsive therapy.

Perhaps you'd like to see?

I would enjoy that immensely.

Who knows? I may be able to

convert you to the wonders of psychiatry.

Hello, Phillip. I see you've met Dr. Brennan.

- Yes.
- Where were you two going?

Dr. Womack
was going to show me around.

I don't know if now is the time, Phillip.

- Lloyd is distributing medication.
- Yes, of course. I should assist.

Perhaps later, Temperance?

I'd like that.

Did Phillip try to cure you of anything?

- He's a patient?
- For almost six years now.

Believe it or not, he came a long way
before plateauing with this delusion.

I thought we had quite a lot in common.

- Hey, Lloyd.
- That's right.

Did you find cause of death?

Looks like the victim
was struck in the frontal bone by

a weapon approximately
two centimeters in diameter.

Possibly the same object
that struck him in the ribs.

Okay, so we've got
a fracture to the forehead...

And a Colles' fracture on
the right distal radius.

All delivered by an invisible,
heavenly lance.

If it was invisible,
it struck with a mighty force.

What if, despite her insanity,

what the young woman saw was,
in fact, evil?

- So you do believe in the devil.
- As I said.

No, you told me what your religion says.

I know Shaytan to be real.

I've been in his presence.

I look into his eyes every day.

I should put my efforts
towards identifying the weapon.

Yes. That would be good.

Jung believed that art provides
an insight into the unconscious.

Yeah, I know. I know the drill.
I assisted an art therapist in college.

You can take one look at

Van Gogh's Starry Night,

the dark blues
and the violent brushstrokes.

It's no wonder he killed himself
after painting it.

But Neviah's work seems conflicted.

The central image is straight
out of Hi�ronymus Bosch,

but the background is full of warm
and vibrant colors.

And her brushstrokes are calm.

There's no turmoil

or rage in her work.

It could indicate a cold, measured person

disconnected from an emotional life
that's too painful to confront.

Hold on. This is weird.

The topography of the paint
is unusually thick right here.

This could mean that there's
something underneath the image.

Sometimes when an artist
bowdlerizes their own work,

infrared refrectography can show us
what's under that top coat of paint.

Oh. Wow.

That's one of the nurses

from the hospital.

He's a demon.

Who has just killed the devil,

Neal Lowery.

I don't think you need Jung
to figure this one out.

Hold up, Lloyd!

- Hey, there, Lloyd. How's it going?
- Hey.

- Turn off your vehicle?
- Sure.

What are you doing here?

Checking out security tapes

to see if Neal vamoosed
through the front door?

You recognize this picture?

You're not seriously treating
this as evidence, are you?

What's your relationship
with Neal Lowery?

I was nice to the guy.
That's my job.

- I'd like to go home.
- No, no, no, no.

You mind popping the trunk?

What? No.

Not unless you have a search warrant,
which I'm guessing you don't.

Really? Look at this here.
Excuse me, Bones.

See? "All visitors and employees agree
to vehicle search upon entry

"and exit."

So, we don't need one. Right, Bones?

- We don't need one.
- Excuse me.

Let me just grab that for you.

You stay nice and comfy
in your chair there.

We found evidence of gangrene
between Neal's toes.

He was injecting something there.
It's common practice for heroin addicts.

Hey, Bones, look at this.
Guy's got his own personal dojo back here.

Those appear to be the same diameter
as the bruise on Neal Lowery's skull.

Swords. Nunchakus.

Look at this.

Drugs and heroin.

Looks like we found
Neal Lowery's heroin dealer.

None of that stuff's mine.

I mean, one of the patients
must have planted it in my car.

No, no, I really would not advise you
going down that route.

- It's the truth.
- It's the truth?

You know,
we're gonna find your fingerprints

all over this stuff,
so don't get caught in a lie.

Right? Right, okay, so,

why don't we start with
the dorky martial arts stuff?

Nunchakus and shuriken
aren't dorky, all right?

They're weapons of a true master.

You see, the fact that you
just called it "shuriken"

proves my dorky theory.

So, drugs, did you steal them
from the hospital pharmacy?

No. How do you know I didn't buy them
from someone else who stole them?

Okay. Look, people say
you're really a good guy.

- I am.
- Yeah, so,

what do you say we try and tell the truth?

Look,
Neal's medications didn't work.

All right, I mean, the tranqs
and the antipsychotics,

they turned him into a zombie,
but they didn't make him feel any better.

This did?

Yeah. I mean,
heroin removed his agitation.

I mean, for the first time,
you could talk to the guy.

How did Neal pay for the heroin?

I took his meds in exchange.

- For your own use?
- No, no, I volunteer

at a community outreach
for the homeless.

A lot of those people need meds.

You see? You really are a good guy.

Yeah, I am, I am a good guy.

You are a good guy.
The only problem is that

these nunchakus,

they could probably be
the murder weapon.

- Why would I kill Neal?
- It doesn't matter if you're a good guy.

I mean, you're a drug dealer.

Drug dealers, they get into arguments
with other clients.

No, no, I was helping him.

When was the last time you saw him?

In the dayroom.
We talked, and then later that evening,

his brother came looking for him,
but he was gone.

Mmm-hmm. I'm still holding you
on controlled substances.

You believe I didn't kill Neal, right?

It doesn't matter what I believe.
Matters what I can prove.

Anything on the nunchakus?

They are completely clean.

There are dents, though,
so they've been used.

Can you rule them out
as the murder weapon?

Are you asking me to do an experiment?

With Arastoo.

Why are you saying his name like that?

- Like what?
- Arastoo.

Like you're chewing on his name.

Arastoo said that
he looks at the devil every day.

Maybe he has low self-esteem.

Or...

You know what they call us, right?

"They," being?

Muslims, some Muslims,
the ones over there trying to kill us.

Yeah, they call us the Great Satan.

Oh.

Look, here, what I found.

Radiating microfractures in the cartilage
of the victim's vestigial tail.

Radiating microfractures
plus a ruptured intestine?

- What does that mean?
- He was slammed into something.

Perhaps in fact he did wrestle
with an archangel and lose.

As it should be.
The devil lost, as he always must.

I will inform Dr. Brennan.

"The devil lost"?

"As he always must"?

What if Arastoo means us?

Arastoo is a very sweet,
gentle guy, you know?

I know, but that doesn't mean

that in his heart
he doesn't look down on us.

Do you want to work with someone
who thinks you're the Great Satan?

No, I don't want to be the Great Satan.
I don't even want to be a minor demon.

You want me to talk to him?

Yes. But unfortunately,
dopey interpersonal crap

falls under my job description.

The discrepancies from
the pharmacy have always been

- so small, well within breakage.
- We understand.

"We understand"? Why do we understand?

Lloyd Robertson was a nurse practitioner.

He had pharmacy privileges, right?
He cooked the drug log.

Patients liked Lloyd, the staff.

He honestly wanted to help people,

or at least fooled me
into thinking that was the case.

So much for penetrating
psychological insights.

Can I speak to you for a moment?

I've listened to you take shots
at my profession,

and that's okay,
I'm a big boy, a tolerant man.

But I want you to think about something.

I spend every working hour of every day
trying to help people who are living in hell.

That's an honorable way to spend a life,

perhaps more honorable than figuring out

what happened to dead people
who are already beyond

pain and suffering.

Intentions, however misguided, do count.
I understand that.

I hope you won't think
I'm too picky when I point out that

that wasn't an actual apology.

But perhaps it's the best you can manage.

Oh, look at that, you're shaking hands.

Great, everyone's made up
and we're friends now. Great.

No!

Just get away, get away!

It's all right, Phillip.
Do you hear me?

Just relax and let the medicine help.

It's not the right medicine!
I need the right medicine!

What's the right medicine, Phillip?

I want the medicine Lloyd gave me.
Where is Lloyd?

I need the special medicine. I'm a doctor.

Lloyd gave you special medicine?

I'm a doctor. I'm a doctor.

I'm gonna need to search this facility.

I apologize, Dr. Copeland.

I apologize for undervaluing your work.

Test number one.

Now, I've placed sensors in this dummy

to register the impact
of the nunchaku strikes.

Ha! Ha!

Dr. Hodgins, with nunchakus,

it's very important that you...

Are you all right?

Son of a bitch.

As I was saying, nunchakus
are deceptively difficult to maneuver

if you've had no practice.

May I?

Okay.

Knock yourself out. I did.

What are you, some kind of Persian ninja?

That can't be right.

Okay, now that's better.

- Was this the murder weapon?
- Uh...

The diameter of the weapon matches,
but, see, okay,

nunchakus swing on an axis
because of the chain, right, which means

the force increases exponentially

along the length of the striking surface.

But the victim's wound was proportional
along the length of the weapon.

If Lloyd the drug-dealing nurse
killed Neal the demonic schizophrenic,

then this was not the weapon.

So how long have you been
practicing psychiatry, Dr. Womack?

Longer than you have, Dr. Sweets.

Yes, my youth has often been an obstacle
to gaining trust with patients.

That's why I often pretend
to be one of them.

Oh, that's interesting.
Okay, so in order to gain trust

from the patients at the ward,
you pretend to be mentally ill yourself.

I'm a natural actor.

It helped. Lloyd cooperated
and treated me like I was a patient

instead of his immediate superior.

What about Dr. Copeland?

Ethan is a very fine psychiatrist,
but he's very conservative

when it comes to the distinction
between doctor and patient.

- A traditionalist?
- Yes,

exactly, Dr. Sweets, exactly.

I'm sorry, Ethan,
but this is an official investigation

and I must be honest.

So you and Lloyd Robertson
treated Neal Lowery together?

Only with regard to medication.

Neal and I shared a few secrets
I did not divulge. Patient confidentiality.

I don't suppose you'd tell me what.

No, I couldn't possibly.

I breached patient confidentiality once
and I still feel bad about it.

Hmm.

Was this regarding Neal Lowery or...

I'm sorry, Dr. Sweets,

I have nothing whatsoever
to say on the matter. It's closed.

I'll ask that you extend me
that professional courtesy.

Sure.

You found something?

Yes, cause of death.

Excellent. What happened?

First, I'd like to clarify something.

After we talked about my beliefs,
you were clearly upset.

What? No, that's not true.

My words could have been
construed as a Muslim

referring to America as the Great Satan.

I'm not familiar with that phrase.
Could we get back to this?

I found microfractures in the metacarpals
on the same arm with the Colles' fracture.

I love this country, Dr. Saroyan.

When I said I see the devil's face daily,

you know I served as a translator in Iraq?

Normal day, milk run to an outlying village
to talk about water,

and an IED took out our Humvee.

Oh, my God.

Two dead, three wounded,
and I was the only one left conscious.

I'm a translator. I use words.

But coming towards us with an AK-47,
an insurgent.

He raised it, intending to finish us off.

- And that was the devil?
- No, no.

I shot this man in the heart.

The devil, that evil,
I saw it in his eyes, sure.

But it was in me too
when I pulled that trigger.

You were defending your unit, Mr. Vaziri.

This man lay dead at my feet.

I searched his body for identification,

and I found a photograph of him
with his little boy,

his wife laughing, a family.

Tell me that the devil
did not win on that day.

You didn't lose your faith.
You pray five times a day.

I have to believe that Allah
will show me how to live.

I found microfractures
on the maxillary and mandibular.

He was electrocuted?

The current must have passed
through his hand,

traveled across his body,
then out his backside.

It was the muscle spasms
that caused his intestines to rupture.

I should let Dr. Brennan know right away.

Of course.

I did think that...

Wonder if you considered us

to be the Great Satan.
I am familiar with that phrase.

I know. I was there when you told
Dr. Hodgins that his T-shirt,

which read, "I am with the Great Satan,"

is not suitable work attire.

Was Neal Lowery receiving shock therapy?

No. Why?

Neal Lowery died from being electrocuted.

ECT equipment generates

a maximum 225 volts.

And there's a fail-safe mechanism.

Our analysis indicates

that Neal Lowery endured
an extended shock

of at least 480 volts.

Is there anywhere in this complex

where 480 volts might be generated?

I think it would be best if we get
an electrical engineer to answer that.

There's a guy in Ward 4
who believes he's Thomas Edison.

Sorry.

These are the electrical plans
for the retrofit

that was completed
at Havenhurst 15 years ago.

All the wiring and the breakers,
there's nothing more than 225 volts.

I'm scanning the original plans,
and they're from 1908.

Okay.

So, on the original blueprint,

there was a four-wire,
600-volt transformer in the basement.

The southwest corner of the basement

where the old generator is installed
was sealed off.

Except for these all-access panels.

Yeah, but they'd need those
in case of a fire.

Dr. Copeland said that
Neal Lowery had a knack

for searching out nooks
and crannies to hide out in.

Okay, the access panel
should be down this corridor to the left.

- Wow, you got to be kidding me.
- Wait. Aha!

I also have an app that
gives you song titles.

- All you have to do is hum a few notes...
- Maybe later, okay?

Okay, it should be behind all of this.

Look at that.

Careful.

Check this out.

Someone was cooking heroin.

So, maybe Phillip
follows Neal down here,

sees him using, decides to administer

a little electroshock on the spot.

Burnt flesh on the transformer.

And blood on the water pipe.

- Booth.
- Yeah.

Oh, my God.

The electrical circuit
must have been completed

when Neal backed into this water pipe.

Look what I found.

"Welcome to hell."

I ran a simulation of the electrocution

based on the current that was generated
by the equipment at Havenhurst.

- Wait, but he's not dead.
- Yeah, I know.

Based on Neal's age and weight,
plus the clothes he was wearing,

that current would've thrown him clear.

He should have survived.

Plus the muscular contortions and spasms

were nowhere near violent enough
to fracture his wrist.

So, then what happened?

What if Neal Lowery wasn't
wearing his rubber-soled boots?

Okay, give me a second.

You know, I just don't think

that someone who just
shot himself up with heroin

is likely to put his boots on.

- Why?
- 'Cause he's on the nod.

That means that he vomits
and succumbs to the euphoria.

Wow, listen to you, all street.

Maybe Phillip administered
the heroin to Neal

as though it were some kind
of legitimate medicine.

No. Between the toes,
that's not legitimate.

The guy is crazy, Sweets.

But he's consistent.

Phillip operates rationally
behind his delusions.

He believes he's a doctor.

Angela, can you call up
a photo of Neal's boots

- as they were found on the remains?
- Mmm-hmm.

Okay.

Here.

Okay, let me get in closer.

Neal Lowery was left-handed.
He didn't tie these shoes.

What? How can you tell?

A left-handed person double knotting,
the second knot would loop behind.

This one loops in front.

Yeah, but still it must have been
a left-handed person who tied the knot.

Only he or she must have
been facing the victim.

Oh, that is amazing.

I think it's also very confusing.

I am ready to run the simulation

with the boots removed
from the equation.

That's it. He was electrocuted first,

and then his boots put back on
after he was dead.

Double knots. That's the way
someone would treat a child.

I say we're looking
for somebody left-handed.

I say the killer may have left
his or her DNA on the laces.

It's not possible. It's just not possible.
Gabe wouldn't kill his brother.

Mrs. Lowery, what you
and your family went through,

it's almost unbearable.

Gabe loved his brother.
Why would he do such a thing?

We know that Gabe went to visit Neal

the night he disappeared.

We believe that there was another patient

named Phillip who told Gabe
about Neal's hideout in the basement.

And Gabe found Neal shooting up heroin.

Gabe struck Neal with a pipe.

Neal fell back into a transformer
and was electrocuted.

But the church, the burning on the altar?

We all become angry at God
sometimes, Mrs. Lowery.

Who could blame him?

Why did God do this to my family?
We were good people.

And then, this.

I'm sorry for your pain.

You?

You can't even imagine my pain.

I need to ask you some things.

You going to ask me
about God and the devil?

Yes.

You're going to ask me how God can place
such a burden on good people.

No. I'm going to ask you

how you still believe in a kind God
after a case like this.

Is my faith shaken?

Yeah. Mmm-hmm. It is.

- It is?
- Yeah.

I'll go home tonight and I'll lie in bed.

I'll toss and I'll turn and I'll beat myself up.

And I'll question everything.

Will you get your faith back?

Always have in the past.

So you have faith that
you will retain your faith?

- Why?
- Because, Bones,

the sun will come up
and tomorrow's a new day.

I know that feeling.

- Really?
- Mmm-hmm.

You know what it feels like
to get your faith back?

When I see effects and
I'm unable to discern the cause,

my faith in reason
and consequences is shaken.

Then what happens?

Two plus two equals four.

I put sugar in my coffee
and it tastes sweet.

The sun comes up
because the world turns.

These things are beautiful to me.

There are mysteries
I will never understand,

but everywhere I look,

I see proof that for every effect

there is a corresponding cause,

even if I can't see it.

I find that reassuring.

And life is good again.

- Life is very good.
- Yes, it is.

ENGLISH - US - SDH