CSI: Crime Scene Investigation s11e16 Episode Script

Turn On, Tune In, Drop Dead

Tonight there are still many questions looming in the wake of serial killer Nate Haskell's escape from from police custody.
Haskell, the convicted Dick and Jane Killer, was being transported in a prison van when an apparent coconspirator smashed her vehicle into the prison convoy, fatally shooting two corrections officers and another female accomplice, before she and Haskell then fled the scene.
Police continue to ask the public for any information they may have regarding the case.
Don't turn it off on my account.
Nothing I haven't seen, nothing I haven't heard.
You have any word? I got nothing.
- Nothing? - There's been sightings from here to Poughkeepsie-- nothing substantial, you know.
Man like Haskell gets on the loose, people get shook, start seeing things.
We got nationwide BOLOs, NCICs have been alerted.
That's how we catch criminals.
Haskell's a different matter, Jim.
Hey, Ray, there are a lot of people putting in a lot of time on this.
He'll make a move, we'll get him.
And until he makes a mistake, I guess we just satisfy ourselves picking up bodies, right? MAN Hey, buddy, you okay? We should call 911.
Let's get some tape out.
Everybody back! I'm not getting any pulse.
Hook him up to the EKG.
Not viable.
Flatliner.
No signs of life.
Affirm, a 419.
Roll coroner.
No apparent injuries.
I don't smell any booze.
Liver temp is 98 degrees.
Been dead less than an hour.
Okay, let's bag him.
I'm busy, okay? No, no, no, I can't talk about this now.
Well, I-I tried to talk about it this morning, but I'm busy now.
Uh-huh.
I'm sorry.
Did you say I act like my job is life and death? Well, excuse me, my, my job is just death.
Yeah, that's right.
overtime worth of death.
Which reminds me, I have a customer waiting.
I gotta get back to work.
No, I'll call you later.
David? David? David, you're zoning out again.
I-I'm back, Doc.
So let me get this straight.
You found a John Doe in his 20s on the pavement near the Strip, and you brought him here dead.
Yeah, I-I was about to take a sample of his vitreous fluid when he, uh Well, he just Decided to leave? Well Oh, so a dead guy just got up and left? Okay.
How'd you end up on the ground? Well, I had to defend my domain.
Well, you put a hole in his liver.
I think I'd call that a draw.
Were you able to get a fingerprint or a blood sample or anything we can use to I.
D.
the man? No.
No, I just had time to snap a few photos, take personal effects from his pockets.
There's no wallet.
Captain Brass, coroner's office has been cleared.
No suspect found.
Copy that.
Put out a broadcast: "Suspect has left the building.
" Dead man walking.
Who are you? Who, who, who, who? Who are you? Who, who, who, who? I really wanna know Who are you? Oh-oh-oh Who Come on, tell me who are you, you, you Are you! Sweetie, I'm okay.
I'm sorry, too, honey bunny.
I feel awful, Doc, but I swear the guy was dead.
Did you check respiration? - Yes! - EKG? I'm telling you, it was a flatline.
Sweat on the body bag where the dead man's palms would have been.
Dead men don't sweat, do they, Doctor? About as often as they get up and walk away.
Have a trace of blood, as well.
That's from the liver stick puncture.
What'd you find in his pockets? City bus pass.
No particular route.
This old notebook, very well used, filled with all kinds of data.
"Stonewall 1/14, day seven.
"Number one-- Status quo.
Number two-- Moved from Falcon to Chameleon.
" And then these last pages are written in a completely different hand, dated a week ago.
"Making progress, feeling closer.
" Hey, got some surveillance.
Dead rising, birds falling from the sky, fish dying in rivers.
Should we be looking for the Antichrist to make an appearance? Haskell being on the loose is enough to fill our quota.
- Coffee? - Yes.
Thanks! No ambulance yet, huh? Nope.
Early bird gets the caffeine.
You said you have a DB with a head wound? I do.
Some of the shop owners around here complain about the homeless people being too at home in these alleys.
So I check on 'em from time to time.
- Just how far a walk are we talking about? - Right here.
Are you sure? He was right here, dead! I checked his pulse myself.
I'm not kidding you; he was here.
Well, we got a blood pool.
You weren't dreaming.
Looks like he, uh, hit his head on the gutter spout? Maybe he was intoxicated.
You know, heavily enough to suppress his heart rate, make him appear pulseless.
That's him.
Surveillance footage from the garage at the end of the alley where you found him and then lost him.
Captain, I swear.
Look, the good news for you is this isn't the first time this has happened today.
That's the second body that's just got up and walked away.
It's a zombie epidemic.
A zombie epidemic? Is that how you're gonna characterize it? Turn around and tell these guys we have a zombie epidemic in Las Vegas.
See how far you get.
Come on.
Maybe you ought to keep that to yourself.
DMV facial recognition? Yeah.
Yeah, it's worth a shot.
You know, I considered calling the DMV.
Half the people that work up there are the walking dead anyway.
Maybe they recognize this guy.
Uh, I got the DNA results on the blood found in the alley and the body bag.
Neither John Doe was in CODIS.
Hodges has a proposal: that they become the inaugural entrants in his copyrighted ZODIS.
Hmm? Yeah, "Zombie DNA Index System.
" He made me say that.
He also wants you to know that zombie blood is no different than regular human blood.
The potassium and glucose levels are consistent with the living.
That's all you have for us? I ran tox, too, and both samples were clean.
Although, working with such minimal samples is fairly useless.
You know, brain-hungry zombies could say the same thing about Hodges.
Minimal sample.
Fairly useless.
Exactly.
I searched for combinations of the terms in morgue zombie's notebook, and discovered a Defense Department program called "Stonewall" that took place on the WLVU campus in the early '70s.
Psychological research.
Found a schematic of the campus building that was used in the experiments.
Included some rooms code-named "Falcon" and "Chameleon.
" Researchers were exploring a variety of fringe psych concepts such as ESP, out-of-body experience.
- Science fiction.
- Not if they help us defeat the commies.
One of the most notable psychologists involved was a man named Dr.
Eliot Davis Aden.
"EDA.
" This probably belonged to him.
He's an interesting guy.
World-renowned psychoanalyst, but fell down the rabbit hole of psychedelic drugs.
Was dismissed by the scientific community, but not without one big, fat scandal.
Rumor has it that Dr.
Aden had become a bit of a Dr.
Feelgood for the student body.
At least until one of his students threw himself out of a fifth-story window, and the party came to an end.
He was banished by the university, but charges were never pressed.
So the government didn't want to step on the toes of someone who knew their secrets.
All right, so our morgue zombie is walking around with Dr.
Aden's notebook.
There's got to be a connection.
Is Aden still around? He still receives a government pension check.
And I was able to track down the address where he receives it.
Hello, Doctor.
Casino's three miles further.
Dr.
Aden? Dr.
Aden Uh we'd like to speak with you.
You got the wrong guy.
We're from the crime lab.
We found something of yours.
Lying government bastards! Ivory-tower turncoats! Frat boy plays window Icarus, and the university throws my reputation out the window with him.
They claimed that all of my papers had been destroyed.
Banished me from university property.
It was a good way to cut me out of the green and the glory.
It's Philo Farnsworth all over again! I'm sorry.
Where did you find this? In the pocket of, uh, this young man.
Do you recognize him? Uh-uh He's dead? He's obviously on an autopsy table.
Actually, the young man in question arose.
The Lazarus myth made real? Re-animation? This is getting more interesting.
It's, uh not as easy as you might think, bringing back the dead.
It's not work for neophytes.
Or the reckless.
Or the timid.
Oh, sure, they can conjure up a cardiac spasm, or a momentary flash from the bioelectric system.
That's not the same as Doctor, are you saying that you conducted re-animation experiments at Stonewall? What's your clearance, soldier? Uh about five-nine.
Doctor, are those your notes from the re-animation experiments? It's hard to say.
It's my writing.
I won a lot of awards for penmanship in third grade.
Of course, staying between the lines for me wasn't easy.
These last entries.
It's not my handwriting.
Some vulture is perching on my giant shoulders.
Feasting on the carrion of my discoveries.
Treating the work as their own.
In your, um, re-animation experiments, Doctor, how far would you say you were able to get? I had the Ithaca of that most profound mystery within my sights.
Could almost reach out and touch it.
But I saw the storm clouds gathering.
The maelstrom.
For those not wise enough to pull their sails in, certain destruction awaits.
I'm trying to say this isn't good.
San Francisco girl, huh? Left my heart, and half my cerebral cortex in Frisco.
You ever see The Dead play the Fillmore? No, uh too busy with the dead everywhere else.
Lucky you.
The research librarian said that your work was archived in a disused wing of one of the buildings, gave me the keys, but said "enter at your own risk.
" Preface fit for any worthwhile venture.
Where is it? Lincoln Hall, room 317.
Right where I left it.
Lazy, lying bastards! I really don't know, Conrad.
Maybe we need a new classification for this type of situation.
D.
O.
-AWOL.
That was a joke! - Hey, Catherine.
- Later, Conrad.
I got a DMV facial recognition match on the morgue zombie.
Oh, Max Ferris.
Mm-hmm.
Home address is on the WLVU campus, so I called the school.
He's a grad student in psychology.
- Could be how he got Aden's notebook.
- Yeah.
I'll have Brass send a uniform to his place, trap his credit cards, see if we can track him down.
Nice.
We don't need a key.
The lock's been busted out.
Easy.
Easy, Doctor.
Easy, easy, easy.
We don't want to tamper with this.
This is all evidence.
This is my Library of Alexandria.
My trove of treasures.
I may have been banned bodily, but I wandered it nightly in my dreams.
Looks like someone's been doing some independent study here.
Doctor, are these all your papers? Do you know how many papers I wrote? I'm asking.
How about we get back to you on that? Hmm.
"Reflections On Near-death Experiences.
" "Death As Gateway.
" That was my "White Album.
" They all appear to be on the same subject.
Sooner or later, all us chickens cross the road.
Now, aren't we all curious about what's on the other side? Hey, Doc.
Your other subjects look untouched.
Whoever's been playing around with your papers was only interested in your research on death-related phenomena.
Making your acolyte's visit to the morgue what? A field trip? In all my journeys to the other side, I never left this building.
DMT, ketamine, those were the only tickets I needed.
Hallucinogenic trips? Better than a ride in a coroner's van? Where is it? Where is it? What have they done to my song? Dr.
Aden! So, Captain Klepto, you don't look like Max Ferris.
Guy was passed out on the sidewalk.
A real eyesore.
So it's your civic duty to steal his wallet, take his cash, and swipe his credit card? I had that plastic for a whole day.
I only used it once.
For a six-pack of beer, so Cleaning up the streets and fiscally responsible.
You ought to run for office.
Look out, Mayor Goodman.
Hey, I gave you his wallet and his phonething.
What are the odds you'll just cut me loose, huh? This is a phone? Didn't look like any phone I'd seen, either.
But I'm a couple iPhones behind.
Yeah, I'll bet you are.
It's not a phone.
It's a wearable camcorder.
Wireless video camera and receiver.
Our morgue zombie was using it.
Well, grab some popcorn.
Tonight, we take the ultimate step.
Beyond our past journeys of the mind.
Tonight, we free ourselves from the physical plane.
Unspooling the mortal coil, we seek the mystery that lies beyond Hey, Discovery Channel, kill the speech and let's kill some brain cells.
This guy on the left-- his clothing matches the description of our alley zombie.
It's a dead man's party.
Except the third person looks like a woman.
DR.
ADEN: How could they do this? What have they done? If they've given it to some health club Dr.
Aden, slow down.
Dude.
You going to tell us what we're taking? No need to add baggage to your trip.
Trust me, Kurt.
It's going to be an adventure.
It's time to put your cameras on.
See you on re-entry.
Godspeed, Alice.
Max's friends Kurt and Alice.
Maybe we can get access to Max's university email account; check his contacts.
See who his co-pilots were.
Yeah.
Angelfish.
Triggerfish.
Blue-ringed octopus.
All poisonous.
All alive.
Someone has been in here on a regular basis.
Effects are manifesting.
So Max has made his way to the Strip.
He's at the plaza by the Tangiers.
Increasing numbness of the mouth.
S Speech is becoming difficult.
Numbness spreading.
That hum.
The fish tank filter.
No, no, it's another harmonic.
She's here! Oh, my Santa Maria, my Nautilus! The vessel of all my dreams.
Dr.
Aden! Oh.
That's not Max Ferris.
That's our alley zombie.
De-animated.
The good doctor is content to wait in the hall.
He hasn't had this much excitement since Altamont.
Or so he says.
Police and coroners are on their way.
Pulled the victim's wallet.
Kurt Dawson.
Lived near campus, but his student ID expired about a year ago.
Dropped out of school.
Or dropped out of reality.
A sensory deprivation tank.
Did you ever see that movie Altered States? Oh.
Yeah.
My mom took me.
She found it therapeutic, calming.
Says it all.
- I saw it with some really good buds.
- Go, Dr.
Ray.
I know.
I only talk like a square.
Tank water's highly salinated; kept at body temp so the user floats in complete silence and darkness.
Blocking out all earthly stimuli.
You know, in the movie Altered States, William Hurt went into the tank naked.
To strip the self down to one's primitive, disembodied being is how you free the mind, allowing it to venture into other realms.
You wouldn't want to go venturing in ten pounds of wet clothes and sneakers.
Maybe the tank wasn't his idea.
I noticed some faint bruising that started to develop on Kurt's back and shoulder.
So, I snapped some infrared photos.
Hand marks.
He was held down.
That's one way to drown in just ten inches of water.
So drowning is COD? Heavy, edematous lungs, and fluid in his sphenoid sinus make it pretty clear.
I thought maybe you'd start chaining them down.
Although yanking out vital organs is a good way to keep the clients.
Henry.
Right.
Um, found trace of Tetrodotoxin-- TTX-- in his system.
It's a naturally occurring poison, toxic than cyanide.
It's present in a variety of sea creatures.
The toxin blocks sodium channels, blacking out the body's nervous system.
A dose the size of a pinhead can kill, and short of killing, it can completely paralyze a person for hours.
Considering his condition in that alley, I checked out the half-life table for TTX, and the current level of toxin in him would be consistent with a dose of two milligrams Enough to paralyze, suppress heartbeat and breathing, and get him mistaken for dead.
There was a fish tank with some poisonous specimens in the same room we found him in.
Could the toxins have been extracted from them? Sure.
With some sophisticated biochem resources.
Although there were two other substances present in his system-- LSD and cannabis.
Body was frozen, mind was ablaze.
I've been there.
This one's actually dead.
Congratulations.
You're batting .
500.
Yeah, great for a hitter, bad for pronouncing death.
Let me see your EKG.
What are you looking for, Doc? Your zombie from the Strip was under the influence of a paralytic, which we would have known if you'd had the gain on this unit correctly calibrated, which it's not.
The way you've got it set, it wouldn't pick up my heartbeat.
I'd be a flat-liner.
You're lucky you're not benched.
Misdiagnose the undead again, put my assistant in harm's way, and you'll find yourself unemployed.
Footprints in salt water leading towards the door.
The vic was wearing sneakers, size eights.
Yeah, well, these feet are at least size 11 or 12.
Maybe his pal Max came back here first.
I've got some light blue fibers here.
Same as the T-shirt Max Ferris was wearing in the morgue.
So Max makes a break from the coroner's office, comes here, dumps his clothes, gets in the tank to decompress.
And Kurt Dawson shows up.
They get into some sort of drug-induced fight.
Max wins and walks out of here.
Hey, Sara.
Hmm? Looks like Kurt lost his camera in the fight.
LSD and Tetrodotoxin-- "voodoo powder"-- curious combination.
To paralyze yourself in order to free yourself Well, what kind of state of mind would that produce in an individual-- this cocktail? There's an entire spectrum of possibilities.
Blazing, manic lucidity, to oppressive darkness.
Designer drugs-- one size does not fit all.
Could this cocktail produce, in certain individuals, uncontrollable rage, say? Why do you ask? Well, one of our young explorers killed the other.
Well, I would have to know more about the particulars of the situation.
There's no fighting in the war room, Dr.
Strangelove.
I want you to look at something.
beyond our past journeys of the mind.
Tonight, we free ourselves from the physical plane.
Unspooling the mortal coil, we seek the mystery that lies beyond.
Hey, Discovery Channel, kill the speech and let's kill some brain cells.
Dude, are you going to tell us what we're taking? No need to add baggage to your trip.
Flag on the play.
This young Columbus didn't prepare his crew.
He knew what the toxins would induce.
There's a vast difference between leading others into the beyond, and throwing them into it unwittingly.
To some, that's sinister science, and could inspire rage and fury.
So, Kurt, not knowing what he was taking, survives the paralyzing nightmare.
Comes back to confront Max.
They fight.
Max kills Kurt.
Yes.
The reckless master kills the wronged squire.
Sounds like a role you're not unfamiliar with.
Max was modeling himself after you, Dr.
Aden.
You and your work.
And here, you see, he sent his friends Alice and Kurt, unwittingly as you said, into the fire.
Probably felt like it was a a worthy sacrifice.
Knowledge demands its payment.
It's always nice when somebody picks up the bill for you, though.
Went through Kurt Dawson's e-mail accounts.
Found a number of messages exchanged between him, Max Ferris and another WLVU student, Alice Katsu.
Alice from the video.
Yeah.
Biochem major.
And like Kurt, she seemed to be under Max's spell.
Agreeing to his every experimental whim, late night meetings in the abandoned lab, rambling discussions on the afterlife.
Well, we know what happened to Max's other friend.
We need to find Alice.
Do you have any earthly contact info on her? So, Mr.
Katsu, when was the last time you saw your sister? Three days ago.
It's just Alice and me here.
When she's at school and I'm at work sometimes we go a couple of days without even bumping into each other.
Even when she's here, she's quiet.
Sometimes, it feels like having a ghost in the house.
Mom liked jelly beans.
It's a Shinto shrine-- offering for the dead.
Alice even plucked out the black ones.
She's got some academic honors awards from the past few semesters, but an academic probation letter from just a month ago.
A card from her mom's funeral five months ago.
Doesn't take a detective.
Mom's death took a toll.
Ooh, another one of Dr.
Aden's notebooks.
"Question of crossing over physically versus mentally.
Are they inextricably linked?" She took a picture of Mom's grave every day.
Capturing the change in light and seasons.
Trying to shape something living out of the dead.
I think, while Max Ferris dosed himself to explore the mysteries of the afterlife, and Kurt was out for a good time, Alice Was traveling in search of someone.
Maybe we'll find Alice if we look in the same direction she was looking.
Groundskeeper said it was right around here somewhere.
I don't think they're going anywhere, Mitch.
Yeah, right.
Hey.
Alice? Max? Max.
Whoa! Down.
On your knees.
I thought she'd be here.
Max, you're crashing from a bad trip.
We need to get you to a hospital.
Stop, Max! Stop! Stop! Max! Oh, my God! No pulse.
I'm cuffing him anyway.
Stand back, sir.
Dr.
Aden said this was going to end badly.
We have two dead.
Let's hope there's still time for Alice.
The notebook I found in Alice Katsu's room is a match to Dr.
Aden's handwriting, but the ink looked fresh, so I tested it.
It is a date-tag match to a formula that's only been around a couple of years.
Which means Dr.
Aden wrote those notes recently.
Right.
The notebook was not among his archived papers.
So how did Alice get it? From the doctor himself.
He and Alice were e-mail buddies.
She initiated contact five months ago.
- When her mother died.
- Hmm.
But Aden is not exactly advertising on bus benches.
Alice saw an anonymous commenter on a Web site about the doctor's past work.
She kind of felt like Mr.
Anonymous knew a little bit too much.
So she e-mails, "Dear sir, "I'm convinced by your brilliant insights "that you are Dr.
Aden himself.
"I'm a great admirer of your courageous research "into the afterlife.
I want to follow in your footsteps.
" He was quick to respond, "Glad to have an acolyte," and encouraged her to find more of them.
Max and Kurt.
And we thought Max was driving the bus, but it was Alice.
Hey, you guys.
I got something for you to see.
I was scanning through through Kurt Dawson's video and I noticed something strange.
So, here, Kurt's just wandering campus.
Then this happens.
Some kind of interference.
Yeah, Kurt's receiver picked up a signal from another camera.
I'm working on isolating the competing image, but in the meantime, I managed to pull a few frames.
Well, those are women's shoes.
Are we looking through Alice's camera? She must have been in close proximity to Kurt, if his receiver picked up her feet.
Where is she, and what's she doing? It's hard to say.
But check this out.
What, a car stopped for her? It looks like an old Saab.
Hey, didn't Sara mention something about Dr.
Aden driving an old dinosaur like that? His car's gone.
Well, he's smart enough to lead us along, maybe he knew we were coming.
Dr.
Aden! Dr.
Aden?! Hello?! Hello?! "Alice-- DMT-- Feb 10, 2011.
Alice-- Ketamine-- Jan 18, 2011.
" They had a regular thing going.
This one's from yesterday.
Can you blink, Alice? Come back.
Come back! Focus! Tell me everything you've seen.
I need to know what you're seeing.
Let me in, Alice.
Let me in.
I'm not just your hookah-smoking caterpillar.
Tell me everything you've seen! I need to know! just a mouse click away.
Dr.
Aden supplied the paralytic.
Alice just passed it around.
Mm-hmm.
I know you've arrived there, Alice.
Don't leave me behind! Alice?! The video camera.
This one's from today.
I've come to a crossroads.
The false path ends here.
I've flirted with the precipice for too long dispatching canaries into the celestial coal mine, but shying from the descent myself.
No longer.
I now slip not just the bonds of mind, but of body and spirit.
I'm ready to set sail unafraid.
Ithaca I come.
You hear that? Yeah.
Dr.
Aden! Doctor? A faint pupil response.
He ingested the toxin around noon.
At his age, depriving his brain of oxygen for that period of time, he's in there, but I doubt he'll ever find his way back out.
What rabbit hole has Alice fallen down? WILLOWS Nick, are you at the campus? Aden's car's parked out front.
Campus police called it in.
I'm, uh, checking the building.
Copy.
Alice? We've been looking for you.
I was looking for someone, too.
Your mother? I found her! I saw she was happy.
She told me she loved me.
Told me to go back.
Alice Where, where, where are Kurt and Max? I have to tell them it was everything I thought I imagined.
I need to know if they found it, too.
They're not coming back, Alice.
Hallucinogens, neurotoxins and sensory deprivation.
These kids weren't really venturing to the other side.
You think they were just inducing chemical dreams? All their visions could be explained by neuroscience.
Yeah.
Don't get me wrong.
I'm sure Adam and Eve, when they stood over the first dead body, meditated on where his soul went.
Humans have always pondered whether there's an afterlife.
Yeah, if the dead could talk, we'd all have our answers, but no one's talking.
They haven't so far.
Which leads me to believe that part of life that is death is meant to be a mystery.
You don't sound very scientific, Doc.
I see people on the last, worst day of their lives.
And I'd like to believe they go to a better place.
I'd like to think I know you a little better than that.
Well, I was taught that in Sunday school long before medical school.
You know what I believe? I believe that people that bring suffering and pain into this world should have it repaid to them tenfold, either in this world or the next one.
Careful.
Evil has a way of making friends with the good and dragging them into the darkness.

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