CSI: NY s06e20 Episode Script

Tales From The Undercard

- How does it feel to be a traitor? - We got families too, man! Get off me! Screw you and your family! You want it tough, huh? Huh, you backstabbing son of a bitch? Get the hammer.
Can't hear ya! Wipe that look off your face or I'll grind it to hamburger.
Just stick it in your eye.
Who says you can't get blood from a stone? The bigger question, is it human? Unfortunately, the answer's yes.
What we got is a good, old-fashioned Brooklyn labour dispute.
Union guys are angry at the scabs.
There's been 10 arrests at this site since the strike broke out.
I wonder if this concrete burial is linked to it? Let's take a closer look to find out.
There is someone under this concrete.
Judging from the radar image.
It looks like our vic was laid length-wise under slab.
Also looks like his arms are in a defensive position.
This wasn't just a body dump.
Our vic was buried alive.
No! # Out here in the fields # I fight for my meals # I get my back into my living # Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah # Thank you so much.
You got it.
I just spoke with the site foreman.
The replacement workers have been getting threats from the strike guys.
Lost wages and benefits are ample motive for murder.
We need to question every employee connected to the strike.
Any leads on the concrete burial? Foreman locked the security gate when he left, but he found it open.
The security chain on the gate was busted.
There are tyre treads on the site that don't match the construction vehicles.
Pull footage from traffic cameras and businesses.
Might help with your analysis of the tread pattern.
Get us to a make and model of a vehicle sooner.
A man takes a big risk crossing a picket line.
And this concrete tomb just might be a message.
Cases like this bring the term "John Doe" full circle.
It was first used as a legal placeholder during property disputes.
Seeing this, I can't help but wonder exactly what type of dispute Ied to our John Doe's demise.
Looks like he took a beating.
There's bruising on the left side of his face and his eyes.
Burn mark on his skin.
The official COD Iooks like asphyxia, judging from the petechial hemorrhaging in the eyes and the fact that our vic's airways were blocked with concrete.
Getting close to an lD? We hope to get prints as soon as we can clear a hand.
According to the ultrasound images, our vic is approximately 6ft 2 and about 200lbs.
I've given that much to Missing Persons.
Let's also compare it to the employee records from the construction site.
Someone out there knows who he is.
What have you got for me, Linds? It's true what they say.
A chain is only as strong as its weakest link.
In this case, it's 2,300lbs of pressure per square inch.
We're looking for a vehicle with at least 350 horsepower.
They had to be driving something bigger than an SUV.
The weird thing is the tyre treads I found They were a match to Snakehead 245/55/R18.
That's a brand that's usually used on a sports coupe.
A sports coupe couldn't break through that gate.
Now, I also found traces of black paint on the chain.
So I ran it through GCMS.
I found a variety of pigments and polymers, so you'd think car paint, right? Except, there's no trace of a solvent.
That sounds more like powder coating.
It's commonly used on metal like, uh, push bars.
We're looking for a larger vehicle, any colour, with a black push bar.
- Doesn't narrow it down much.
- No.
The cameras were no help.
They didn't have a clear angle on the gate.
We have evidence for a larger vehicle and a small sports coupe.
The sports coupe could have driven in behind the large vehicle, covering its tracks.
So we're looking for two vehicles.
And possibly two perps.
Hey, what's up? It's Christmas Time in Hollis, Queens.
I'm serious.
The trace under our vic's fingernails is Christmas Time in Hollis, Queens, also known as a blend between marijuana and salvia divinorum.
Salvia divinorum? It's an organic enhancer for marijuana.
It's kinda like a coffee sweetener, but for weed.
So we have a John Doe buried in concrete with hyped-up marijuana under his fingernails.
Tell me we got a hit on his prints.
I ran it through AFlS, I got nada.
And none of the workers at the construction site have been reported missing.
However, I did get a match on the marijuana blend.
I ran it through the interagency spectral library search.
I got a match on a DEA sample from a Sky High T reatment Center in Jersey.
Now, several of the patients consistently bought both marijuana and salvia.
But one fits the description of our John Doe.
Colby Jenkins.
Put this in your pipe and smoke it.
I got an address.
What up? NYPD.
Open the door! Police, open up! All clear.
Nobody's home.
And by the looks of it, we're not the first visitors.
Maybe this is where our perps jumped him.
Jumped who? - Who the hell are you? - Me? Oh, no, I'm sorry.
The guy behind you there.
Yeah, I'm Clean Colby Jenkins.
And this is my humble abode.
I, l, I just stepped out to get some toilet paper.
And, uh, where is the toilet paper? Oh, damn it.
Stay right there, Cheech.
We need to talk to you.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
What are you doing? Don't worry.
I got plenty for you.
Oh, we're not worried.
Put it away.
It's all legal because of my illness.
- What illness? - Brain cancer.
That's what it says on my medical card.
All right, look.
If you're Colby Jenkins, who's that? Because we found your particular meds under his fingernails.
Oh, oh, yeah, well sometimes I go out at night.
I run into people looking to party.
They wanna dip into that prescription.
Hey, buddy.
That man was murdered, OK? If you know who he is, you need to tell us.
- I think I recognise this guy.
- You remember his name? Do you remember the last time you saw him? No, I don't.
But I remember watching TV with him.
I think the Muppet Babies is hilarious.
Muppet Babies? Well, I gotta get my cartoon fix.
But, uh, The Gladiator, he, he wasn't into it.
- The Gladiator.
- Yeah.
That's what they call him.
I think.
The Gladiator.
So what are we talking about here? Something we have to see to believe.
The Gladiator.
Time of death was just over 48 hours ago.
What happened before that makes me curious.
I lifted a bone fragment from our John Doe that doesn't belong to him.
Adam's working to identify it.
Also, although our vic was buried alive, based on a CT scan, there was cerebral hemorrhaging as well, bleeding of the brain.
Most likely a result of the beating he took.
These don't look like the hands of someone used to taking a beating.
More like someone used to giving them out.
There's fresh bruising on the skin, indicating that our vic defended himself.
Also, I found calcium deposits around the fifth metacarpals, indicative of multiple fractures.
Common injury for boxers.
There's something familiar about this gladiator.
There used to be an amateur fighter who entered the ring dressed in armour very similar to our vic.
Joe "The Gladiator" Carthage.
Three-time amateur Fighting Federation champion.
- And you believe this might be him? - I'm not sure.
Last I heard, he retired from boxing.
He definitely wasn't in fighting shape leading up to his death.
Aside from marijuana use, the tox report indicates a high level of alcohol in his system.
Not exactly the breakfast of champions.
So why was he dressed for a fight? Rabbit, you're blessed.
You're blessed with God-given talents.
You just happen to be beating the crap outta people.
Now, use it! Use the jab! Long distance.
One, two.
Don't quit! Keep it up! Come on, Rabbit.
Use 'em, use 'em.
Stay on your toes.
Come on, Rabbit.
- Telly Gines? - Yeah, that's me.
Need to talk to you about Joe Carthage.
Yeah, that's Joe.
I saw him just last week.
I trained him his whole career.
And I was the only family he had.
When we found him, he had drugs and alcohol in his system.
Boxing caused him a lot of pain.
Everybody's got their own medicine.
You should've seen him a few years ago at Madison Square Garden.
I worked the corner for The Gladiator when he fought for an amateur title.
I did see that fight.
One of the bravest fights you'll ever see.
He went the distance and he won.
Joe always fought with all his heart.
And it cost him.
Right after that, he slipped into a coma.
Eventually he came out of it, but they told him he'd never fight again.
Did he mention any plans for a comeback? No way.
Doctor diagnosed him with grade-three brain contusions.
A single blow to his head could have killed him.
Did he have any enemies? No, everybody respected the hell out of him.
Do you know where he lived, where he worked? Well, he lived wherever he could find a bed.
As for where he worked, he was catching shifts as a barkeep at Dirty Drew's Bar.
Personally, uh, I like to remember him like this.
Oh hey, Stell.
We tested the bone fragment that Sid found.
It doesn't belong to our vic.
It's not even human.
- Really? - Yeah.
We're working on it.
Hawkes is processing trace from the armour and here's his medical history.
How does a guy who's not supposed to fight end up in the fight of his life? I can't believe Joe's dead.
Is there anything you can tell me about him? He just did a shift the other night.
His official title might have been bouncer, but really he did a lot of things.
- Take it easy.
- Sorry.
Joe was charming.
He was a good worker.
He was the only one who didn't complain in this place.
He just did his job.
Even when things got dicey.
What do you mean? The other night he got into it with some patrons.
I ain't joking.
Come on, seriously.
Come here.
Hey, beautiful.
Why don't you come take a break? No, thanks.
Can I order you anything else? I thought this bar had good service.
That's a smooth way to get her attention.
- He's just trying to be nice.
- Just leave her alone.
Don't you touch me.
I'll kill you.
- Don't you mess with me! - Yeah! Yeah, son.
I'll drink to that.
For a second, I was actually pissed at him for getting himself involved.
But, I couldn't stay mad at him.
Joe stood up for me, when no one else did.
Alex Contoursi.
You and your brother, Rick, were kicked out of a bar yelling death threats at Joe Carthage.
My brother and I yell a lot of things.
People should mind their own business.
Super Janitor should have stuck to what he does best.
Mopping up beer.
Guy was a wise-ass.
Not wise enough.
His ass is dead.
I know your family resume.
Your grandfather, Marco, is in prison for murder.
You think we're living up to the family name? That a compliment.
Is that why you wanted to kill Joe Carthage? To live up to the family name? Unfortunately, we know nothing about that.
Really? Bar owner says you both waited outside at closing time.
We were in that car.
- A two-door Camaro.
- Yeah, so? So, the tyres on that car are the same brand that left tread marks at Joe's burial site.
Let me tell you what I'm thinking.
After Joe embarrassed you, you decided to teach him a lesson.
- Whoa - You wanna be a gladiator? Tonight you die like one.
The Gladiator? That wasn't us.
You beat him down.
To top it off, you went old school and buried him in the concrete.
You seriously think we did this.
You got it wrong.
My brother and l, we're not what you think we are.
With our last names, we have to carry ourselves a certain way.
But we didn't kill anybody, OK? Especially not a crazy guy in gladiator gear.
You don't wanna do this.
You really don't.
We never made a move, OK? We just wanted a story to tell our friends.
You know, keep our reputation.
This won't be made public record, will it? Hey, Stell.
I know the Contoursi brothers may look the part, but they didn't do this.
I went over their Camaro front and back, found nothing.
Anything more on the tread marks? I compared them to the Contoursi's tyres.
Same brand, different wear patterns.
The marks were made by a different car.
I've seen wise guys.
These clowns, they're wannabes.
No criminal record.
And they're both on the Dean's List at Hofstra.
Well, we need to look at the trace and get a lead on where Joe Carthage went after he left that bar.
What have we got, Doc? Glass shards from our vic's armour.
They're pieces of brainy shades, windows that can be tinted by remote control.
Gives you privacy, saves energy and looks cool.
Brainy shades.
How'd these pieces end up on our vic? Don't know about that.
But, check this out.
I contacted the manufacturer and this technology's not even on the mass market yet.
But there are seven businesses in the city listed as clients.
And one of those businesses dissolved and is now a vacant office space in Midtown.
This is a good location to commit murder.
Hey, Doc.
We got shards missing from this window.
Same size as the pieces of glass from the armour.
Signs of struggle here.
We got blood.
Plenty of it.
Our perps tried to cover their tracks.
There's spackle everywhere.
And there was an audience for it.
Why does an empty office space still have cameras? And they're all pointing in the same area.
Doc, do me a favour and spray as much luminol on this wall as possible.
All right, you ready? There's your answer.
It's covered in blood.
What kind of audience watches this? And who was the main attraction? - You need to see this.
- You won't believe this.
- What I have is weirder.
- Whoa, one at a time here.
Blood samples from the office match our victim.
That office space is our crime scene.
I found blood that could be the killer's.
I found a partial print in the wall spackle that doesn't match our vic.
The fragment that they found inside Joe Carthage is a match to the bone fragment I found in the office wall.
All right, but get this.
It's whale bone.
That is weird.
You win.
Wait, not so fast.
I did a little research.
That circular pattern I found on the wall.
It's a Norse battle crest.
Typical on Viking warrior shields.
Now, whale bone was a common material used in Viking helmets.
Are we saying there was a Viking in the room? More than that.
A Viking killed our gladiator.
It looks insane.
But it's Blood and Guts Brawling.
It's an underground wrestling league where people dress up and then fight each other in unusual locations.
Like Mr Happy-Faced Lumberjack versus The Viking Mauler in a parking garage.
Or a Gladiator versus The Viking Mauler in an office space.
It explains why he was dressed in armour.
And the fresh battle scars.
Yeah, the bloodier, the better.
They get 10 million hits online for these fights.
- So big money and big sponsors.
- Except it's all for show.
They're not supposed to actually try and kill each other.
So our vic is dressed up in his old gladiator armour, Ieaves the bar and goes to an office for some blood and guts brawling.
Carthage knew the risks of getting hit in the head.
It doesn't add up why he'd take the chance by fighting.
It's hard to imagine building security not noticing this.
Adam's checking with the security footage for that night.
He's also tracking the output sources for those cameras.
Because someone saw everything that happened in there.
Surveillance from the entrance to the office didn't show anything unusual.
That means that they entered through the service entrance.
There's no surveillance there.
The cameras from inside the office traced back to an lP address from this location.
The guy's name is Al Branson, the promoter of Blood and Guts Brawling.
Mr Branson, NYPD.
I'm Detective Bonasera.
Detective Flack.
- We want to ask you some questions.
- About what? The murder of Joe Carthage.
I don't know The Viking Mauler.
I never meet most of these fighters.
Don't talk to them on the telephone.
I don't see 'em.
I don't even attend the fights.
- So how do you run this? - Grass roots meets high-tech.
I arrange the location.
Then I Twitter, text or email the time and place.
Fans show up.
The fighters show up.
After that, it's all about streaming video.
- I was here the night of the fight.
- We need to see what you saw.
The fight's on that flash drive.
I was gonna post it online today.
From what I saw, it looked good.
Both fighters were alive at the end.
Unfortunately, that's no longer the case.
We need everything you used to correspond with those fighters.
It's all on my phone.
I'm sorry to hear about Joe.
He wasn't like the others.
What do you mean? He wasn't happy in his situation.
In his case, I barely had to organise anything.
He was just eager to fight.
Al Branson? You're under arrest.
For the organisation of illegal fights.
Oh, come on, man.
This is how I make my living.
Yeah? Find a new line of work.
Let's go.
Argh! Argh! All right.
That's enough.
It was a good fight, man.
It was a good fight.
Yeah! Y eah! Ha ha! Yeah! Al Branson just posted bail.
But his story checks out.
Carthage was alive at the end of this fight.
A cerebral hemorrhage isn't always immediate.
He may have fallen unconscious later.
Killer panicked and dumped his body.
All we need is a positive lD on The Viking Mauler and a DNA match and we might have our killer.
This is Joe's apartment.
Just make sure you lock the door on the way out.
Ladies and gentlemen, a stunning upset, and a win by knockout, your new Amateur Fighting Federation champion, Joe "The Gladiator" Carthage! Our Viking Mauler's name is Erik Overson.
Works a 9 to 5 at an insurance firm.
There's only a few misdemeanours on his record.
No connection to Joe Carthage before the fight.
It fits though.
He does the weekend warrior thing.
Fights our vic.
Thinks he killed him.
Panics by dumping the body.
There's also no connection between Overson and the construction site.
That office space is in Midtown.
Why drag a body to a construction site in Brooklyn to dump it? When I left Joe, he was alive.
Hey, good job tonight.
Should get a lot of hits on the internet.
But I'm just glad to be back.
Right on, man.
See ya.
I didn't kill him.
And I didn't dump his body.
Yet we have evidence that you attacked Joe with blows to the head.
That's felony assault.
How was I supposed to know the guy had brain injuries? You put yourself in a reckless situation.
You knew there were risks.
Not like this.
You know how many times I've hit guys? You know how many times guys have hit me? What was that guy doing there anyway? - Hawkes.
- Hey, Mac.
You said we need a connection to Carthage's burial? We got one.
The trace I found in the concrete is an Amateur Fighting Federation pendant.
Now, they're only given to trainers of amateur boxing champions, and this one has initials inscribed.
Telly Gines.
The reason there's no link between our Viking Mauler and our burial is because he didn't do it.
Mac, Telly Gines buried Joe Carthage.
I'm back for round two.
That's right.
Don't talk.
You're a busy man.
Trainer by day, burying bodies at night? How does that work? I don't know what you're talking about.
Now you're playing games and I'm not in the mood.
Let's try another question.
How well do you know Al Branson? Did you know he recruited Joe to fight? Joe Carthage.
- The Gladiator.
- That's me.
I barely recognised you.
You trained under Telly Gines.
You might have been the greatest fighter I ever saw.
You think about giving it another shot? Honestly? Yeah.
But there's no way.
Oh, right.
Because of the, the brain injuries.
I heard about that.
But there's a lot we don't know about the brain.
You've had a lot of time to heal.
That's where you came in.
How do you convince a guy who can't fight to do just that? You give him a sanctioned and trusted opinion.
But you gotta talk to him.
You know how many sponsors I could draw in? You would get a piece of the action and the opportunities it would bring.
Joe can't take another hit.
What about that don't you understand? You haven't had a decent payday for a long time.
You're about to lose this gym.
What about that don't you understand? We have his phone records.
Branson texted you seven times a few nights ago, right after he showed up at the office.
Why are you still here? It was a good fight, but you have to go so I can clean up.
You hear me? He discovered Joe unconscious from blows to the head.
Probably figuring there was still a chance to save him, he called you.
He's done.
There's nothing we can do.
We're both in this together.
So we both need to clean this up.
So you went with Al, took his body to the site and dumped it in a pit.
You were Joe's family.
You knew his situation and you still exploited it for your own good.
I ain't the one who hit him on the head.
The Viking had no prior knowledge of Joe's health conditions.
There's a defence there for him.
That was an accident.
This was murder.
Like a snake in the grass, you took advantage of Joe's passion for fighting because of your passion for money.
You convinced him he was healthy, and you led him to slaughter.
If you'd seen Joe in that barroom He was a champion, reduced to nothin'.
I gave him his dignity back.
For one brief moment before Joe died at least he lived again.
Except you don't have the authority to make those decisions.
And you're wrong about something.
He fought his heart out.
He fought, to the very end, the way he did in every fight.
He wasn't dead.
You buried him alive.
The brain injury Joe suffered put him in a coma-like state.
Joe was recovering.
Until he drowned in that cement.
And now, for the main event, with an Amateur Fighting Federation record of 2 1 wins and 2 losses, the one, the only, Joe "The Gladiator" Carthage!