CSI: Crime Scene Investigation s02e08 Episode Script

Slaves of Las Vegas

-//- Subtitle FPS=25,000 - Edited by DivXTurk v.
22a -\\- You're gonna get it.
Oh, you're gonna get it! I got you.
I got you.
I got you! I got you.
Butchy, what's wrong? Keep going.
(Screams) You've been walking in circles for ten minutes.
There's no sign of struggle.
Whatever happened happened somewhere else.
- This is a secondary scene.
- Body dump? Textbook.
David, when we dig her up, I want you to tag her "special processing".
The only person who knows where the crime scene is has a mouthful of sand.
A thousand square miles of desert in Vegas, this perp dumps the body in a sandbox! He didn't put it here to hide it.
He put it here to be found.
What do you think? I think we got a van full of tools we can't use Sand's a nightmare.
To get to the evidence we may destroy the evidence.
Do you get these haikus out of a book or do they just come to you? Every time you find a body you have to choose a path.
And when you take that path, grasshopper, you risk destroying the evidence.
We grab a trowel and some fine mesh screens and we just pretend like we're panning for gold Master.
Gunshot victim shipped to Desert Palms.
Santee Cherna, 32.
Runs this cheque-cashing joint.
- Cash business, huh? - Shot in the leg making his weekly bank run.
Let me guess.
The guy makes his runs - same time every week.
- Night deposit.
He's either stupid or suicidal! We can't arrest people for that.
The whole thing went down here.
The sister heard a gunshot.
Saw a car take off.
I'm gonna do a once-around.
All right.
I'll take the lot.
You run this car already? Oh, yeah.
The RO's our vic.
That's his spot.
Oh, yeah? Hey, Warrick, check this out.
We're dealing with some criminal geniuses.
Grab the moneybag, slice it and run.
You forgot er leave the evidence on the ground.
Let's see.
We got some cheques.
No cash.
And a deposit slip for $22,500.
So our victim breaks out of the store with a bag full of dough.
- Same time every week.
- I guess somebody was casing the joint.
Or it was an inside job.
This morning everything was fine.
Then some penejo attacks my brother, and we're out God knows how much money and I'm stuck running the place alone.
Mrs Delgado, I know you're upset.
Upset is for white people, lady.
I'm pissed off.
My brother was shot in the thigh.
That's awful close to serious, if you know what I'm saying.
- Mrs Delgado, how long have you been here? - Six years.
- You have insurance? - You'd better have insurance! You take 6% of a man's paycheck to cash it? People use us, - but they don't like us.
- Thank you.
So You think the brother might be behind this? Well, I might bet my own paycheck on that one.
If that's true, our vic gets to collect the insurance money.
Plus he gets to keep the money he stole from himself.
Nice scam.
What's the first thing you do when you see one of these on your windshield? - Chuck it.
- Exactly.
But the only guy to chuck his was the victim.
I found one on the ground next to his car.
So whoever put these here wasn't gone long when the brother was shot.
Potential eyewitness.
She died two to four hours before she was discovered.
Jury's still out on cause of death.
But considering the whip and ligature mark s, it was violent.
Some of the scars on her back are old.
Some are fresh.
What are we looking at? Rape? Multiple sexual assaults? That's the strange part.
Her body's a road map of abuse, but there's no sign it was sexual.
She hasn't had intercourse in months.
I'm thinking trade-in.
Some lowlife is tired of beating on the old model, so he punches her ticket and starts shopping around for version 2.
Here's a woman who's been beaten on a regular basis, but look at the care she's lavished on herself.
Manicured fingernails.
Manicured toenails.
Perfect teeth.
Not to mention some serious breast augmentation.
That is not a Tijuana boob job.
Those puppies are top of the line.
Looks like a pair of saline leads.
Can you grab me one of those? - Left or right? - Dealer's choice.
What up, Einstein? Ooh! You got anything there? You think Einstein had people hovering over his shoulders? If he did, would we be walking around with E = mc^2 T-shirts? Would you step back? Just give me some breathing room.
Maybe I'll tell you about the silver sliver Grissom found on Sandbox Girl's back.
It's all yours.
Let's see what the library has to say.
Tempered steel with aluminum coating.
- Maybe she was chained up.
- Then she wore something funky.
She was in the raw.
In a manner of speaking.
You remember the sparkly stuff Grissom got? - Yeah.
- I broke it down.
Tree sap, ammonia and water.
- Sounds like frat house gravy.
- Liquid latex.
- Never heard of it.
- Really? It's all the craze now.
Girls paint it on guys.
Guys paint it on girls.
You can paint it on yourself, if that's what you're into.
Can't get a date.
- I got it.
- Like I would know.
I got it, man.
Hey, is that our guy? Detective Vega.
Can I see some ID? I am a legitimate businessman.
My card.
How often do you distribute here? On this street? Every Thursday and Friday.
- Is that a crime? - That depends.
Did you see anything unusual last night in the parking lot at Flamingo and Rhoades? Missy, in Las Vegas unusual is what happens when you leave the house.
We can do this at the station, if you'd prefer.
Some jerk told me if I touched his car, he'd shove a flyer down my throat.
Does that count? Maybe.
Did you get a good look at him? Them.
There were two.
A couple of lowlifes in baseball caps.
What about the car? Did you notice the make? A Honda.
All those tin boxes look alike.
Dr Cornfeld Catherine Willows, Las Vegas Crime Lab.
I believe this is one of yours.
Oh, yeah.
414 series.
Firm, but plenty of give.
Spare me the sales pitch.
We removed that from a homicide victim.
I've got a photo.
Judging by the size, she had a pretty decent pair to start with.
She was a pretty girl.
I'm going to need her name.
Let's see.
Oh, yeah.
Here we go.
Third-party billing.
But I recognise the address.
They send me a lot of business Mona Taylor.
She must have worked there.
A real shame.
I'll tell you what's a shame.
That she was so pretty and perfect and still thought she needed implants.
Don't judge Mona for wanting to improve herself.
Competition's intense.
Especially for a young woman in Las Vegas.
Put yourself in her shoes.
Trust me.
I've been in her shoes.
I got out.
- Oh, yeah? Why's that? - They were killing me.
Are you sure the surgeon said this is where Mona worked? Maybe as a domestic.
No domestic has a $10,000 rack.
Not even in Vegas.
DMV records indicate that she hit town from South Dakota three years ago.
I figure the bright lights faded and she snagged a sugar daddy.
How much business can one sugar daddy give a plastic surgeon? The eternal question, to which we are about to find the answer.
Let me guess.
Three police officers looking for respite from having to control and dominate our big bad city.
One police officer.
Two criminalists.
May we come in? (Male screams) Another happy customer.
Would you prefer individual sessions, or would you like to enjoy each other's submission? You don't have to decide now.
Please, make yourselves comfortable.
And welcome to Lady Heather's dominion.
That's her.
"I AM 4 FUN.
" Right.
She drove herself to work.
Bet she didn't drive herself home.
It's still locked.
Looks clean.
Hey, Catherine.
Come check this out.
What's that? Liquid latex.
Grissom found some on the victim.
Sanders did a trace analysis.
Stuff peels off like a glove.
What do you think that is there? A watch? Bag it.
We can get a mould and try and track it down.
Never lost one of my girls.
You don't seem very upset about it.
What you see and what I feel are two different things.
Were there any disturbances last night? Did you hear screams? (Screams) It's when I don't hear screams that I start to worry.
Well, then, could you tell us what time Mona got off? Knowing Mona, every couple of hours.
She enjoyed her work.
There's no sexual contact or anything illegal going on here, of course? Surely you don't think sexual contact is the only means of fulfilment? Lady Heather, you don't wanna know what I think.
Her last client was at eleven.
She would have left at midnight.
Do you have any kind of logbook, some record of who was working that night, what they did with clients, that sort of thing? - Would that get you excited? - Not particularly.
But it might help us catch the creep who murdered Mona.
We need names and addresses.
We also need to know which rooms she worked, so we can examine them.
Mona worked the pool house.
Give me a minute.
I have to move some clients around.
On there you are Mona's car is in the driveway.
It looks clean.
Tow it to CSI and process the rooms in the pool house where Mona worked last night.
And you will be? I'll be with Lady Heather.
(Screams) Does all this fascinate you? Yes.
I find all deviant behaviour fascinating in that to understand our human nature we have to understand our aberrations.
And you think what goes on here is aberrant? I would say that whip marks and ligature contusions on a young woman are aberrant.
Wouldn't you? Every job has its peculiar hazards.
Rock stars damage their eardrums.
Football players ruin their knees.
In this business it's scars.
But no-one who works for me has ever sustained a serious injury.
Mona did.
She died.
Not because she worked here.
That's your assumption.
What happens here isn't about violence.
It's about challenging preconceived notions of Victorian normalcy.
Bringing people's fantasies to life, making them acceptable.
Like the theatre.
It's people who don't come to places like this that I worry about.
The ones who don't have an outlet.
Say someone like yourself.
Oh, I have outlets.
I read.
I study bugs.
I sometimes even ride roller coasters.
And your sex life? It doesn't involve going to the theatre.
In my experience, Mr Grissom, some men go to the theatre some men are the theatre.
Either way, what I offer is a chance for submission or control, whichever's required.
Sometimes a client doesn't know what he wants until I show him.
"No man is a complete mystery except to himself.
" Marcel Proust.
I bet he'd have enjoyed himself here.
No crime is a complete mystery either.
The whip marks on Mona Taylor were fresh.
That can't be.
Mona was dominant with her clients.
I know that sometimes she saw clients off the book s.
I let her because she brought in so much business.
I just assumed she knew what she was doing.
My guess is that one of her off-the-book clients is a regular.
I mean it is a repeat business, is it not? Does that one interest you? Yes, it does.
May I borrow it? You dirty little stink boy! (Man groans) Randolph, you may lick my boots and go.
- Is it because I'm naughty? - Shut up! I feel like I'm trapped in the Marquis de Sade's brainpan I guess Lady Heather hasn't quite cleared this room yet Waiting for recess.
Didn't Grissom say he found flecks of silver on the victim's back? Yean I may have found the source.
Hey, hey! Liquid latex.
The kind we found in the dumpster and on the vic.
Hand me a bindle, will you? You know what I just realised? None of this weirds me out any more.
People are just as twisted in their own living rooms.
The props are different here, that's all.
Not everybody's twisted.
Everybody, Nick.
Wake up and smell the species.
Catherine, do you really think that those freaks out there running round with their little dog collars on, getting spanked, are the same as you and me? Just because you never did doesn't mean you never could.
No way.
Never gonna happen.
Relax, Nick.
All I'm saying is you're human.
Hey, man, my mom and dad are human and If there's one thing you learn on this job, it's that humans are capable of anything.
A smudge of dirty tyre on a ratty piece of paper.
I know.
I know.
It suck s.
You couldn't get anything off of it, huh? Just because I'm a newbie doesn't mean I'm not good.
Your tyre print from the strip mall.
Common to a lot of compacts and sub-compacts.
One manufacturer who uses it as standard - Honda.
So that confirms what Sara's eyewitness said.
What else you got? I've got incidental marks from where the tyre ran over something.
Left an impression.
All you have to do is find the tyre attached to the vehicle your shooter was driving.
Look at the bullet from your vic's thigh.
Five lands and grooves on it.
That would be a Colt.
38 calibre.
According to Vega, the vic owns a Colt.
And? And since he mysteriously got shot in the leg, instead of a vital organ, I'm thinking I should go visit him.
Mona Taylor didn't die from the beatings, but cause of death was equally as slow.
- You look like you expected it.
- I considered it.
There's something else.
She had some odd scarring on the inside of her nose.
It's a small red circle She worked at a sex club.
Could be caused by anything.
Like a straw? Maybe I lack imagination, but why would you need a straw at a sex club? Well, it's not a sex club, actually.
It's a fetish club.
- There's a difference? - Like a straw is not used for sipping mint juleps.
- Cocaine? - Air.
Anything from last night would be in here.
The usual accoutrements.
- We don't technically have a warrant.
- Not necessary.
I want to help.
Go ahead.
How can I do this for a living? Oh, that's not what I was thinking.
- How much does this place clear a week? - Ten grand.
I'm not with the IRS.
I don't make that in three months.
- Sex pays a lot better than death.
- Plus the outfits are cooler.
I have this genius tailor.
Worked at The Desert Inn back in the day.
I let him come in weekends and play human ashtray.
He designs for me and my girls.
It's a fair trade.
You got a good thing going here.
The best part is, these guys think getting slapped around and humiliated is their fantasy.
- It's like I always tell my daughter.
- A daughter? - 18 this month.
Freshman at Harvard.
- Really? - Mine's seven.
- Oh.
That's a great age.
When I thought Zoe was ready to hear it, I told her, "Honey, there are a lot of things you can give a man.
Your body.
Your time.
Even your heart.
But the one thing you can never, ever, ever let go of is your power.
" All my mother ever said to me was, "Cash upfront.
" Don't take this the wrong way, but you've got everything it takes to make a great dominatrix.
I take that as a compliment.
Well, you should.
It's just about knowing yourself.
Being strong.
And not taking any crap from powerful jerks who are used to giving it all day long.
Well, death is still a man's business, and I don't have to tell you about police work.
So how do you survive? By knowing myself.
And working hard.
And by not taking any crap from powerful jerks who are used to giving it all day long.
These are the masks and straws I took out of the sink at Lady Heather's.
- None of which have been washed.
- Mona was a dominatrix at the club But my guess is that she was a switch for her off-the-books clients.
(Greg laughs) You know what a switch is? Someone who's dominant as well as submissive.
Oh, he's even got the lingo down.
(Makes whip-crack sound) If Mona's DNA is in one of these mask s, then she was the submissive on the night she died.
You're so dialled into this case, I bet you don't need me to tell you which mask had her DNA.
Yes, I do, Greg.
I also need to know which straws she used.
Oh, nice! That's the idea, Greg.
Two straws per mask.
- You can't get any air through pens.
- Not much more through straws.
And even less if someone's finger's on the other end.
I found the victim's DNA on this mask.
And these two straws.
Red mark, victim.
Blue mark Our killer.
Now we just need a suspect.
You got the Yin.
I got the Yang.
Actually, I've got the Yang and you've got the Yin.
At least as far as our watch moulds go.
So that's from her wrist No air bubbles.
Good job.
Thank you.
Now we'll see how yours turns out.
And from the trash can Wow! Looks like there's a few carats around that bezel.
And the band.
Major buck s.
Oh, and Computer Graphics keyed up this video system.
Just hit it.
Yin and Yang Top and bottom.
Definitely not a man's watch, but unique.
I wonder who bought it You know any fine jewellers? You have my pants? I wake up, I look around, I can't find my damn pants.
You can't wear 'em out of here.
So, what, you want 'em as a souvenir? - I want my stuff.
- Why don't we talk about your pistol? - I have one gun.
- It wouldn't happen to be a Colt? It's on a shelf behind the cash register.
Ay, mi hermano, I was so worried about you.
Hey, don't worry.
The doctor said everything was gonna be OK.
Burglary? In this neighbourhood? Are you missing any personal property? Jewellery? Small valuables? A watch, perhaps? No.
My wife didn't mention anything either.
Again! I'm sorry.
I have to go change Dylan.
Before you do, Mr Nelson, in the last year did you buy a diamond watch at Maarten's Jewellers at the Forum Shops? Yeah.
In my spare time between the grocery store, the park and Baby Jamboree.
This is my life.
Thanks for your help.
Why do men always make everything look so tough? If the dad didn't buy the watch, then the mom did.
Brass has the credit card receipt.
A $20,000 watch and he didn't discuss it? He's lying.
I thought my husband answered your questions.
- He tried.
- Gustav Stickley.
Very nice furniture.
No pictures of your family, though.
I know what they look like.
Most people keep pictures of their loved ones.
I would hope I'm not like most people.
Is there a point to this? Did you order a $20,000 custom-made watch from a jeweller at the Forum Shops? - I did.
Is there a problem? - No.
We'd just like to see it.
- Do you have a warrant? - Do we need one? The truth is, I lost it on a business trip.
I'm waiting to find out from the hotel if they found it.
Is that the trip that you took to LA with your boss Ronald? Let me refresh your memory.
You shared a suite.
Very cost-effective.
What did you save there? $200-300? I'm a corporate litigator.
It takes more than that to rattle my cage.
How about this? Are you familiar with a gal who calls herself Lady Heather? No.
One of the girls who works for Lady Heather was found dead with an imprint of your watch on her wrist.
That's why we'd like a sample of your DNA.
That's a big leap.
Lost watch to a DNA request.
I think we're done here.
- What do you know about the moneybag? - Clean cut.
Quick way in.
Can you tell us anything about the tool that was used? - BFK.
- Big knife.
Tell us something we don't know.
I found materials on the cut.
It's gotta be transfer from the knife.
Red fibres.
All uniform length.
The refractive index of the fibres is 1.
It's a synthetic.
- Like the insulation in my attic.
- Close.
But those amber beads are catalysts.
Resin which causes the fibreglass to harden when poured into a mould.
A mould? To make what? There's three fibreglass manufacturers here in Vegas.
This is the largest one for prefab baths and showers.
24 employees.
Everybody in the bath business uses isophthalic resin.
It has the highest water resistance.
Downside is the stuff gets everywhere.
Hair, clothes, skin.
Small world, huh? It's ironic, Hector.
We're investigating your brother-in-law's shooting and look where we end up.
We found traces of resin and fibreglass on Santee's moneybag.
So? So how many knives in Vegas come into contact with both those materials? Dame la navaja.
- It could be anyone's knife.
- And we have a tyre print.
See? You got the wrong car.
We never said what model we were looking for.
We're looking for a Honda, Hector.
Do you have one? Because we can check your house.
Why don't we just start in this parking lot? Hey, come down here! You know, it don't look good when you run, man.
- You wanna tell us who the Honda belongs to? - I don't know.
OK, a friend of mine.
But he told me nobody would get hurt.
I guess that makes everything OK.
You again.
I thought you would have gotten the message.
Oh, we did.
We also got a warrant.
Is this some kind of joke? This is limited to my watch box.
Sometimes that's all it takes.
- Eileen, honey, everything OK? - Cameron, go see what Dylan needs.
I think my watch box is in my glove compartment.
Is the watch in the box? Latex Like Hansel and Gretel, we just followed the breadcrumbs all the way home.
Afternoon tea How nice I like a bit of civility before dark, when all the needy little boys show up.
I'm a little needy myself today.
My lab pulled skin cells from Mona Taylor's straws.
DNA sample? I have several clients in law enforcement.
XX or X Y? They're male.
Have you ever seen either of these two people? Not the wife, but I have seen the husband.
- I didn't say they were married.
- It's obvious.
He's clenching her hand with both of his and leaning toward her.
See now she's twisting away, presenting herself to the wealthy alpha male She's insensitive.
He's insecure.
That's a setup for matrimony, not passion.
She wants the dominant male to choose her so she can stop being dominant.
You're very good.
You could work for me.
You wanna be my boss? You never know.
We both might learn something.
Oh, I'm sure of that.
I can read anyone who comes here and know their desires, sometimes even before they do.
Why do you think I selected china and table linens? You like fine things.
Or maybe I knew you'd like them.
The same way I know you enjoy most of the superficial trappings of civilisation.
I'm that obvious, huh? Only because you try not to be.
You spend your life uncovering what goes on beneath the surface of civility and acceptable behaviour.
So it's a release for you to indulge in something like high tea, where it seems, if only for a moment, the world really is civilised.
The most telling thing about anyone is what scares them.
And I know what you fear more than anything, Mr Grissom.
Which is? Being known.
You can't accept that I might know what you really desire because that would mean that I know you.
Something, for whatever reason, you spend your entire life making sure no-one else does.
Lady Heather, you're an anthropologist.
More tea? See, I could give the money back.
My wife doesn't even know.
If I give the money back to her brother, I could go home, right? Right? Tell us how it happened.
Then we'll talk about the future.
When I picked Carla up from work on Wednesday, I doubled back and I lifted the piece that Santee keeps by the register.
I figured I return it Friday.
Nobody would know.
Pretty smart, Hector.
I couldn't use my car cos Santee knew it.
So I hit up on a buddy.
Look, it's not like they're out of anything.
They're insured.
For the money and his health.
Nobody loses.
So can I go now? Hector's my husband - But I hope you keep him in jail a long time! - He's not going anywhere.
You commit a crime, you pay the price.
You got that right.
By the way, we found the $5,000 you skimmed from this business in your jeans pocket.
What?! You self-righteous bastard! You stand there and bad-mouth my husband while you're robbing me behind my back? I was just borrowing it, I swear.
- You gonna arrest his ass? - Yeah.
They had a warrant.
I didn't wanna bother you at work.
This qualifies as a harassment suit.
Too late.
- Grains of golden sand.
- What? Edgar Allan Poe.
Another man who was familiar with murder.
Played in any sandboxes lately, Mr Nelson? As my husband's attorney, I'm advising him not to speak with you.
Shut up, Cameron.
I'll handle this.
No, I will not shut up.
I didn't ask you to be my attorney.
You're just looking out for yourself.
I'm looking out for our family.
I'm the only one qualified.
Really? How exactly is sleeping with Ronald looking after your family? - Cameron! - Cameron what? You never gave a damn about me And our child Our child is some yuppie pet designed to make you look better at the firm, which happens to be the only family you care about.
Mr Nelson, you're very emotional right now.
Just take a moment.
Collect yourself.
Let me get you a glass of water.
No water.
No gum.
No anything.
If you think you can trick him into giving you some DNA, you're mistaken.
Liquid latex.
What is that supposed to mean? Your husband made Mona Taylor wear it every time that he paid to humiliate her.
Why would he do that? Psychologically, she was a surrogate.
In fetish club terms she was a slave Cameron would put a mask on her face and cover her body in liquid latex.
He made her into nothing, in order to make her into you.
- My watch.
- Well, I guess that made it more real.
Cameron couldn't dominate you, so he dominated Mona.
Only, his last appointment, he got carried away.
You corporate bitch! You think you're too good to touch your own husband? How about I make you beg for air? Huh? I make you beg for it! Go ahead.
Are you begging for it? Huh? I can't hear you, Eileen.
- I had to pay some girl to pretend to be my wife.
- Cameron, be quiet.
If this is all that you have, I am happy to go to trial.
Mrs Nelson, we're gonna match Cameron's epithelials to the ones on the end of the straws.
Wait, wait.
That's like DNA, right? That's DNA? OK.
I got an idea.
Why don't we test little Dylan's epithelials? See if his daddy isn't really your law partner.
Cos God knows, you haven't let me touch you in three years.
- I'm outta here.
- Where are you going? Away from you.
Other than that, I really don't care.
I just realised that you and I have a very healthy relationship.
We do? When we have a problem, I don't paint Greg Sanders in latex and stick a straw up his nose.
He'd probably like it.
Gil, you're supposed to say something revealing back to me.
I never told anybody this, Catherine