Original subtitles

Wow, I love it already.

I can't believe we're doing this.

Is that the lockbox?

Broker gave me the combination.

He's doing a walk-through

in Seven Hills.

Owners are out.

Wow.

Wait till you see the master.

Oh, my God.

This is gorgeous.

Amazing.

What?

Want to snoop around?

Hey.

What do you think?

I don't know, yeah. It's nice?

Looks good.

Out it out.

No, seriously, I think I hear a car.

Will you relax? No, really.

You're paranoid.

(laughs)

Oh, my God.

I could get used to this place.

I bet you could.

I could.

You're an animal.

The backyard is the best part of the house.

Really? Is there a Jacuzzi?

Oh, my God.

Looks like something out of a magazine.

Cal and Monica Newman.

Owners of the house. My guess, second marriage.

'Cause she's a babe and he's...

He's, uh...

got a good sense of humor.

.380 auto caliber.

GRISSOM: Gunshot, right temple.

Women don't usually shoot themselves in the head,

do they, Catherine?

Well, gunshots do a number on your face,

so typically women prefer pills.

So, what are we calling this, murder, suicide, what?

Is the husband around?

No.

Well, do the math:

Dead female spouse

plus missing husband...

equals murder.

Okay, Warrick, hit it.

(beeping)

White female, multiple bruising...

Bullet hole to the temple doesn't help.

.380 auto on the side.

Yeah, somebody manhandled her pretty good

before they killed her.

Mm-hmm.

Reminds me of my daughter.

She used throw butts out the window, too.

The Newmans have kids?

A kid. Son, 15, Max Newman.

He's MIA like the father.

The secretary said

he went out for lunch and never came back.

I checked the garage... three cars.

None of the hoods are hot.

We're missing something.

Grissom. A Mr. Grissom.

Where would I find Mr. Grissom?

Great, great. Thank you very much. Mr. Grissom?

Hi, I'm Augie Heitz.

This is my listing.

Someone died, I know.

It's a terrible thing.

But we got people knocking down awnings,

stomping through the flowerbeds.

How am I supposed to sell this house?

You're not.

It's a crime scene.

Mr. Heitz, you're Mr. Newman's broker.

Have you seen your client lately?

What, you kidding?

I mean, this is actually

the beauty of the service I provide.

My clients never have to see me.

They don't even have to be home when I show their house.

Do you always give out the combination to your lockboxes?

It's illegal.

It's a hot market.

Um...

You know, I had a fish on the line.

Potential bidding war and...

Look... (clears throat)

I only give out the combination to people that I really trust.

All right, look, I read rooms for a living.

That closet was tossed. The carpet lit up.

So, I'm going to ask you again.

What were you doing in there besides copulating?

It was my idea.

Right. Well, we found this laptop on the vanity still on.

You didn't play with it, too, did you?

Hey, Warrick. Yeah?

Check this out.

It's a little thin for blood, isn't it?

Yeah.

What do you...?

Tastes like sugar.

Huh?

Erythrosine.

Red dye number three.

Hummingbirds

do love the color red.

You've been watching

way too much Discovery Channel.

This guy needs a girl.

I'm going to check out the cabana.

No visible footprints.

Doesn't mean someone wasn't out here.

Grab the LS.

Yeah.

Hey. Sara.

I am so sorry.

I paged you two hours ago.

Right. Uh, it's my day off.

I was up in Pahrump at some vineyard.

You told me to get a life, remember?

Did I?

I'm sorry, but I needed you.

Dispatch called in a 419 at Tuscadero High School.

You're on your own.

On my own?

Solo.

See you around.

Solo?

So, does this mean when I come in on my day off

I get to work solo?

Process.

Whoa.

I got what looks like two sets of prints.

Ballpark in a size ten

from the house.

And what looks like a...

size 12, possibly

from the pool.

There were definitely two guys here, Griss.

Now we just need to figure out if one of them was Mr. Newman.

Hey, fellas.

Looks like the husband pulled a Clark Kent

and left all his clothes behind.

Couldn't have gone far.

I got his wallet, credit card

and keys.

(water sloshing)

You hear that?

What is that?

Oh, yeah, it's the pool.

It's been doing it all night.

Sounds like it's clogged.

Did someone check this pool?

First officer said it was clear.

Does that pool look clear to you?

Uh... no.

One of you guys is going in.

No.

(clears throat)

I'll go in the pool.

Oh, man!

Male d.b.

You have dinner yet?

Yeah. Why?

You might be seeing it again.

(siren wailing)

Mandy Kirk.

Seventeen.

Seventeen.

Senior.

Janitor found her.

Hi, David. Hey.

Eviscerated.

Maybe a wild animal.

They picked up a mountain lion last week in Henderson.

Suburbs are encroaching on the hinterlands.

We'll know more after the autopsy.

It's a cheerleader.

She had to have good lungs.

How come nobody heard her scream?

Didn't have to do much of a "Y."

Attack did it for me.

Died of exsanguination.

Bled out.

Trauma to her internal organs.

Spleen, liver, heart,

they all sustained multiple mastications.

Hmm.

You able to isolate the species?

From the tooth mark on her left ninth rib.

Dog maybe?

Teeth marks are too small for a mountain cat.

They're human.

You're lying.

You can see the bridgework on this impression

of a premolar and an adjoining molar.

Can you tell how old the attacker is?

Well, I can't give you the exact age,

but wisdom teeth erupt between 16 and 30.

And there's no evidence of a wisdom molar

on this impression.

Thanks.

Oh, one more thing.

I found an infection in the mucus

overlying the large intestine.

This girl suffered from the E-coli bacteria.

E-coli?

Unsanitary conditions?

Or a bad burger.

So, whoever did this to her also has E-coli.

Oh, yeah.

Spiked temp, vomiting, lower GI problems, the works.

Smoking gun.

(vacuum whoosing)

Let it go!

I mean, I don't get it.

She's not even slated to work,

she comes in on her day off,

and she gets to work solo.

You still harping on the solo thing?

You know every time you work with me, you learn something.

(chuckling)

Is that right? Yes.

I live here. Why can't I go in?

I want to see my father.

I'm Cal's ex-wife, Jeri Newman,

and this is our son Max.

We have the right to an answer.

And we have a right to protect the crime scene.

What's going on?

I can't tell you anything until I get all the details.

I'm sorry.

Catherine?

Can I have a moment, please?

We need someone to identify the body.

Ms. Newman.

Would you come with me, please?

What about me?

Uh, no, honey.

You stay right here.

No skin separation.

Minimal gaseous buildup.

This guy's been in here under 12 hours.

According to his office, he left work at 1:00.

It's about right.

What is that, some kind of filter?

It's an anti-vortex filter.

Hey, I'm from Jersey. We swim at the shore.

It's designed to keep his hand out of that pipe.

But it's missing a few screws.

Ms. Newman, is this your ex-husband?

(crying) It's Cal.

Virtual tour.

Right on, Archie.

Before and after photos of the crime scene.

(imitating Elvis Presley) Thank you. Thank you very much.

I got this off a hard drive

from the computer you recovered at the crime scene.

Looks like a Peter Croft sculpture.

You know your art. You a collector?

What? On my salary?

Guggenheim's as close as I get

to something like that.

Oh, I haven't been yet.

Really?

Well, if you want a tour, I know a docent.

A docent.

So, you think that's legit?

House like this, probably not a knock-off.

You'd be surprised.

The rich go cheap to stay rich, know what I mean?

Yeah. Let me show you the after photos.

Please.

Same spot.

And, uh, what happened to the sculpture?

Good question.

You saying somebody lifted it?

Well, they don't call them open houses for nothing.

Put your house on the market,

your privacy's up for grabs, too.

The Newmans unlocked their door

to anybody with Internet access.

What are soccer bunnies?

Well, each cheerleader is assigned a soccer player.

She's his bunny.

Gives him gifts the night before the big game,

places his wake-up call.

Sounds sexual.

Yeah, that's what I asked the principal

but he said no.

He said that, uh,

it's all good, clean fun.

Gifts are inspirational videos

like, uh, Rocky

and wake-up calls are pep talks, nothing more.

Yeah, well, I'm not sure the principal's

up to speed on teenagers' sexual habits.

Yeah, well, victim Mandy

was soccer bunny to a Chuck Darwell.

And when I called him on his cell this morning,

he said that he hooked up with Mandy

after every game except last night.

Said he hadn't seen her last night.

He in class? Hospital.

Got rushed there two minutes ago.

(school bell rings)

I bet I know why.

No surprise here.

He drowned.

We found his right hand

caught in a pool filter.

Lack of bruising, no bleeding wounds.

Indicates his circulatory system had stopped.

This was postmortem.

Any significance

to the marks on his chest?

Don't know. Not a rash.

Some kind of abrasion.

Maybe even a friction burn.

Definitely perimortem.

X-rays reveal

several broken ribs

and he's got a bruise on his forehead.

He could have taken a bad fall.

Or he could have been beaten.

Maybe.

How about the new wife?

No physical findings for sexual assault

though I did send a kit to DNA.

Looks like cause of death was a single gunshot to the head.

I'll know more later.

You always tell me that.

Yes, I do.

Depth of bruising

gives us a timeline.

Apparent thumbprint on her neck came first,

the, uh, prints on her hands second.

Major impression on top.

It's some kind of

recoil bruise on her palm.

She didn't shoot herself.

(screaming and gunshot)

She had help.

Of course, no house is complete without a pool.

Why live in Vegas if you don't have a pool?

Mm, water's warm.

Want to come by and take a dip?

Quite the saleswoman.

Come on, jump...

It's got to be a fantasy of yours, huh?

Huh, double feature.

You know you want this.

Blam.

You can say that again.

Blam.

Down, boys.

I probably shouldn't even be saying this, but, uh...

sex is on my mind all the time.

Hey, Archie, freeze it.

And, uh...

Who's that in the background?

Hmm?

Oh, that guy in the mirror. Good.

Archie, help us out.

Yup, I got him.

Nice.

Hey, this is the broker.

I just did a background check on that guy.

Half a dozen robberies in the houses he has listed.

Art, antiques, stuff like that.

Like the Peter Croft sculpture.

Exactly.

Looks like Augie was helping himself to a little bit

more than the artwork.

I understand, Mr. Darwell.

Have your son's wisdom teeth come in yet?

What?

Whoever killed Amanda Kirk

ingested her organs, Mr. Darwell. Left teeth marks.

Excuse me.

Hi, uh, Chuck, I'm with the crime lab.

I'm going to ask you to show me your back teeth.

Give us an odontological impression.

I didn't see Mandy last night, I swear.

You have no legal right

to question or to touch my son.

I want you out of here.

Now.

Is that stomach contents?

That's right, officer.

Anything he threw up no longer belongs to him.

PD, public domain.

It's going to tell us everything we need to know.

Look, anyone could have lifted that Peter Croft.

I thought this was about murder.

Oh, it is.

(cell phone rings)

Excuse me.

Yeah?

Hey, yeah...

Hey, can I call you back?

Okay, then.

Bye-bye.

I'm sorry. Where were we?

The tape.

It wasn't anybody's face on that tape; it was your face.

I recorded their house for the virtual tour.

That's what I do to sell houses.

Selling house as a front for porno

a little blackmail on the side.

What are you talking about?

I have done nothing wrong.

Oh, you're innocent in all this?

I admit to having lust in my heart.

Lust doesn't live in your heart.

I'm going to need that DNA sample.

Well, my DNA is your DNA.

Great.

Look, for what it's worth I can tell you

at least one guy other than her husband

that saw Monica in the buff on a weekly basis.

Say, "Ah."

Ah.

You must get a lot of ass on a job like this, huh?

I'm the pool guy, it's one of the perks of the job.

One minute I'm scooping leaves,

the next I'm staring at...

Yeah, I get it.

The last time you were there,

did you happen to see anything out of the ordinary?

What? You mean sexual?

Maybe.

No.

But, uh...

Newman had a temper.

He and his kid Max

were always going at it.

What are these, huh?

Where did you get these?!

I thought the old man

was going to beat his ass

but... Newman just screamed some more and took off.

You mind if I take a look in your cab?

Sure.

Well, that's a coincidence.

Newman's anti-vortex filter

was missing three screws.

I can explain, okay?

I remove them screws from the filter,

so I'd have an excuse to go back.

Oh, you mean, like, a "leave-behind"?

Yeah. I figured the more I was around...

The more she'd want you.

Oh, yeah.

Well, the lab wants more of you, too.

We're going to need your fingerprints

and a DNA sample.

Take whatever you want. I've got nothing to hide.

Anything from the pool?

Some hairs, I may have found a filling.

Tributlyltin oxide, aluminum sulfate

quaternary ammonium.

Chemicals in the vic's lungs

match the chemicals in the pool water.

Anything from his head wound?

Trace matches the side of the pool.

No surprises.

Mildew.

Hmm?

Aureobasidium pullulans.

One of the very few fungi

that can withstand the desert temperature.

Gives us possible transfer.

Exactly, and here's the basic chemistry of the transfer:

Add sugar water spoiled from the heat,

mix in some human biofilm, you got yourself

an all-you-can-eat mildew buffet.

Cal Newman wore size tens.

So, assuming our killer wore the size 12...

He may have transferred mildew from the pool to the house.

Normally I don't like to speak ill of the dead,

but, uh, Mr. Newman's sperm had company.

Bad company.

Look at D7.

Three alleles.

Genetics only gives you one

from each parent.

Which can only mean one thing:

Menage d'allele.

She was cheating on her husband.

What about stutter?

Percentage is too high.

We're looking at a minor and a major sample.

Minor donor?

The husband.

Major donor?

Pool man.

Nope.

The broker?

Ibid.

Major donor

is still unaccounted for.

How's it coming?

Good. I'm almost there. Hang on.

Sometime this year.

Okay, I think that's the angle.

All right, where do I stand?

Back up.

Keep going.

Keep going. Big steps?

Little steps?

Big. Keep going.

Keep going.

I go any further, I'll be in the closet.

Well, go in the closet.

Oh, you got to be kidding me.

What?

How's this?

What the hell is that?

(scoffs)

(clattering)

These slime will do anything to sell a house, huh?

Sometimes, reflections beget reflections.

I figured if I could get a glimpse of the Augie cutout,

maybe I could get a glimpse of the cameraman.

Check out the lamp.

Her stepson, Max.

Did you get any DNA

off the cigarette butts?

Yeah, we did.

So, let's get Greg to compare the reference sample

and see if we found our major donor.

Driving someone else's porcelain bus?

Suspect's dinner from last night.

The coroner left this

in your mail slot.

Can you read it for me?

What's this look like, Greg?

Uh, Caesar salad.

Oh, and Pele used

an interesting dressing.

POP.

Angel dust. Hallucinogen.

Well, it acts like one.

But POP's such a powerful drug, it's in a class all its own:

Disassociative anesthetic.

Brain disassociates from the body.

Yeah, after it takes you

through the paces.

How many milligrams?

Uh... 20.

Dude's dose was off the charts.

I'm surprised he's still alive.

Yeah.

Too bad everybody didn't make it.

Tell me this is raw chicken skin.

Well, it's raw... and it's definitely skin.

My son was nowhere near that pool.

He was at Red Rock Canyon...

No, no, no, no, Red Rock Canyon.

No, a field trip. Oh, I'm getting that.

What I'm not getting is this.

Oh, now, this is disgusting.

Look, whatever Cal

wanted to do

behind closed doors, that was his business.

This is not for my eyes

or for his eyes.

This is not the first time, is it, Max?

Can I plead the Fifth or something?

Max,

we found two sperm donors

on the sample from your stepmother.

Your father's and yours.

Now I know why you were spending

all that time at your father's.

Mom, look, I...

Mom...

I don't want to hear a word from you.

Well, let me lay it out for you.

So you must've thought you won the lottery.

And the only thing standing between you and the winning ticket

was your father.

(yelling)

What's your shoe size, Max?

Twelve.

This can't be happening.

Yes, it's happening.

Okay, this is a fling.

Okay, it's not real.

You're confused. You're a kid.

I killed my father

for you.

That's not possible.

How come?

Because I can't swim.

He's telling the truth.

When Max was a child,

he had this terrible pool accident.

He nearly drowned.

We need that report ASAP.

Your temperature is spiking.

Of course, you didn't know Mandy had E. Coli

when you... ate her, did you?

No, no, I would never do that.

You would on POP.

Normal brain, neurons send a message

synapses blink on and off.

On POP, synapses never stop firing.

Like your entire brain is on constant DSL.

You and Mandy

were on the soccer field.

You were cranked up.

Do you remember anything?

Yeah.

But I don't remember killing her. I swear to God.

Lieutenant Lockwood's going to arrest you.

We'll assign you an advocate.

So, how does a kid who can't swim drown his father?

The kid didn't do it.

Look, we found the father's blood

on the underside of the pool ledge.

And his body at the bottom of the pool

with abrasions on his chest.

So there was a struggle in the water.

With someone who can swim.

Right.

You cannot be serious!

Hey, John McEnroe, where's the game?

All the prints are accounted for

by people who had a reason to be in the Newman house

all the way down to the vortex cover, Warrick.

Prints came back to the pool boy.

Yeah. Yeah, so all I've got

is an errant blond hair, a tooth filling

and some detritus from the bottom of the pool.

All right, now, don't get your panties in a bunch.

Uh, so we got the blond hair, the tooth filling...

That's it, huh?

Yeah.

I mean, I did identify some Neoprene.

White Neoprene.

Yeah.

Like in a wet suit Neoprene?

Was the vic a diver?

Well, not that I know of.

The son can't even swim.

Let's think about that.

Who wears a white wet suit in a pool?

Scuba diver.

Or a professional.

I'm thinking professional.

No, I mean like a hired gun professional.

Yeah.

Tooth hurt?

You might, uh, need your filling

which we found at the bottom of the Newmans' pool.

We also found your fingerprints

and your hair.

Look, I'm sure you'll find me all over the house.

I wanted to buy it.

I was everywhere.

Well, you made sure you were everywhere, too, didn't you?

I wanted to thoroughly inspect the property.

Caveat emptor, right?

Or caveat venditor.

Let the seller beware.

Your prints came back military.

Navy Seal.

Ex-Navy Seal.

Oh, yeah, that's right.

You rang the bell.

You had the physical tools for the training

but not the character.

And if you had anything more than a filling

and a piece of Neoprene,

we wouldn't be here.

Berglund.

That's a Scandinavian name, isn't it?

That's what my parents tell me.

Hey, heard you nailed

soccer boy for the murder.

Not exactly.

No match

on the bite plate.

Well, maybe there was someone else with them.

Someone getting sicker by the minute.

Greg.

Yeah?

I need you to take off your shoes and socks.

See, now we're getting into this whole strip forensics thing

and I'm not so sure I can hang with that

even if you are my boss.

Your mother's maiden name is Hojem, correct?

Hojem is Norwegian?

Yeah.

And you know, my grandfather got tossed from Norway

for getting my grandmother pregnant

before they got married.

To this day, he still tells me

"Som man reder sa ligger man."

One must lie in the bed one has made.

That's true.

Right foot first, please.

Now, you're sure you want me to do this?

Things could get loud in here.

Left foot.

So you want to tell me

why we're doing this?

It's an experiment.

Put these on.

Come see me in six hours.

Nicole Exmoor, 18.

School nurse said she couldn't stop throwing up.

Teacher found her passed out in the locker room.

She have an explanation?

Said that she ate something

that didn't agree with her.

Nicole, do you know what E. Coli is?

Your friend Mandy was infected with it.

We think we know how you got it.

We can test your blood for POP...

(sniffling) Chuck brought the weed, not me.

This guy told him it was a really great high.

These photographs are...

of Mandy's ribs.

We believe these are your teeth marks.

(retching)

Ms. Sidle can make

an impression of your teeth

or you can help yourself

and explain what happened.

When Jack and I went to the field...

we were hooking up

behind Mandy's back.

She showed up.

She was like, "He's my player."

What the hell are you doing?!

Mandy!

I don't know what happened.

I started to feel weird,

like my blood was surging through me.

It didn't make any sense.

I think I wanted to be her.

It felt...

It felt like somebody else walked over and did it.

Like she was split from my body.

It's called psychological detachment.

It's a function of POP.

(coughing)

It's like out of a really bad dream.

Nicole, I was at Mandy's autopsy.

It was not a dream.

I'm placing you under arrest

for the murder of Amanda Kirk.

(sobbing)

What's going to happen to me?

That's up to the DA.

Let's go.

Hey, Cyrus, next time somebody says

experimenting with drugs is harmless,

remind me of this.

What did you do to me?

You had a reaction.

I'm Hazmat meat.

Quarantine, here I come.

Your right foot, I swabbed

with a placebo, regular tap water.

Yeah, well, I'm not worried about the right foot.

Left foot... eumycotic dermatitis.

Oh, great.

It's probably fatal.

It's a mildew-induced skin rash.

You infected me with mildew?

Here. Hydrocortisone.

Follow the directions, clear it right up.

It's called Aureobasidium pullulans.

Is that supposed to mean something to me?

It may.

This is a warrant.

To see my feet?

Yes, both of them.

Take off your shoes and socks, please.

Aureobasidium pullulans is a mildew.

We found it around the Newmans' pool.

It induces rashes in people

of Scandinavian descent...

and it does so in a predictable progression,

which provides us

with a valuable timeline.

You have the rash.

And size 12 feet.

Let me tell you how you did this.

(gasping)

(gasps for air)

And then you went upstairs.

Cal?

(gunshot)

You're still going to have to convince a jury

that I killed two strangers

for no reason.

You ever been to the theater, Peter?

There's a play called Six Degrees of Separation.

It's about how all the people in the world

are connected to each other by no more than six people.

All it takes to connect you to the victims

is one degree.

Peter Berglund?

No, I don't recall ever having met

somebody by that name.

Well, do you recall living in San Diego?

What does that have to do with anything?

Oh, it just might help jog your memory.

San Diego's a military town.

Your sister married a guy in the Navy, right?

Did you really bring me in here just for this?

Well, we could go someplace else

if you'd like.

How about your house?

The one you're selling?

What's this?

Well, you see, we didn't have

enough evidence at this point

to get a warrant,

but you put your house on the Internet.

I didn't need a warrant.

Gave me complete access

via this virtual tour.

And all with your permission.

That's you... that's Peter Berglund...

and that's the Pacific.

So what?

I know Peter.

Yeah. You hired him

to kill your ex-husband

and his new wife.

The picture doesn't prove anything.

No, but it did give me access

to Peter's financial information.

Loan application. Two signatures...

Peter Berglund and yours.

You cosigned for Peter

because he couldn't qualify on his own.

Payment for the hit.

He gets your house,

you get your ex-husband's money.

The thing about murder for hire...

there's always a paper trail.

Good night.

Good night, Sara.

Hey.

Nice work on the high school case.

I'm, uh...

...sorry I missed your page.

It's just, um...

you tell me to get a life

and then I get one, and...

then you expect me to be there at a moment's notice.

It's, um, confusing.