All language subtitles for CSI.S05E19.4x4.720p.WEB-DL.DD5.1.H.264-DNR

This is the best taco I ever had.

I'm happy for you both.

What? Did you piss off Ecklie again?

This is a hit-and-run.
I was expecting Greg Sanders.

We're slammed.

Everybody's on a case.

- Is this a Fiero?
- Yeah, the old Fiero.

Kind of makes you nostalgic
for a "Members Only" jacket.

Anyway, the Hummer was going
the wrong way on a one-way street.

The guy in the Fiero, lucky to be alive.

Nobody saw the driver get out.

People who drive $100,000 vehicles
don't usually run away from them.

Well, you obviously haven't met
any paroled rappers.

Tread mark shapes indicate acceleration.

Pedal to the metal.

- Maybe a getaway.
- Or maybe a joyride.

There's a red smear on the door.

Somebody's got blood on their hands.

Well, at least we know one thing
about the driver.

He's had a face lift.

Crime Lab, how can I help you?

Sara, I just want you to know that
when we were in the shower,

- I didn't see anything.
- Really?

Gosh, I saw everything.

Mr. Grissom, PD just called.

Apparently, the Humvee from
your hit-and-run was carjacked earlier tonight.

Yeah, it was our Hummer...
for all of 20 minutes.

We... We won it in a raffle.

So, what happened?

All of a sudden, this fat guy comes out
of nowhere and...

Fat guy?!

No, that's you.

What's me?

Fat guy...

Well, um, how do you see it, Mrs. Shaw?

The kid who took the car was skinny.

Well, maybe he wasn't as big as me,
but he was definitely fat.

I'm going to sock you one.
He was not.

He pulled me out of the car!

He was as skinny as a stickman!

According to the witness statement,

the carjacker was hanging over there
by the fence.

What are we, about three blocks
from the crash site?

Yeah.

Nice freakin' neighborhood.

Come on, man!

I didn't do nothing! Let me go!

Try to steal from me, you miserable lowlife!

This time, I get justice!

You're going to jail!

You are going to jail!

Man, you just a damn racist.

Hold up.

This guy matches the description of
a suspect in a carjack hit-and-run.

Naw, dawgs, yo, I jacked a 40,
not no car, a'ight?

Yeah, a'ight...

One Cent, let's go.

So the kid denies jacking the Hummer.

Says he's never even been in one.

We matched his blood on the gearshift

and on the headband I found in the alley.

And he's skinny, which matches one
of the descriptions.

I'm charging him.

The oily stain you collected from the Hummer's airbag
was, ironically enough, oil.

More specifically, lard.

It looks like there's tissue fibers mixed into it.

Several different types, actually,

so I ran an ELISA to differentiate.

Pork, beef, chicken and possibly human flesh.

A real taste treat.

It's all been cooked up, so I doubt
we'll get any DNA.

What are you thinking about?

Tacos.

- Hola.
- Hola.

Chicken, beef or pork, boss?

- Los carnitas, por favor.
- Carnitas.

Say... have you had any trouble around
here recently?

Just a little scuffle yesterday.

Nothing I couldn't handle.

Yo, Pops, give me the loot!

Why didn't you file a police report?

Bother you guys with something like that?

I was a kid once.

Those guys just needed someone
to set 'em straight.

Here you go.

- Gracias.
- De nada.

- It's on the house.
- Muchas gracias.

Jim, we need to go back to the hospitals.

We're looking for a burn patient.

Lawrence Lafontaine, you're under arrest.

Vern rat me out?

No, the taco did.

Everyone around my hood knows that taco guy.

To get whooped by his old ass
and not do anything about it?

For real, stop, yo!

Man, dawgs, it hurts for real, man.

Here, now, you straight?

Stop being such a little baby.

I need some medicine...

I ain't talking about going to no hospital, either.

Well, have fun then, man.

I'm a get me some payback.

Vern just bitched out, wanted to forget it
ever happened.

Not me.

So you stole the Hummer for revenge.

I knew we should've asked for directions.

Out of the car, man!
Get the hell out of the car!

...just needed someone to set them straight.

Let me get this straight, Larry.

An old man refuses to let you steal his money,

so you jack a Hummer and
try to run over his taco stand?

Maybe.

I think this is the dumbest thing
we've never heard.

It's a beach house,a ski lodge,
a state-of-the-art office, your home on the road...

Ladies and gentlemen, Daluca Motorcoaches
is proud to present the G-4700!

Gentlemen.

- What's going on here?
- Lisa Schumacher, 29.

There's no surveillance on the floor,

and none of the rent-a-cops remember
the last time they saw her.

A convention girl.

A what?

You know, a model, stripper or a showgirl
working the convention for extra cash.

You got a T.O.D. yet?

Well, based on lividity,
I'd say around 4:00 a. m.

Laceration on the lower lip.

Contusions on the neck.

Petechiae in the eyes.

So she got slapped around, strangled.

Maybe somewhere in between, she was raped.

These streaks right here.

They don't look like blood.

Possible hair fragments and
some skin under her nails.

She fought back.

It'd be good for us.

So that's why they call it
a "recreational vehicle. "

C.O.D. is asphyxia due to manual strangulation.

Whoever did this used a lot more force
than they needed to.

There's bleeding in the neck muscles.

Fractures in the cornu of
the thyroid cartilage and hyoid bone.

- Did you do a wet mount?
- Sure did.

Found motile sperm in the vaginal cavity.

Well, Warrick found several used condoms
at the scene.

Killer must have run out,
and started riding bareback.

I'm not sure he rode anything at all.

There's an absence of trauma in the vaginal cavity.

Enough to rule out rape?

The semen was found at a depth
not indicative of penile penetration.

In this case, only a couple inches in.

Maybe that's all the killer had to work with.

And now, the moment that
we've all been waiting for.

The winner of the brand-new Humvee is...

- Kyle Shaw!
- My God!

Honey, we won.

I got over 70 women working
this convention, man.

Booth bimbos, crowd gatherers, hostesses,
narrators, demonstrators, translators.

Whatever you need, I got it.

Well, we're only interested in Lisa Schumacher.

She's one of my girls.

I represent her.

They call her "Cris," as in Cristal,
the champagne.

She can't get enough of it.

She likes to party?

She likes to make money.

Girls who party make the money.

This ain't L.A., where you get up
at 10:00 a. m. for an audition.

At 10:00 a. m., my girls are still at
Drai's partying with the client.

What's this about?

She was found dead this morning.

No.

Come on, she's over there working
the Daluca account.

You didn't hear?

There's two million square feet
of exhibits here, man.

40,000 people.
This place is a mini-city.

That RV exhibit's across town.

I was told that the doors close at 10:00.

Any idea why she was here after hours?

Look, she worked behind a booth,
yapping her mouth.

Can't really throw her in a bikini no more.

She's getting up there.

Three-oh, uh-oh.

I didn't really keep tabs.

- Donny.
- You're late.

And you're not dressed.
What's the deal, girl?!

Please, Donny, I just had the worst morning.

You think you had it bad?

- Well, Cris is dead.
- My God.

It's a tough business.

Hodges...

What do you want?

What are you doing?

I'm looking for leaks.

- Call Facilities.
- You got my results?

If you knew the kind of stuff
that grows in these pipes,

you'd be on your hands and knees with me.

The results, Hodges, from the swabs I gave you?

From Lisa Schumacher's fingertips?

Fine.

I found several substances.

Nonoxynol-9 spermicide.

Spermicide.
So she did handle a condom.

Also found traces of PVP, sorbitol,
carbomer, hydroxypropylcellulose...

Probably a hair gel.

Well, she did have skin under her fingernails,

so she could've scratched her attacker's scalp.

Not my job.

And last, the brownish-orange substance
on the vic's fingers,

chest and shoulders: instant tanning lotion.

Got four work card hits from the motor coach.

Dana Simmons,
Candice Mosti,

Lane Kelly, and your vic, Lisa Schumacher.

29 and already over the hill.

Please tell me you're kidding.

This town has different standards.

Let me see something.

Looks like Lisa had a roommate.

So my prints are on the RV.

Okay, I work that display sometimes.

It's not just the print that makes
you look bad, it's you.

You're raffling off a Hummer hours
after your roommate turns up dead.

What am I supposed to do?

I'm broke and my car insurance is due.

What is that on your arm?
Is that tanner?

Forgot to rub it in, I guess.

Razor-tight girl like you forgetting
to rub tanning lotion in?

Doesn't sound right to me.

You know, the funny thing is,

is your girlfriend Lisa had streaks
of tanner on her body, too.

Were you girls together last night?

Donny asked us to hang out with
Mr. Daluca after work.

- You and Lisa?
- Me, Lisa, Dana, and Lane.

You guys just "went out"?

Come on.

Look, I'm not a hooker.

All I do is these conventions.

So when a big baller like Mr. Daluca
comes into town

and offers us a little cash to hang out,

I'm with it.

"With it" where?

We had dinner at Fix.
Partied at Mix.

Gambled a little.

Then he took us back to the convention center.

Hammered and horny.

Who gets the first ride?

If I wanted someone your age, I'd do my wife.

I left there as soon as I could.
I took a cab home.

Did Daluca get rough with her?

Not that I saw.

He didn't even want to touch her.

Really? Because we found Lisa's DNA
on a condom.

When I left, Daluca was busy
with Dana and Lane,

and Lisa locked herself in the bathroom.

That was the last time I saw her.

You want my prints?
My DNA?

I mean, come on, guys.
I'm on vacation here.

Having a sample of your DNA
would help exclude you as a suspect.

Voluntary or court order, it's your choice.

My DNA is gonna be all over that girl,

but I didn't put it there, she did.

Now, this broad was expiring like spoiled milk,

and she was looking for a way out.

You still here?

You bitch.
You bitch!

She puts my baby inside her,
hey, quickie retirement plan.

You know, I can't think of a better reason
for a man to kill a woman.

If I'd have killed her, you think
I'd put her in my own motorcoach,

and then present it at an unveiling ceremony
that I was announcing?

You don't believe me, go ask
the convention authorities.

I told them what she was trying to do.

It's the last time I ever hire those skanks
to work a show.

Ye... Yes, yes, I'm very aware of Butterfield Academy's
privacy policy, but this a homicide...

Daluca's all over the condoms.

Get this, on one of them, his DNA and her epithelials
are on both sides.

Well, that's kind of like turning a sock inside out.

It does support his story, though.

Well, what about the epithelials under her nails?

It's not a match to Daluca.

So where does that leave us?

I'm not quite done yet.

Have a seat, Donny.

What kind of hair gel do you use?

Well, I don't think it would work
with the texture of your hair.

Real funny.

What are you doing?

Please stay still.

How did you get these scratches in your head?

Probably from scratching.

I'm always thinking.

I'll tell you what you were thinking.

You were thinking about how Lisa
pissed off your best client.

And how much business it was gonna cost you.

You kill her, Daluca takes the fall.

You can't lose.

Lisa was a nothing.

Old news.

Why would I risk everything for a zero like her?

For that exact reason, 'cause she was a "nothing" to you.

That's a good story.

You find that in one of your forensic journals?

No, but when I match your DNA,
I'll make sure you're on the cover.

Cuff him.

Paul, it's Gwen.

Come on, babe.
Let me in.

Work me out.

Vic is Paul Charles, 28.

Competition bodybuilder and personal trainer.

Doors were all locked, windows closed.

No sign of forced entry.

This guy's a poster child for self-love.

Maybe that's why they went for the face.

Gwen, did you see anyone else near
the house when you arrived?

Paul cut down on clients
so he could train for Mr. Las Vegas.

It's next month, and...
he really wanted to win this time.

He canceled my last two workouts.

So, why didn't you get another trainer?

If be canceled again, I was going to.

Did you and Paul ever get physical?

Just once.

Last month.

Come on, feel it.

Come on, you got to want it.

Come on.

I'll tell you what I want.

What's wrong?

He said he had a headache.

But I mean, he was training really, really hard,
so he was probably just tired.

Or gay.

I don't know.
I don't care.

I mean, just lying back on that bench
and sweating

and pushing the weight
with all of his muscle right there beside me...

I mean, it, it was totally... motivating.

No matter how hard you work to get big,

there's always someone bigger.

It could be what keeps them going.

Like Freud said, "Anatomy is destiny. "

What do you think Freud would have to say
about one of these being the murder weapon?

Killer didn't even have to be his size.

Could have been a little guy, or a woman.

All they would have needed was the right weapon,
some leverage, the element of surprise.

Victim is a well-developed Caucasian male.

Musculature appears hypertrophied.

Care to guess?

- Blunt-force trauma.
- Absence of bruising.

Maybe it was a post-mortem blow.

Let's find out.

Nine millimeter in the nightstand,
and syringes next to the bed.

Maybe our vic was putting the smack
in "smackdown. "

There was no blood on the poles or the weights.

Rigor mortis is full and extremely rigid.

Liver mortis is posterior and fixed.

Let's roll him.

That's good.

Present on the bilateral buttocks
are multiple fine punctures,

with some surrounding faint purple ecchymosis.

Laceration noted at the base of the scalp.

Loss of blood from that laceration
is significant but non-fatal.

Left eye socket appears swolen...

We have a biohazard situation.

You need to be decontaminated immediately.

Crime lab. How can we help you?

Sara, I just want you to know,
when we were in the shower,

I didn't see anything.

Really? Gosh, I saw everything.

The black pus suggested
a possible infection from an airborne agent.

I took the precaution to get you out
until Hazmat cleared the scene.

Yeah, thanks a lot.

What did they find?

Actually, it's what I found...

mucormycosis, a disease caused
by exposure to rhizopus oryzae, a kind of mold.

Did you say rhizopus oryzae?

We spent hours in that house.

You're not at risk.

You both have healthy immune systems.

I suspect that's not the case with your vic.

Copy that.

Trace on the syringes was Deca-Durabolin,
Sustanon and Oxandrolone.

Steroids.

That guy was "stacking" to get bigger.

Immune suppression is a common side effect.

So, how does a mold infection make it look

like someone smashed him across the face?

His face collapsed from the inside.

Mucor causes deterioration of the bones
around the sinuses and eye sockets.

You remember the swollen eyeball?

The pus was pushing it out,
while the bones that held it in place were getting eaten away.

The airborne mold spores enter the nasal cavity

and they consume sinus tissue as they multiply.

So, his compromised immune system wasn't strong
enough to fight the spread of the infection.

- That's right.
- Sick.

And what's even more sick is that rhizopus oryzae
likes to grow on human tissue.

Mold grows outward as spores reproduce
and are carried away from the source.

If we can pinpoint the source of the human tissue, that should tell you something.

Whew! We have got to be getting close
to the source.

Shut the blinds.

Here?

A whole lot of blood.

We're getting warmer.
Open it up.

Looks like we found the source of the mold.

So, how does human tissue get inside a wall?

Good question.

There's a hole in the air duct.

It looks like a bullet hole...

It's a nine mil.

Same as the handgun I found in the bedroom.

Copper-jacketed.

Good penetrating power.

I think somebody was shot here.

Bullet pushed blood and tissue through the wall.

Water from the pipe leak fed the mold growth.

It took a while, but the mold released spores,

which spread through the house AC,
and right on up into muscle-head's nose.

We ran the phone numbers from the vic's planner.

Everybody checked out, except
for a woman named Tiffany.

No last name?

Well, Tiffany is actually a street name
for Angela Wheeler, known prostitute.

Her family reported her missing last month.

Well, anyone who appears this narcissistic
may prefer paying for hookers

rather than wasting his love on a girlfriend.

And as we know, in addition to immune
suppression and heart and liver disease,

steroid abuse can also cause shrunken testicles,
impotence and aggression...

"roid rage. "

Baby, looks like you have one muscle
that isn't hard.

You think that's funny, bitch?!

So, if the DNA from the tissue
on the bullet matches Tiffany...

We have a sample?

A DNA reference sample was collected
from her apartment in the initial investigation.

Mia's on it.

Very good.

This is just like that Edgar Allen Poe story

where the victim's heart under
the floorboards betrays the murder.

"The Tell-Tale Heart. "

I thought you didn't like reading the classics.

I do when they're about dismembered bodies.

Move over Chester, my dogs are barking.

Come on, now, move over a little bit.

Let me sit down.

Chester, damn!

It's not me.

Why don't you put your shoes back on?

Sweet Lord.

Kid can't be more than 12 or 13.

You think he's homeless?

Jeans are a little nice for a homeless kid.

Check his veins and do a SART kit anyway.

Can you ballpark a T.O.D.?

Sure.

Well, he's just developing rigor,

so, I'd say dead no more than eight hours.

This is a busy line... Buses, traffic...

And nobody noticed him?

Maybe be hasn't been here the whole time.

Could explain the blanket.

Body dump.

Chester, you been taking
that thing off road again?

Nah, mud screws up the ride.

I bet you always get a bad cart at the store?

Not me.

Thanks, guy.

Sir, all I'm asking for is your class roster.

Ye... Yes, yes, I'm very aware of
Butterfield Academy's privacy policy,

but this a homicide investigation.

Daluca's all over the condoms.
And get this, on one of them...

Sir, please, court orders take time.

You could help me identify this boy tonight.

I understand your position.
Thanks.

Whatever happened to this boy wasn't pretty.

First- and second-degree burns
on several areas of exposed skin.

What about the burn to the face?

Could that be from an iron?

It's a possibility.

He sustained several hematomas along his arms,

together with a nasty skull fracture.

I'm thinking child abuse.

Skull fracture what killed him?

No. Positional asphyxia.

Check out his eyes.

Heat damage.

To all the respiratory mucosa, as well.

I'd say this kid was in a small,
hot space for quite a while.

Closet with a radiator, boiler room...

Shake and bake.

I heard you were looking for the student
directory for Butterfield Academy.

Yeah. Yeah.
How'd you get this?

I talked to the headmaster.
He wouldn't give me jack.

I pay tuition.

Your daughter goes to Butterfield?

Wow. That's a little pricy.

She was at a crossroads and
I needed to put her in a school with tighter reins.

You know, when it comes to your kids,
you find the money.

You looking for a prom date?

No. I'm trying to I.D. a victim.

Thanks for this.

Good luck.

Thank you.

Oh. Hi there.
I've been ringing the bell.

Sorry. I was sleeping.

- No school today?
- I'm sick.

The whole house is sick.

Gosh. Okay.

Well, my name's Nick Stokes.

I'm with the Las Vegas Police Department,

and this is pretty important.

Parents around?

No. They're not home.

Do you have their cell phone
or work numbers handy?

Okay, they're skiing in Vail.

What are you gonna do?
Arrest me for having a kegger?

No, not exactly.

How old are you?

- What's going on, babe?
- Just go...

What?

How old is he?

My father's a lawyer,
so I probably shouldn't be talking to you.

You have a brother?

- Chase?
- Yeah, Chase.

Is... is he around?

No, he spent the night at his friend Andy's house.

Is that the last time you saw him?

I don't know.

Do you have a picture of your brother
I can take a look at?

Would you get that for me, please?

Thank you.

I'm gonna need your parents' contact information

if you don't mind, in Vail, okay?

You're Chase's best friend, Andy.

I need to know what happened last night.

Andy was supposed to sleep over at Chase's,

but Chase wasn't feeling well,

so Andy came home early instead.

Ma'am, please, I need to hear Andy's version.

Go ahead, Andy.

I told my mom I was sleeping at Chase's house,

and he told his sister we were sleeping
at my house.

Where were the Ryans?

They were in Vail.

We just wanted to see a high school party.

And did you?

Some of it.

- This tastes horrible.
- Just keep drinking.

It must get better.

Jackie caught us.

Made us leave.

We promised to go to my house.

We didn't.

We went to this arcade, played a few games,
and then I walked home.

What about Chase?

He stayed there, playing the games.

Talk to me, Goose.

Well, according to tox, junior was a boozer.

BAC three times the legal limit.

Yeah, the teenage sister had a kegger.

How old were you when you first got drunk?

16, 17.

Amortized over a generation, 12's about right?

So your saying, two generations from now,

four-year-olds are just gonna be getting trashed?

Pre-school graduation parties
are going to be off the hook.

But Chase's party was just getting started.

Tape lifts were a cornucopia.

Hairs: Caucasoid, Mongoloid, Negroid.

And feline and canine.

As for fibers, we have cotton, wool,
polyester, and someone brought Lycra.

Transfer from the blanket?

No. I tested that.

It came back clean.

Okay. What about the gack in the guy's hair?

Melted vulcanized rubber
and thermoplastic elastomers.

From the sole of your average athletic shoe.

What's hot, cramped, and full
of other people's hair?

As I've often said, that's your job.

Excuse me.

You the manager?

Yeah. I was taking my laundry
to the car, and the cart locked up on me.

Yup. We got this fancy system
'cause people steal 'em.

I'm the only one with a remote.

So...

I spend all day unlocking 'em.

Which one is it?

Murder?

A 12-year-old boy died in one
of your dryers the other night.

You trying to tell me you don't know
anything about it?

Couple of kids were playing around
the 'mat, making trouble.

I chased them out.

What happened after that...

I don't know.

That's it?

I don't buy it, Jared.

I don't.
You know why?

Your fancy carts.

And I know that no cart leaves that parking lot

unless somebody presses the magic button.

And I also matched tires treads.

Someone... wheeled one of your carts
through wet grass...

.. and dumped a dead 12-year-old boy
on a bus bench.

Okay, look,

I'm supposed to be on duty the whole time.

But this customer...
he was gettin' all pissed off.

Look at this, look at this!

See what it did to my vest.

I have to go to work in this.

I demand justice!

Will you get the hell out of here?

So I went next door.

Had to get the smell of detergent out of my nose.

Bought a Yoo-hoo.

I came back to check on things.

I didn't know if he was dead or not.

Bus bench. Hospital.

I could see how you could make the mistake.

You have any idea what the liability
would be on something like that?

But I'll let you know.

I was just hoping that somebody
would find him and take care of him.

Hey... you found him.

You put him in the dryer.

Chase can't even lock himself inside those things.

They lock from the outside.

And I matched your print on the handle.

I got it off your school's safe kit.

He asked me to.

Whoa! Dude!

Come on, turn it on!
Turn it on!

And after that, it gets a little fuzzy.

You put your best friend in a... in a dryer,
and you turned it on,

and you just walked away?

What is wrong with you?

Tough shift, huh?

Just another day in paradise.

Crime lab.
How can we help you?