All language subtitles for Bones (2005) - S01E01 - Pilot (1080p x265 EDGE2020).eng

ANNOUNCER ( over P.A. ):
This is the final

boarding call for Flight 416

with service
to Dallas-Ft. Worth.
I'm late.

Final boarding call
for Flight 416

with service
to Dallas-Ft. Worth.

This board is broken.

ANNOUNCER:
At this time...

The arrivals board
is not working.

Uh, did anybody meet
the flight from Guatemala?

Aviateca Airlines?
What gate?

( whispers ):
Yeah...

I'm late.

Excuse me, uh...

you have a computer glitch
at the arrivals board.

Hello?

Sir, excuse
me, yoo-hoo.

Great.

Yeah.

Hi. The flight from Guatemala.

Tell me you tried
"excuse me" first.

( gasping ):
Sweetie!

Yes, I did;
welcome home.

Oh! Are you exhausted?

Was Guatemala awful?

Was it horribly backward?

And yet,
I was never reduced

to flashing my boobs
for information.

( gasping ):
Flash them for
any fun reasons?

I was literally neck-deep
in a mass grave.

Not romantic.

You know, diving
head-first in a
pit of cadavers

is no way to handle
a messy break-up.

Angela, nothing Pete and I
ever did was messy.

Then you were not
doing the right thing.

Sir, why are you
following us?

( grunting and groaning )

Attack! Security! Hello!

Who runs
this airport?

Kick his ass.

MAN:
Ow!

Step back now!
He attacked me.

I'm Homeland Security!

Oh... little
misunderstanding here.

You can put away your guns.

What, is she in charge now?

No, I'll tell you
when you can lower your weapons.

Hand over the bag.

Is that what this is about?

Boo.

I am Dr. Temperance Brennan.

I've been in Guatemala
for two months,

identifying victims of genocide,
including him.

Most people in
this situation,

what they do is
they sweat it.

Guatemala? Genocide?

How are you scary
after that?

You know
who doesn't sweat it?

Sociopaths.

I'm not a sociopath.

I'm an anthropologist
at the Jeffersonian.

AGENT:
Who works
for the FBI.

Which I'd maybe believe
if you had ID

that did more
than allowed you access

to the cafeteria.

You are illegally transporting
human remains, ma'am.

And you assaulted
a Homeland Security agent.

Look, I'm sorry if I embarrassed
you in front of your friends,

but next time,
you should identify yourself

before attacking me.

What are you doing here?
FBI.

Special Agent Seeley Booth,

Major Crime Investigation, DC.

Bones identifies bodies for us.

Don't call me Bones.

And I do more than identify.

She also
writes books.

( indistinct transmission
over communicator )

Fine. She's all yours.

Great. Let's grab your skull,
and let's vamoose.

What, that's it?
"She's all yours"?

Why did you stop me?

What does it matter?
You're free to go. Let's just

grab your bags-- click,
click, cling, cling.
You set me up.

You got
a hold-for-questioning request

from the FBI, didn't you?

I love this book.

Come on.

BRENNAN:
That's the best you can do?

What?
Getting
Homeland Security

to snatch me so you can
stage a fake rescue?

Well, at least I picked you
up at the airport, huh?

Come on, I mean, I went through
the appropriate channels,

but your assistant there,
he stone-walled me.

Yeah, well, after the last case,
I told Zack

never, ever to put you through.
He's a good assistant.

You can let me out
anywhere along here.

All right, listen,
a decomposed corpse
was found this morning

at Arlington
National Cemetery.

Arlington National Cemetery
is full of decomposed corpses.

It's a cemetery.
Yeah, but this one

is your type of corpse--
it wasn't in a casket.

If you drive one more block

I'm screaming "kidnap"
out the window.

You know what? I'm trying
to mend bridges here.

Pull over.

( tires squealing )

I'm going home.

Great.
Could we...

Look, could we
just skip this part?

I find you very
condescending.

Me? I'm condescending?

I'm not the one
who's got to mention

that she's got a doctorate
every five minutes.

I am the one with
a doctorate.

Yeah, well you know what?
I'm the one

with the badge
and the gun, huh?

You know, you're not the only
forensic anthropologist in town.

Yes, I am. The next
nearest is in Montreal.

Parlez-vous français?

What's it going
to take, huh?

Full participation in the case.

Fine.
Not just lab work; everything.

What? You want me to spit in my
hand? We're Scully and Mulder.

I don't know what that means.

It's an olive branch.

Just get back in the car.

What's the context
of the find?

Routine landscaping--
they drop the level of the pond,

one of the workmen
thought he saw something.

( siren blaring )

BRENNAN:
Hi, Zack.

This eco-warrior
look works for you.

Thanks.
Very action-oriented.

Agent Booth, you remember
my assistant, Zack Addy?

Oh, yeah.
How was Guatemala?

Dig up lots
of massacre victims?

Learn a thing or two
about machete strikes?

Zack, I need water samples

and temperature readings
from the pond.

Right away,
Dr. Brennan.

He's got no sense
of discretion, that kid.

Typical squint.

I don't know
what that means.

Well, cops get stuck, we
bring in people like you.

You know-- squints; you
know, who squint at things.

Oh, you mean people
with very high IQs

and basic reasoning skills?

Yeah.

( grunts )

What, exactly, am I supposed

to be squinting at?

It's like pornography.

You'll know it
when you see it.

Yeah, okay.

This is a crime scene.

The remains are wrapped

in four-mil flat poly
construction sheeting.

PVC-coated chicken wire.
Weighted.

That's why the body didn't
surface during decomposition.

The skeleton is complete,
but the skull is in fragments.

What can you tell me?
Not much.

She's a young woman,
probably between 18 and 22,

approximately
five foot three,

race unknown, delicate features.

That's all?

Tennis player.
How do you get a pretty

tennis player out of that yuck?

Epiphysis fusion gives age.

Pelvic bone shape
gives sex.

Bursitis in the shoulder.

Somebody this young, it
must be an athletic injury.

When did she die?
Eh...

"Eh"?! What does that even mean?

Means wait until our bug
and slime guy takes a look.

No clothing.

You know, in my line of work,

no clothes
usually means a sex crime.

In my line of work,
it can also mean

the victim
favored natural fibers.

Your suit, for example,

will outlast your bones
by decades.

Collect silt,

three meters radius
to a depth of ten centimeters.

Your FBI forensics team
can take the plastic

and the chicken wire;
we'll take the rest.

BRENNAN:
I wish you wouldn't

just give me to the FBI.

As a federally funded
institution,

the Jeffersonian
must seize every opportunity

to prove our worth
to our friends in Congress,

which means I loan you out
as I see fit,

especially
to federal agencies.

"Loan out" implies
property, Dr. Goodman.

The FBI will never
respect mere property.

I do not view you
as property, Dr. Brennan.

You are one of
the Jeffersonian's
most valuable assets.

An asset is,
by definition, property.

What's the rule,
Mr. Addy?

You only converse with PhDs.

You realize I'm halfway through
two doctorates?

Two halves make a whole,

so mathematically speaking...

Go polish a bone,
Mr. Addy.

Dr. Goodman, FBI agents
will never respect any of us

as long as you simply dole out
scientists like office temps.

Dr. Brennan, are you playing me?

You know I'm no good at that.

Mmm. Thus far.

But you have a disturbingly
steep learning curve.

MAN:
and teeming with microbes,

which accelerated decomposition,

but it houses black carp
and koi,

which fed on the body.

Can I, as the only normal person

in this room,
say, "Ew"?

I got three larval stages
of Tricoptera, Chironimidae...

As we cut to the chase...

The body was in the pond
one winter and two summers.

Spring before last?
Do you really
think I'm lusty?

ANGELA:
The book.

No, no, no, you're
not in the book.

Sure he is; we all are.

No, none of you
are in the book.

Those are fictitious
characters based on...

I found some small bone
fragments in the silt.
We're out

of the book now.
We're back in real life.

I'd guess Rana temporaria.
Frog bones?

Also, some tiny gold links,
as from a fine chain.

ADDY:
Point of clarification--

I'm not a virgin.

Nowhere near, in fact.

( sighs )
Who you captured
perfectly is Booth.

Buttoned down, but buckets
of sexual confidence

which, oh, I, for one,
would love to tap.

It's not right
to discuss

tapping asses
in front of the soaker.

I can't bounce back and forth
between my book and real life.

Since we're stuck
with real life,

let's just forget the book.

I haven't analyzed whatever it
was the victim was holding

in her hand, but it
looks like cellulose.

Paper?
Hmm. Possibly.

I found microscopic grit
embedded in the skull fragments.

I need you

to identify those, too.

Remove the remaining tissue.

I'll debride the skull
fragments myself,

reassemble it so
Angela can put a
face on our victim.

Good. I prefer holographs.

They don't stink.

Zack, I don't like those
terms for human remains--

"soaker," "crispy critter..."

I know, Dr. Brennan.

( slow acoustic pop song plays )

* The dawn is breaking

* A light shining through

* You're barely waking

* And I'm tangled up in you

* Yeah...

* Da, da-da-da-da,
da, da-da-da-da *

* Da, da-da-da-da, da,
da-da-da-da *

* But I'm hoping you're close

* Well, I follow your car

* I worry
I won't see your face *

* Light up again

* Even the best fall down
sometimes *

* Even the wrong words
seem to rhyme *

* Out of the doubt
that fills my mind *

* I somehow find
you and I collide *

* Da, da-da-da-da,
da, da-da-da-da *

* Da, da-da-da-da, da,
da-da-da-da *

* Collide

* Da, da-da-da-da,
da, da-da-da-da *

* Da, da-da-da-da, da,
da-da-da-da *

* Da, da-da-da-da,
da, da-da-da-da... *

MAN:
squint a field rolea

in an active murder
investigation?
Yes, sir.

The one that
wrote the book?
Yes, sir.

Thought you said she wouldn't
work with you anymore.

The last case we worked,
she provided a description

of the murder weapon
and the murderer,

but I didn't give her
much credence.

Why not?

Because she did it by looking

at the victim's autopsy X rays.

Well, I wouldn't give it
much credence, either.

Turns out
she was right on both.

Plus, the pond victim--
Brennan gives me

the victim's age,
sex and favorite sport.

( incredulous chuckle ):
Which is?

Tennis.
She's good.

No, she's amazing.
Only way I can get her back

on my side is to bring her
out in the field...

I'm willing.

Fine. She's on you.

Take a squint out

in the field, she's
your responsibility.

Yes, sir.

( door opening )

( groaning )

Peter?

It's not rational for you

to choose the first day

I'm back to reclaim
your television.

While you were away,

I thought a lot
about why we broke up.

We fought all the time and don't
like each other anymore.

We fought because you were
emotionally distant and cold.

But sexually speaking,
I think you'll agree...

You didn't come
for your TV.

You timed this
for a booty call.

Okay, you're leaving.
Come on.

Your intimacy issues
are probably due to
being orphaned so young.

( sighs ) I hate psychology.
And you're just horny.

Brennan, do you
really want

to spend the rest
of your life alone?

Okay, I don't know
about the rest of my life,

but I sure as hell
wish I was alone right now.

So, what?
We split the cost
of the TV?

( groans ):
Good-bye.

( phone rings )

What?

This is interesting, Angela.

Good morning.

Does Booth know how this works?

( machine powering up )
ANGELA:
This computer program,

which I designed--
patent pending--

accepts a full array
of digital input,

processes it
and then projects it

as a three-dimensional
holographic image.

Okay.
You get that?

Yeah, the patent pending part.

Brennan reassembled the skull
and applied tissue markers.

Her skull was badly damaged,

but racial indicators--
cheekbone dimensions,

nasal arch,
occipital measurements--

suggest African-American.

And... we have our victim.

Whoa.

( sighs )

I have to admit,
that's pretty cool.

Ange, rerun the program
substituting Caucasian values.

Does she look familiar
to anyone?

No.

Split the difference.
Mixed race.

Lenny Kravitz
or Vanessa Williams?

I don't know
what that means.

Angela, reduce
tissue depth

over the cheekbones
to the jawline.

BRENNAN:
Does anyone
recognize her?

ADDY:
Not me.

ANGELA:
Wait.

Is that who I think it is?

ADDY:
The girl who had the
affair with the Senator?

Her name's Cleo
Louise Eller...

only daughter to Ted
and Sharon Eller.

Last seen approximately
9:00 p.m., April 6, 2003

leaving the Cardio Deluxe Jam

on K Street.

She didn't even make it
to her car.

Pretty good memory.

Yeah, well, it's my job
to find her.

In that case, congratulations
on your success.

This isn't exactly the way
I wanted it to end.

BOOTH:
Cleo Eller is not just
some missing girl.

Yeah, she's a senate intern

who was boinking
Senator Allan Bethlehem.

I was secondary in
the investigation into

the disappearance
of that girl,

and we couldn't confirm that.

How did you recognize her before
she even had her own face?

I recognized the underlying
architecture of her features,

the rest is just
window dressing.

I'm not an expert, but
shouldn't he be happier?

Oh, no, believe me, I'm happy.

You seem happy to me.

I need this kept quiet.

Ah, cover-up.

Paranoid
conspiracy theory.

Is it paranoia
that Monica Lewinsky

was a KGB-trained

sex-agent mole?

So what do you do first,
confront the Senator?

Listen, Bones.
I know...
Don't call me Bones.

I know we talked about
you coming out in the
field and all...

Oh, you rat bastard!
But if it's this big,

the Director's going
to create a special
investigation unit.

And if I line all my
ducks up in a row, I
can maybe head it up.

I don't know what
that means, but I think
I can be a duck.

You're not a duck.
Okay? On this one,
we stick to the book.

Cops on the streets
squints in the lab.
Well, in that case,

the Jeffersonian will be issuing

a press release
identifying the
girl in the pond.

You do that,
I'm a dead duck.

What are you trying to do?

Blackmail you.

Blackmail a federal agent?

Yes.

I don't like it.

I'm fairly certain
you're not supposed to.

Fine, you're in.

You're certain it's Cleo Eller?

The profile's dead on:
age, race, height.

Plus, the
timeline fits.

I mean, Cleo Eller did
play tennis in college.

Talk to me about the Senator.

Cleo Eller, the victim,
worked for Senator Bethlehem.

It was reported
that they were
involved sexually.

BOOTH:
We couldn't confirm that.

Well, Bethlehem's a hound.
Everybody knows that.

Ken Thompson,
Cleo's boyfriend.

Thompson's still
Bethlehem's aide.

Thompson keeps
Bethlehem's calendar.

No way the Senator has an affair

that Thompson
doesn't know about.

No sexual
relationship,
no motive.

What about the nut case?

Oliver Laurier.

Do you like him for this?

He's a stalker.

What's your first move?

I'd like to inform the Ellers
that we found their daughter.

( scoffs ):
It's better
to keep this quiet.

It's been, what, two years?

What's another few days?

All due respect, sir, I've come
to know the family pretty well,

especially the Major,

and two years is a hell
of a long time in limbo.

I'll have details
of cause of death

by this afternoon.

BOOTH:
That's where
we'll get started.

( whispers ):
All right.

Hodgins identified
the particulates

embedded in Cleo Eller's skull
as rolled steel--

most likely from
a sledge-type hammer.

Also, there's cement

and diatomaceous earth.

What's that?
Looks like that.

It's made up of
prehistoric sea creatures.

It's used
as an insecticide,

filtering agent,
cleaning abrasive,
ceramics.

It's very common.

Diatomaceous earth--
common or not, it's a clue.

MAJOR ELLER:
You're positive it's our Cleo?

We established

22 matching points
of comparison...

Yes, we're certain.

MAJOR ELLER:
Did he do it?

The Senator?

One military man
to another?

Major Eller, we can't discuss
the investigation in any way.

Can you at least tell us
if our daughter suffered?

Given the state
of her skull...

Cleo never saw it coming.

Thank you.

Mrs. Eller, could you tell us
what Cleo wore around her neck?

Her father's Bronze Star.

Ted won it
in the first Gulf War,

and he gave it
to her for luck.

( sobbing )

BRENNAN:
Those people deserve
the truth.

Their daughter
was murdered.

They deserve the
kindness of a lie.

There will be
an inquest report.

Which they won't read
because they don't want to.

Especially because
toward the end,

Cleo and her parents
weren't even speaking.

They told you that?
You know,
getting information

out of live people is
a lot different than

getting information out
of a pile of bones.

You have to offer up
something of yourself first.

What exactly did you
do in the military?

See? See what you did
right there, Bones?

You asked a personal question

without offering anything
personal in return.

And since I'm not a skeleton,
you get zilch.

Sorry.

BRENNAN:
There are stab marks here.

And odd markings

on the distal phalanges.

Nothing I've seen before.

HODGINS:
In a nutshell?

Anxious, depressed
and nauseous.

Take a sick day.

Not me.
Cleo Eller.

Pupal casings show
she was on Lorazepam,

Chlordiazepoxide and
Meclizine Hydrochloride.

Nausea. Show me
those bone fragments.

BRENNAN:
These aren't frog bones.

Cleo Eller was pregnant.

ADDY:
Fetal remains?

BRENNAN:
Malleus, incus, stapes.

These are
fetal ear bones.

The girl
was pregnant.

Not very far along.

You want me to try
and get a DNA reading,

see if we can prove
paternity?

You can try.
Let's hope there's

enough genetic
material to test.

This Senator,
oh, he is smart.

He gets an
intern pregnant,

then murders her
when it threatens
his career.

And he has the connections
to get away with it.

I hate it when you make
paranoia plausible.

It's like sliding
off a cliff.

This special unit,
no way your FBI pal

heads it up, unless
the dark powers in charge

are convinced he knows

where his political bread
is buttered.

Either way, that's where
this investigation ends.

( slow music plays )

( holograph beeping )

* Stay for life

* For life...

Want to get a drink?

Non-topical application?

Glug-glug, whoo-hoo!

Come on, sweetie.

What if Booth's right?

What if I'm only
good with bones

and lousy with people?

People like you.

I don't care if men like me.

Okay, interesting leap
from "people" to "men,"

but I'm sure
it means nothing.

I hate psychology.

My most meaningful
relationships

are with dead people.

Who said that?

It's true.

I understand Cleo,

and her bones
are all I've ever seen.

When she was seven,

she broke her wrist,
probably falling off a bike,

and two weeks later, before
the cast was even removed,

she got right back
on that bike and broke it

all over again.

And when she was being murdered,

she fought back--
hard-- even though...

...she was so depressed
she could hardly

get up in the morning.

She didn't welcome death.

Cleo wanted to live.

Honey...

you ever think that maybe
you come off a little distant

because you connect too much?

I hate psychology.

It's a soft science.

I know, but...

people are mostly soft.

Except
for their bones.

Yeah.

You want some advice?

Glug-glug, whoo-hoo?

Offer up a little bit of
yourself every once in a while.

Just... tell somebody something

you're not
completely certain

you want them to know.

That's the second time
I've received that advice.

Well, you know I
give great advice.

BRENNAN:
I'm going to have to

push this to the next level.

THOMPSON:
as to why the Director

of the FBI would send you
to speak to the Senator

instead of coming himself.

Probably because I'm
the one that found

that Cleo Eller
was pregnant.

You could tell the girl was
pregnant from her skeleton?

We found fetal bones.

The only question, Senator,

is which one of you
is the father.

Are you willing to
submit to a DNA test?

You know what?
Given the sensitivity,

don't say anything
on the subject without

your attorney present,
that's my advice.

Advice I intend to take.

Ken, we have
a vote to get to.

Uh... what are you doing?

Saliva, say from
chewing gum,

is an excellent
source of DNA.

I intend to compare
it to the DNA in
the fetal bones.

You need
a warrant for that.

Ken. She needs a warrant.

( grunts )

We have any further
questions, we'll be in touch.

( groaning )

I could place you under arrest
on a federal charge right now

for uttering threats
against a United States senator.

What?

Bones.
CULLEN:
I own her,

but she was your responsibility.

Yes, sir.

Send in Special Agent Furst.

I warned you about taking
squints out to the field,

but you vouched for her,

said she
wouldn't
screw up.
Yes, sir.

No, no. Booth didn't know that
I was going to see the Senator.

I wanted to get a
sample of his DNA.

Exactly.

Not helping.

CULLEN:
Tomorrow morning
I'm announcing

the formation
of a special unit

to investigate
the murder of Cleo Eller,

at which time your
investigation

will be
officially terminated.

You will not head the new unit.

Congratulations, Patrick.

No hard feelings.
Right.

I need the complete
case files in the morning.

Of course.
They'll be ready.

Thank you, Agent Furst.

Well, at least
Dr. Brennan found out

that Senator Bethlehem
was having sex with Cleo.

I did?

The report said there wasn't
enough DNA in the fetal bones

to determine
paternity.

Senator Bethlehem didn't want

Dr. Brennan to
take that gum.

He's hiding something.

He didn't know
there wasn't enough DNA.

I suggest that you, uh, go back
to your lab, Dr. Brennan,

and get used to being there.

BOOTH:
Come on, Bones.

Okay?

Don't be nice to me
after I got you in trouble.

Your heart was
in the right place.

I'm not a heart person.
You're a heart person.

I'm a brain person.

You vouched for me.

Forget it.
No, I won't.

You think it
was the Senator?

Look, the Senator's
had sex with a dozen
of these interns

and he hasn't killed
any of them.

Our best bet is
still the stalker.

You want to check him out?

We can, um, what do you
call it, roost him?

Roust.

Roust.

Well, the murderer

snatched the Bronze Star
from Cleo's neck, so...

I got 12 hours before
this case is over

and I'm off it, so let's
go roust him. Come on.

( knocking )

Mr. Laurier, we have a warrant
to search your apartm...

Don't run, Oliver.
Uh...
Aah!

( thud )

BRENNAN:
Agent Booth is under
the impression that you

might have something
pertinent to a case

he's working on.

You're looking
for a Bronze Star?

Like the one Cleo wore?

Exactly like
that one, Mr. Laurier.

I don't have it.

Sometimes stalkers
retain keepsakes.

What the hell
are these things, huh?

Miniature Lives
of the Saints.

Okay? I hand
them out...

Heads up, Bones.

I hand them out
for donations.

I'm not a panhandler.

Help yourself.

I never stalked Cleo.

Then why'd she get
a restraining order?

Okay, okay, no.

First of all, no.

Ken Thompson, her
supposed boyfriend,

got the restraining order,

with his boss,
the Senator,

but Ken is only
concerned with his job

and his tropical fish.

They colluded to ruin my
reputation with this

specious "stalker" label,
when, in actuality...

...I was Cleo's close friend.

Then why'd you run
from the warrant?

My fight-or-flight response is
heavily weighted towards flight.

If there's anything
I can do

to help you catch
Cleo's killer, just tell me.

Oh, a full confession--
that would be great.

I love Cleo.

Why would I hurt her?

If you don't mind,
I'm gonna keep

one of these little books.

Whatever
you need...

Dr. Brennan.

ANGELA:
This is a rough composite,

but you get the idea.

Skull trauma was
not the cause of death.

Cleo was stabbed first.

She was stabbed
five to eight times

with a military issue
K-Bar knife.

ANGELA:
I just completed
this rendering.

The defensive wounds
to the bones

of her hands suggest
that it wasn't

until the third or
the fourth penetration...

BRENNAN:
That's likely the fatal stab,

right there.

...that Cleo
stopped fighting back.

I believe that the distinctive
damage to her distal

phalanges-- the tips
of her finger bones--

was caused by the
murderer using the knife

to remove her
finger pads.

Cranial fragmentation suggests

a 20-pound hammer
striking four to five times

while the victim's head
rested on a cement floor

containing traces
of diatomaceous earth.

That's the best explanation
for the particulates

found in her skull.

This was not a crime of passion.

Cleo never saw
the first stab coming.

It didn't arise
out of an argument.

Why smash Cleo's face?

Why whittle away
her fingertips,

remove her clothing
and her jewelry?

Sink her body...

BRENNAN:
The murderer
put more effort

into hiding
the victim's identity

than he did
into the murder itself.

In case Cleo was identified,
the murderer planted evidence.

The little book Brennan
got from the stalker

matches the cellulose
found in Cleo's hand.

Military cemetery,
military knife, implicates

her own father,
more misdirection.

Sound like any
conniving son-of-a-bitch

senators you know?

BOOTH:
You expect me
to declare war

on a United States senator
based on your little

holographic crystal ball?

It's not magic.

It's a logical recreation
of events based on evidence.

It's no more valid than my gut.

A good hypothesis
withstands testing.

That's what makes it
a good hypothesis.

This is not a hypothesis--
you have a dead girl

and a United States senator.

This is exactly why

squints belong in the lab.

You guys don't know
anything about the real world.

BRENNAN:
Come on.
We're done here.

Wow.

Touchy.

You must know
about her family.

Both parents vanish

when she's 15.

Probably counts
as the real world.

Yeah, I know the story.

I read the file.

The cops never
found out anything.

Yeah.

Brennan figures
that maybe

if somebody like her
had been there...

Well, for somebody
who hates psychology,

she sure has a lot of it.

BOOTH:
Thought I'd
find you here.

You know, you being a good
shot and doing martial arts,

it's all your
way of dealing.

I mean, who knows
better than you

how fragile life can be?

Maybe an Army Ranger
sniper who became

an FBI homicide
investigator.

Oh, you looked me up, huh?

Do you mind?

BRENNAN:
Be my guest.

Thank you.

( groans )

( laughs )

Were you any good
at being a sniper?

A sniper gets to know
a little something

about killers.

Senator Bethlehem,
he's no killer.

Oh, and Oliver
Laurier is?

Way I read Laurier,
he's unhinged.

That makes him
dangerous.

That'd be your "gut"
telling you that, correct?

You know, homicides?

They're not solved by
scientists.

They're solved
by guys like me

asking a thousand questions

a thousand times, catching
people telling lies every time.

You're great at what
you do, Bones, but

you don't solve murders...

Cops do.

Cleo Eller was killed
on a cement floor

sprinkled
with diatomaceous earth.

Traces of her blood
will still be in that cement.

One of us is wrong,
maybe both of us,

but if Bethlehem
wasn't a senator,

you'd be right there
in his basement

looking for that
killing floor.

You're afraid of him.

Your hypothesis
is that squints

don't solve murders
and cops do.

Prove it.

Be a cop.

*

( sighs )

Booth?

They look pretty happy,
don't they?

Otherwise they wouldn't turn
on the camera, I guess.

Zack said you wanted to see me.

Something you don't like
to talk about: families.

Temperance...

partners, they
share things.

Builds trust.

Since when are we partners?

I apologize for the assumption.

You got a warrant to search
Bethlehem's place?

You were right:

If Bethlehem wasn't a senator,

I'd be in that basement,
looking for that killing floor.

But you're wrong.

I was never afraid of that guy.

And I'm not doing this

because you're
a genius.

I'm doing this for Cleo.

( reporters shouting )

Sir, it's John Ferris.
Channel 11. Sir!

( chattering )

( reporters shouting )

Here, sir!

The warrant says they're
searching for blood traces,

a sledgehammer
and diatomaceous earth.

What the hell is that?

You're making a big mistake.

( clamoring voices )

I'm in charge...

You come in and mess up my
investigation.

Care to make
a statement, Senator?

Senator Bethlehem,

can you just answer
a couple questions?

Yeah, go ahead.

Who gave you this warrant?
When was it delivered?

What are you doing here?

Look at him. For all his
politics, he's got nothing.

He should've
loved Cleo
properly,

like I would've.

Will you sign my book?

Stalk me, Oliver, and
I will kick your ass.

( reporters clamoring )

I don't recognize that.

That is not mine.

That is not mine!

( indistinct voices )

At least we got the hammer.

Yeah, but that's
all we got.

Cement floor in the basement?

Yeah, but no blood,
no diatomaceous earth.

We needed a trifecta, Bones--

physical evidence,
murder weapon, crime scene.

ADDY:
They wouldn't even arrest him?

HODGINS:
Don't worry.

If that's the hammer
used on Cleo Eller,

he'll get arrested.

A toast...

to getting the
murderous bastard.

Yeah.

The hammer's not enough.

He's going to get away with it.

Maybe Booth is right.

Maybe outside the lab,
I'm useless.

Let us take guidance from
The Lives of the Saints.

"Albertus Magnus,
Patron Saint of Scientists."

I thought Magnus

was the patron saint

of fishmongers.

Two separate entities.

Albertus Magnus was
a 13th-century

philosopher.
The fishmonger
saint was...

Fish!

You said that diatomaceous earth

could be used
as a filtering agent.

Yeah, for swimming pools,
water filters...

Or tropical fish?

Oliver Laurier said that
Ken Thompson kept fish. Uh...

( glass jingles )

What's your hurry?

Thompson read the warrant!
He knows we're

looking for diatomaceous earth!
Get in touch with Booth.

Tell him where I'm going, okay?

She didn't actually say
where she was going, did she?

( tires screech )

( tapping window )
Stop!

You can't destroy evidence.

THOMPSON:
This is a private residence.

I don't suppose
you have a warrant?

I'm working with the FBI.

If I have reasonable suspicion
of a crime being committed,

I don't need a warrant.

What crime?

Destruction of evidence

pertinent to
a federal investigation.

I'm just cleaning up.

Is that alcohol
I smell on your breath?

This linoleum looks fairly new.

What's underneath?
Cement?

The same cement that was
embedded in Cleo's skull

when you bashed
her head in.

You might want
to get out of here.

I can't let you
destroy evidence.

How are you going to stop me?

I'll stop you.

Not before I burn
this place down

with you in it.

( yells )

( yelling )

( groans )
I don't get it.

It wasn't jealousy,
it wasn't passion.

Cleo wouldn't get rid
of your boss's baby,

and so you
got rid of her.
Ah!

What kind of psychology is that?

What kind of person are you?

LAURIER:
Temperance.

Are you all right?

Oliver, I understand you're here
out of a misguided

concern for my safety,

but I apparently
don't read people very well,

and you could be in some kind
of psychotic collusion with Ken,

so I'm going to ask you
to go over there

and apply pressure
to his wound until the police

get here,
you understand?
Okay, okay.

Did he kill Cleo?

Yeah. He killed Cleo.

OLIVER:
Okay... then

I'm down with him
bleeding to death.

That guy bleeds

to death, Bones
will go on trial
for attempted murder.

You don't want that, now,
do you?

I wouldn't want that.

No. Besides, you know, uh,
applying pressure,

that can be very painful.

( Thompson groaning )

The evidence
said he did it, but...

I don't know why.

No, it doesn't matter.

You know what?
Motive does not matter.

He did it to save his job.

His job?

Yeah, senator in scandal,

he'll lose the beltway
fast track.

It's that simple, it's...

It's a tough town.

( sighs )
Yeah, it is a tough town.

Yeah, you know,
in the future, uh,

maybe I should
do the shooting.

Why?

I'm a good shot.

REVEREND:
"Lord, make me
an instrument

"of Your peace.

"Where there is hatred,

"let me sow love.
( mourners sobbing, sniffling )

Where there is
injury, pardon."

*

*

Is the FBI gonna lay
charges against Brennan?

She only shot
him in the
leg... once.

She didn't give
him a warning.

She just shot him,
with alcohol on her breath.

It was her
first shooting.

You can't expect
her to be perfect

right out of
the gate.

How much warning
did you give people

before you
sniped them?

* ...that I know
what I'm all about... *

REVEREND:
"Where there's doubt, faith.

"Where there's despair, hope.

Where there's darkness, light."

( sighs )

What?

I told you it
wasn't the Senator.

And I told you who
it was, so we're even.

Except we work on the same
cases, and you end up

on the New York Times
bestsellers list.

I didn't know that.

Mm-hmm. Number three,
with a bullet.

That's good, right?

The New York Times,
with a bullet?

Means you're rich;
call your accountant.

( laughing ):
I don't have
an accountant

Well, get one.

Okay. How does that work?
Wow!

You need to get
out of the lab, you know?

Watch TV, turn on
a radio, anything.

Pick up the phone,
and...

REVEREND:
"Where there is sadness, joy.

"Oh, Divine Master, grant
that I may seek not so much

"to be consoled,
as to console;

"to be understood,
as to understand;

"to be loved,
as to love.

For it is in giving..."

You know, if it
weren't for you...

those people
would never have known

what happened to their daughter.

That's got to be worse
than the truth.

I know exactly
how the Ellers felt about Cleo.

My parents disappeared
when I was 15,

and nobody knows
what happened to them.

Being a sniper, I...

took a lot of lives.

What I'd like to do
before I'm done

is try and catch at least
that many murderers.

( chuckles )

Please, you don't think
there's some kind of...

cosmic balance sheet.

I'd like to help you with that.

Eh...

( laughs )

What's that mean?