"The Man in
the Mud"
Episode 3x11
Written by: Janet Tamaro
Directed by: Scott
Transcribed by: TheElusiveN
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Disclaimer: The characters, plotlines, quotes, etc. included here are owned
by Hart Hanson, all rights reserved. This transcript is not authorized or
endorsed by Hart Hanson or Fox.
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(Teaser)
(An all-terrain vehicle pulls
to a stop in the woods.
TIM: The GPS says it's right up here.
TIM: The hell I don't! (The
GPS device in his hand beeps.) We're here.
(They come upon a bubbling
puddle of thick ooze.)
TIM:
TIM: No, this is like, um...(close up of the bubbling mud) yeah, it's pretty much mud.
TIM: Mmm,
sulfur. Very therapeutic. (TIM starts to strip.)
TIM: A friend of mine told
me about this place and swore me to secrecy. But this is my first time. In mud.
TIM: (from off-screen) Come
on in; it's nice.
TIM: This mud is reputed to
have amazing romantic properties.(They both giggle
and resume making out)
TIM: No, I think I'd notice
if you got it.
(The camera focuses in on the
hot spring, and pulls back to reveal BOOTH's hand
reaching toward the mud.)
BOOTH: Whoa, sheesh! (BOOTH jumps backwards from the mud. A camera pan
reveals that he is with BRENNAN and a PARK RANGER [Christopher May].)
PARK RANGER: This hot spring
averages a temperature of 105 degrees, but it can spike to near boiling, which
is why we discourage bathers. (addressing a chagrined
TIM and
BOOTH: So someone was boiled
to death?
PARK RANGER: Or had a heart
attack or passed out, et cetera et cetera.
BRENNAN: The remaining flesh
will have to be macerated.
PARK RANGER: What's that?
BOOTH: Ugh...don't ask.
BRENNAN: The flesh either has
to be boiled off, or eaten by Dermestid beetles.
BOOTH: Bones, why can't you
just say "cleaned"?
BRENNAN: (indicating several
long bones.) The sulfur encrusted the bones--do you see the staining?
BOOTH: So it's been there a
long time?
BRENNAN: Not necessarily.
BOOTH: So why'd you have to
even bring it up then?
BRENNAN: (lifting the skull,
which is severely pitted) Signs of blunt force trauma.
PARK RANGER: What's that mean?
BOOTH: That means he didn't
pass out and boil to death on his own.
BRENNAN: I'm going to need
all of the mud.
PARK RANGER: Excuse me?
BRENNAN: Get a tanker truck
out here and suck it up so we can filter it back at the Jeffersonian. (Long
shot of the PARK RANGER exchanging a flabbergasted glance with BOOTH, who
shrugs.)
BRENNAN: (squatting, lifts
up the arm) Humerus is thirty-six point five centimeters.
Medium build, late twenties early thirties--he's broken this bone before.
PARK RANGER: Is she serious
about the mud?
BRENNAN: Serious as a gas attack.
BOOTH: Heart attack, Bones.
Serious as a heart attack.
(Medico-Legal Lab. CAM is just
swiping her card to enter the Platform in a tracking shot that brings us over
to the remains.)
ZACK: A triangular depression
in the calvarium, interior longitudinal 1 fracture,
grazed cortical bone and C1; there's a patterned impression in the bone. (As
he's speaking, ZACK indicates each particular instance of trauma on a magnification
camera screen.)
ZACK: More than once, by a
(questioningly) square pipe? Does that exist?
ZACK: Mmmm....
ZACK: There's a vertical impaction
fracture to his glabella and frontonasal suture.
ZACK: It doesn't seem so. .
. . I have seen this before.
ZACK: From sharpened stone
weapons, in Neanderthal skeletons.
ZACK: The blow to the front
of the head would cause a severe laceration.
ZACK: Indicating that the body
was dumped there postmortem.
ZACK: (correcting) Neanderthals.
ZACK: Accepted scenarios indicate
a single individual attacked by two or more assailants.
(End Teaser.)
(Credits.)
(Act One)
(Fade up on the outside of
SWEETS's office building.)
BRENNAN: (v.o.)
We're not sure about time of death yet.
BOOTH: (v.o.)It was definitely a murder.
(Now in SWEETS's
office; the Plinky Piano of Zany Hijinks
arises in the background. SWEETS, for the record, could not look more bored,
and is constantly shifting positions so as not to fall asleep.)
BRENNAN: Definitely. Probably by two assailants.
BOOTH: What a shock for that
couple, huh? (gesturing) You know, they slide naked,
into the hot mud bath...and a skeleton hand pokes her in the
BRENNAN: (finishing) Anus.
BOOTH: (shocked) Bones!
BRENNAN: What? It's a clinical
term for that part of the body, Booth. (SWEETS is now either sporting a hilarious,
wide-eyed shock face, or trying so hard to keep his eyes open that they've
bugged out of his face.)
SWEETS: Dr. Brennan, Agent
Booth...would it be fair to say that you use work to avoid confronting personal
issues?
BOOTH: Oh, what, because I
don't want to talk about...
BRENNAN: The anus.
BOOTH: You really like that
word, don't you?
SWEETS: Do you two ever discuss
anything that's not attached to work?
BOOTH: Well, it's better than
talking about, y'know...
SWEETS: The anus?
BOOTH: What is it with you
two?
BRENNAN: Well, Sweets could
be right; I mean, we talk a lot about work.
BOOTH: I talk about my kid.
SWEETS: Because he was almost
kidnapped during a case.
BRENNAN: (raising a single
finger) Ah, my father. We talk a lot about him.
SWEETS: Because Agent Booth
arrested him for murder.
BOOTH: Mm...okay,
what are you trying to get at here?
SWEETS: Your inability to share
your personal lives. I thought that was obvious.
BOOTH: Okay, that was snotty.
(snottily) I don't respond well to snotty.
BRENNAN: (laying a hand on
BOOTH's arm) After a case, sometimes,
we have a drink, or coffee, Booth has pie. I don't...like pie.
BOOTH: Aw...you really should
just give it a chance.
BRENNAN: I find it too sweet.
BOOTH: Okay, there. We talked
about pie. Nothin' to do with work.
BRENNAN: It...is better when we discuss murder.
SWEETS: I'd like to see you
guys in a social situation. A situation where work is a
taboo subject.
BOOTH: What, are you gonna send us to a restaurant and watch us through a one-way
mirror?
BRENNAN: I'm still not having
pie.
SWEETS: No, an evening out
with my girlfriend and me.
BOOTH: (laughs, then, to BRENNAN) They need someone to buy them beer.
BRENNAN: You want us to go
on a double date?
BOOTH: Why don't you go on
the internet like all the rest of the kids?
SWEETS: Okay, if it goes well,
I'll withdraw my concern. I'll release you back into your environment.
BOOTH: What are we, brook trout?
BRENNAN: (pouts briefly, then)
Fine.
BOOTH: (Sighs heavily and plays
with the stress-sumo-wrestler.)
SWEETS: Agent Booth? (BOOTH
looks away.) Unless, you think that's too much to prove.
BOOTH: (pulls a face, then)
Fine. I'll show 'em I have nothing to prove. Bring
it on, Sweets.
(He flings the stress sumo wrestler at SWEETS, who catches it one-handed and
gives it a squeeze.)
(Medico-Legal
Lab; Jeffersonian.
HODGINS is running the mud from the hot-spring through some sort of strainer;
ZACK is examining something small.)
HODGINS: Ugh...(Pulls a greenish
aluminum can from the strainer) So far I have three old beer cans, an Indian
Arrowhead, (he lifts a coin out of the strainer and casually tosses it on
the table; in the background you can hear CAM swiping her card to enter the
platform) seventy-three cents in change, and a partially-melted Sharpie.
ZACK: (crosses to a bank of
x-rays) I found stress fractures and degenerative changes in the fascid joints.
HODGINS: Death by yoga?
ANGELA: (enters) Is that skull ready for me yet?
ZACK: It should be ready, you can take it out of the boiler any time.
ANGELA: Or, you could do that
for me, because I will never, ever do that.
ZACK: (indicating the injuries
on a bank of x-rays.) There are fractures of the pelvis, compression fractures
of thoracic and lumbar vertebrae, multiple metacarpal and metatarsal fractures...
ANGELA: What was he, crash
test dummy?
ZACK: The injuries to the vertebrae,
tibia, femur are consistent with landing on the feet
after falling from ten to twenty feet.
HODGINS: What, like jumping
out of a tree?
ZACK: The damage to the scapula
and the acromion resulted from a low fall but forward
movement from between sixteen to twenty miles per hour.
ANGELA: Falling off a bicycle.
ZACK: These injuries are more
recent. Fractured and scored patella, and torn retinaculum.
HODGINS: Okay, even I didn't
get that one.
(CUT to the exterior of the
FBI building.)
BRENNAN: (v.o.)
Yes. Okay, Dr. Sweets, yeah, I'll ask him.(Now in
the elevator, we see BRENNAN covers her phone) How's Wednesday night, are
you free?
BOOTH: oh, what, to have our
big double date with our psychiatrist?
BRENNAN: Just one more evening,
and maybe we won't have to see him anymore.
BOOTH: Fine. Wednesday's FINE,
I can't wait, does he want me to get you a corsage?
BRENNAN: (into the phone) Wednesday's
fine. We'll meet you there. Yeah, I'm looking forward to meeting her.
BOOTH: (scowls as he pushes
open the doors of his office)
BRENNAN: Okay. Bye. (hangs up with a beep.) This might be fun. His girlfriend works
with tropical fish.
BOOTH: (skeptically) Tropical.
Fish.
BRENNAN: Yeah.
BOOTH: This is just weird.
Where are we meeting?
BRENNAN: At their ceramics
class.
BOOTH: What? No, you're kidding.
BRENNAN: Why would I be kidding?
He said it would be a good idea to have a common activity.
BOOTH: Ceramics? I thought
the whole point of therapy was to give us peace of mind, not drive us crazy.
(BOOTH's computer starts beeping; we inset to a video chat
invitation on BOOTH's monitor, which reads "JEFFERSONIAN/ANGELA")
Hey, it's Angela. (BOOTH clicks his mouse, and answers her video chat invitation.)
Hey, Angela.
ANGELA: Hey! I did a rendering
of our victim's face. We're checking him against any reports of missing persons.
BOOTH: Wait a second, that's
Tripp Goddard.
ANGELA: Tripp Goddard?
BOOTH: He's a motorcycle racer.
BRENNAN: (looks nonplussed)
BOOTH: Oh, I forget sometimes
that I'm talking to girls.
BRENNAN: That would explain
the wrist and neck injuries on Zack's report. Have him confirm with dentals.
ANGELA: Yeah, (CUT to ANGELA
in the holographics suite at the Jeffersonian) I
don't appreciate the "girls" comment.
(CUT BACK to BOOTH and BRENNAN
in BOOTH's office.)
BOOTH: Uh...Tripp won a huge
motorcycle race about two weeks ago.
BRENNAN: That fits time of
death.
(CUT to ANGELA in the Holographics Suite at the Jeffersonian)
ANGELA: That would've been
the Super Grand Prix, out in
(ANGELA terminates the connection,
and we see an inset screen with the Jeffersonian logo and the text "Video
Conference Connection Terminated.")
(Slam Bolt Racing, Exterior
shot of motorcycles in bright blues and yellows rounding a curve to the sound
of vehicle exhaust. Racing journalist GARTH JODREY [Chris William Martin]
begins a voiceover as the racers cross a finish line and the checkered flags
are waved.)
GARTH: It's not about the machine,
it's about the man. (We cut to an interior shot at Slam Bolt Racing as he
continues speaking.) I mean, sure you need a great bike, but a great rider
on a crap bike? Still going to win. (We see that
GARTH, who uses a wheelchair, has been conversing with an attractive brunette
in a leather jacket, PHILIPPA FITZ [Abigail Spencer].)
PHILIPPA: Riders say it's about
the rider, mechanics say it's the machine, you know what I say? It's about
whoever signs the paychecks.
GARTH: (as BRENNAN and BOOTH
come around a mechanic's station into the background of the shot) Ah, yes,
and that would be you.
PHILIPPA: (teasingly) Yes, it would; don't forget it.
BOOTH: Excuse me. (flashes his badge) FBI Special Agent Booth, this here is Dr.
Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian. We're looking for someone who might
be able to tell us a little bit about Tripp Goddard.
PHILIPPA: Well, I'm Philippa Fitz, and Tripp rides for
our family team, Slam Bolt.
GARTH: What did Tripp do?
BOOTH: Who are you?
GARTH: Garth Jodrey, I'm a journalist. (Opens his leather jacket to show
a logo on his t-shirt) Motokneescrapers.com.
BRENNAN: What does that mean?
BOOTH: Racers, when they--they
lean real low on the corners, their-their knees, they scrape the asphalt.
BRENNAN: That would explain
his knee injuries.
PHILIPPA: No one has seen Tripp
since after the Super Grand Prix.
BRENNAN: Well, where did he
go?
PHILIPPA: After a big win,
he usually takes off in his truck and climbs mountains, swims oceans, no one
really knows for sure. Can I help you?
BOOTH: Mr. Goddard's dead.
GARTH: What? What happened?
BRENNAN: We believe he was
murdered.
(CUT to a conversation with
LENNY FITZ [Wings Hauser], PHILIPPA's father.)
LENNY: Who would kill Tripp?
I don't know.
GARTH: (as he crosses the room.)
Well, the fans loved him. Everybody else hated him.
LENNY: Get lost, Garth.
PHILIPPA: Daddy, please.
LENNY: No. I want him out of
here, Philippa.
(GARTH looks up at PHILIPPA
for a tense moment. She finally jerks her head, indicating that he should
leave. He departs.)
BOOTH: Garth doesn't seem to
think that Tripp was the good old boy that you do.
LENNY: His got his reasons.
PHILIPPA: The wheelchair, for
one.
BOOTH: Tripp put him in that
wheelchair?
LENNY: It was an accident.
During a race, a couple years ago.
PHILIPPA: You can't honestly
believe that Garth had anything to do with this. I mean, how? He's in a wheelchair.
BRENNAN: With help, obviously.
BOOTH: When was the last time
you saw Tripp?
PHILIPPA: The victory party,
after the race.
LENNY: I saw him get him his
truck and leave, about
BOOTH: Great, I'm going to
need to know the make, model, the year, license plate of the truck.
LENNY: Anything you need, we're
here. Just find the bastard who did this to him.
(End Act
One.)
(Begin Act Two. "Skinny
Penny" by the Stereotypes plays as footage of the Super Grand Prix rolls.
#66, DANNY FITZ [Channon Roe] is in the lead, with
#1, TRIPP GODDARD [John Edward Lee] hot on his trail. The footage cuts to
a crowd shot, and back to footage of DANNY followed closely by TRIPP. More
crowd shots, then it is revealed that BOOTH, BRENNAN,
and GARTH are watching this footage on an LCD screen in the FBI Conference
room. When we cut back to the LCD screen, the leader-board on the footage
shows that TRIPP is in the lead, followed by D.J. COPPS. TRIPP crosses the
finish line, and we cut to TRIPP holding the trophy, surrounded by pit crew,
laughing triumphantly. DANNY tries to approach TRIPP, but is held back by
pit crew.)
GARTH: (v.o.)
Okay, that's Danny Fitz. (On the screen, DANNY breaks
free of his pit crew and grabs TRIPP by the front of his racing jacket. The
footage pauses, but judging by their facial expressions, there is clearly
an ugly altercation in the making.) I tell ya, I
would've loved to have decked Tripp like that after our race, only I was in
a coma for a few days.
BRENNAN: Another Fitz?
GARTH: Lenny's son, Philippa's twin brother... Alright, watch this. (GARTH uses
a remote to manipulate the footage.) Danny's got the race in the bag. Final
lap, Tripp does that. (On the tape in extreme close-up, we see TRIPP's front wheel bump DANNY's
back wheel; we pull back to find that DANNY has wiped out.) Classic inside-out
block pass.
BRENNAN: Is he allowed to do
that?
BOOTH: Only if it's an accident.
GARTH: Slam Bolt would've taken
first and second against Flame Spark if Tripp hadn't of clipped Danny.
BRENNAN: (laughs) There's someone named Flame Spark?
BOOTH: Yeah; Flame Spark Spark Plugs. It's Slam Bolt's rival team.
TRIPP: (on the tape) I saw
a little daylight. Looked like Danny was gonna go
wide, so I went for it. I mean, it is a bummer when somebody loses the front
of their bike like that, but, um...(TRIPP shrugs)
Whaddaya gonna do?
GARTH: Danny had that race
in the bag.
BOOTH: Tripp did the same thing
to you, didn't he?
GARTH: (a beat) Yeah. Well,
I guess Tripp didn't learn anything from the time he did it to me.
BOOTH: Danny Fitz, was he at the victory party?
GARTH: Yeah, absolutely. Put
on a face for the press.
BRENNAN: Did Danny leave before,
or after Tripp?
GARTH: About the same time.
BOOTH: How about you?
GARTH: I took off right after.(On the videotape, TRIPP and DANNY are engaged in a shoving
match.)
BOOTH: You're good friends
with Danny, aren't you?
GARTH: You mean, are we good
enough friends to kill Tripp together? You know, I'm pretty sure I don't have
to say anything without a lawyer. (BRENNAN
and BOOTH exchange a look.)
(MEDICO-LEGAL
LAB; the JEFFERSONIAN. A metal bar falls on the floor between two feet, which we see are
ZACK's, as ZACK is carrying in an armload of potential
murder weapons. ZACK bends down to pick up the bar. HODGINS looks over at
him before going back to examining the now extremely clean skull. As ZACK
finally corrals the first bar he dropped, he loses control of another bar.)
HODGINS: (testily.) It's not
going to work...
ZACK: What?
HODGINS: Dropping loud pieces
of metal to hurry me up.
ZACK: I need the skull so I
can compare tool marks to potential murder weapons.
HODGINS: Just going to have
to wait.
ZACK: (frowns and walks further
into the room.)
HODGINS: (zooms in to an extreme
close-up of the skull's surface on a monitor. A computer program isolates
particulates on the screen.) Titanium, magnesium, and heat-treated boron particulates
are embedded in the skull fractures.
ZACK: Mmmmm....
HODGINS: What?
ZACK: That's a unique and exotic
combination of metals not found in any of these...(A bunch of the aforementioned
"these" go sliding out of ZACK's arms,
and he bends down to collect them.)
HODGINS: It is possible that
these particulates aren't from the tool, I mean, not from the tool alone.
ZACK: I don't understand.
HODGINS: Hand-made racing motorcycles
are made from these metals.
ZACK: So the particles could've
gone from the bicycles to the tools to the victim.
HODGINS: It's-it's not a bicycle.
It's a motorcycle.
ZACK: (irritably) Bi-cycle.
Two wheels. The term applies. (He drops another group of the
metal bars, and bends down to collect them.)
HODGINS: Drop those. (off his look.) Drop them. I mean it Zack, bombs away. (ZACK
drops all the weapons to the floor.)
ZACK: I don't know what that
proves.
HODGINS: It means I don't handle
irritation as well as I'd like.
ZACK: Can I pick these up now?
HODGINS: (forcefully) No.
(ZACK looks at him quizzically, and HODGINS crosses the room towards him.)
You can pick one up. Most likely culprit.
ZACK: A narrow instrument,
no more than an inch, caused the injuries.
HODGINS: Okay...(HODGINS bends down and proceeds to pick up more than one
bar.)
ZACK: Strain, the crushing,
tearing, shearing, equals a change in dimension divided by the original dimension.
HODGINS: I do bugs and slime;
I don't do arithmetic.
ZACK: An elongated rod, with
(he selects a shiny, square-shaped pipe from the group HODGINS has selected)
this cross-section, is the most likely culprit.
HODGINS: Good. Good job, Zack.
ZACK: (confused) Am I...King of the Lab?
HODGINS: We both are. (HODGINS
drops the remaining crowbars.) Let's go tell
(FBI Conference
room. BOOTH is
replaying the footage of DANNY FITZ wiping out over and over again and giggling.
A slow pan reveals an unamused DANNY.)
BOOTH: Ooohhhh....ouch....Okay,
now that, that's gotta hurt. Wait, here it comes
again, I mean, look at that. Whoa...watch it, watch out, watch
out, whoa! (BOOTH jumps backwards to reveal the unamused
face of DANNY's lawyer, BRAXTON SMALLS [M.C. Gainey])
SMALLS: Let the record show
that Agent Booth is taunting my client by repeatedly showing
footage of his traumatic accident.
DANNY: Don't say accident,
man; Tripp did that to me on purpose.
BRENNAN: How fast were you
going at the time of your incident?
DANNY: I don't know, exactly.
I was accelerating through 160.
BOOTH: Tripp was accelerating
faster; see there? (BOOTH punches a button on the remote. The footage replays
on the screen.) Whoosh.
SMALLS: Again with taunting.
BRENNAN: Why was Tripp so much
better than you?
SMALLS: Taunting?
BRENNAN: No, I'm not taunting,
Mr. Smalls, I'm restating an objective fact.
DANNY: Tripp had a better bike!
He had maybe twenty horses on me.
BOOTH: So you get Tripp's bike
now, right, Mr. Fitz?
DANNY: I didn't kill Tripp
for his motorcycle.
BOOTH: Why did you kill him?
SMALLS: Whoa, full stop there,
cowboy.
BOOTH: Alright, don't sweat
it there, princess. Alright, any other reason why you'd want to get rid of
Tripp?
DANNY: No.
SMALLS: Danny, certain things
you hide make you look guilty.
DANNY: Couple years back, Tripp
was going out with my sister. Cheated on her with a groupie.
SMALLS: Came to blows.
BRENNAN: Who won?
DANNY: I did, for once. Knocked
him on his ass!
BOOTH: And you defended her
honor.
SMALLS: Danny and Philippa are twins, Agent Booth. They're very close.
BOOTH: He cheated on your sister,
forced you to crash...How'd you exactly describe
your relationship with Tripp?
DANNY: (snidely) We were the best of friends.
SMALLS: As your lawyer, I must
caution you that sarcasm doesn't show up on the transcript. Best
to avoid it.
DANNY: Look, I'm sorry Tripp's
dead, but I'm not exactly grievin', you feel me?
BOOTH: Bones, he's not afraid
of me at all.
BRENNAN: It's hard to scare
someone who rides around a track at 200 miles an hour.
DANNY: Now her, I like. (to BRENNAN) D'you wanna go out sometime? (BRENNAN looks
surprised.)
SMALLS: Restrain yourself.
BOOTH: Nah, she doesn't wanna go out with you.
BRENNAN: Let me speak for myself!
BOOTH: Murder suspect, here,
Bones. (Cut to a hilariously lecherous facial expression of DANNY's.
BRENNAN looks skeptical.)
(Medico-Legal
Lab; Jeffersonian.
The Original Recipe Squint Squad +
ZACK: Back.
ANGELA: Could it be both?
ZACK: No.
ZACK: Sharper than round, but
blunter than sharp.
ANGELA: What?
ANGELA: You two have been spending
way too much time together.
HODGINS: Can you estimate the
amount of force?
ZACK: In the back of the head,
length undetermined. A width of 3.8 centimeters; approximately
a thousand pounds of force.
ANGELA: So a lot.
HODGINS: (like it's no big
deal) Half a ton.
ANGELA: Which
is a lot.
ZACK: That actually isn't very
much.
ANGELA: All right; now I'm
back in a physics class I want to ditch.
HODGINS: A boxer's fist can
land with double that force.
HODGINS: Yeah, with the force
spread out over a hell of a lot more than 3.8 centimeters.
ZACK: Correct. It wouldn't
take all that much force to crush a skull with this.
HODGINS: (opens his mouth to
speak, then closes it and points at ZACK, who stares back at him.) I'm gonna go back and look at very small things under my very
large microscope. (HODGINS leaves.
ZACK: I can probably identify
the type of tool off this cross section.
ANGELA: (conspiratorially,
to
(Medico-Legal
Lab; HODGINS and ZACK's workstations.)
HODGINS: (on the phone to BOOTH)
I don't have the weapon, but, I microwaved the fabric
samples and used gas sensors to analyze
(Slam Bolt Racing; BOOTH and
BRENNAN are standing by a yellow and white motorcycle.)
BOOTH: (cutting HODGINS off
mid-sentence.) Alright, alright; just--let's just cut to the chase, there,
okay, Mr. Wizard?
(Medico-Legal Lab)
HODGINS: (shrugs) I have identified
what was on the victim's clothing.
(Slam Bolt Racing)
BOOTH: Fine. I'll take anything
at this moment.
BRENNAN: What is it?
HODGINS: (through BOOTH's Blackberry) It's toluene.
It's a clear liquid used to clean up oil.
BOOTH: (agitatedly.) How is
that supposed to help us? Every mechanic in the world uses that stuff. (BRENNAN,
with a pensive expression on her face, examines a rack against a wall.) I
need a weapon; do you hear me? A weapon.
(Medico-Legal
Lab; Jeffersonian.)
HODGINS: You know, I'm feeling
really underappreciated today.
BOOTH: Alright, well, you know
what?--
(Slam Bolt Racing)
BOOTH: (continued) You can suck it up, buttercup.
BRENNAN: Booth?
BOOTH: Yah?
BRENNAN: (opens the door on
a yellow rack of conveniently-labeled chemicals; the foremost container is
labeled "Toluene" in larger lettering than any of the other bottles.
BRENNAN points at it.) Toluene.
HODGINS: (over BOOTH's Blackberry.) It's also excellent for cleaning up blood.
BRENNAN: So, if you killed
someone here, and they bled a lot...
BOOTH: (looks over at a drain
in the middle of the floor.) The drain...(to an FBI
Forensics Technician [Burnadean Jones])Hey, check
this drain for blood.
(Medico-Legal Lab)
HODGINS: Blood suspended in
toluene might be testable for DNA.
BRENNAN: (sotto voce) Tell
Hodgins he did a good job.
BOOTH: Tell Hodgins he did a good job, if...(He
trails off when he sees blood spatter leading towards the drain by the blue
glow of the FBI technician's ALS.)
HODGINS: (over BOOTH's Blackberry) I'm waiting.
(End Act Two.)
(Begin Act Three. BOOTH and
BRENNAN are in Dr. SWEETS's office. The bass xylophone
and heavy brass sounds of Work-related hijinks are
on the soundtrack. BOOTH looks less than happy to be visiting Dr. SWEETS.
BRENNAN starts to say something, then doesn't. The awkward silence continues.
Finally BOOTH breaks it.)
BOOTH: I hate when you do this.
SWEETS: Do what?
BOOTH: You don't talk.
SWEETS: Sometimes you hate
when I talk, so it's a double-edged sword.
BOOTH: Bones doesn't mind sitting
in silence, do ya?
BRENNAN: (answering in the
negative) Mm-mmm.
BOOTH: I hate it.
SWEETS: Why do you think that
is?
BRENNAN: He gets bored.
BOOTH: You're right, I do,
I get bored.
BRENNAN: You should see him
on stakeouts; he talks and talks and ---(BOOTH stares
at her) Well, it's very interesting!
SWEETS: Is it always about
work?
BRENNAN: Mmm...no.
SWEETS: (cocks his head.) You're
lying!
BOOTH: Aw, c'mon. How do you
know that?
SWEETS: I have special training
in how to tell when people are lying.
BRENNAN: Is that true?
SWEETS: See, if you were me,
you'd know.
BOOTH: (stares.)
SWEETS: You're lying to protect
your partner. I understand that. But let's agree amongst ourselves, that this
is a truth zone. (BOOTH groans and pinches the bridge of his nose.) Is something
bothering you?
BOOTH: It's this whole...going
on a date thing.
BRENNAN and SWEETS in stereo:
No, it's not a date!
SWEETS: (continuing) It's a social outing for the purpose of professional evaluation.
BOOTH: Come on; ceramics? I'm
not that kind of a guy, alright? Whaddaya say we
go, y'know, bowling, or to a firing range, or climbing a wall?
SWEETS: Oh, right. Something
you're good at.
BOOTH: A movie! Or dinner. Dinner and a movie. Somewhere that I don't have to make something.
BRENNAN: (exhales) Oooohhh...
BOOTH: What? What oooh?
BRENNAN: Well, what Sweets
would do in this situation is he'd jump on word usage. He's going to ask you
why you're resistant to making.
SWEETS: (indignantly) I JUMP
on the semantics? (shakes his head) That's a really
aggressive turn of phrase.
BOOTH: Ha. Thanks for pulling
focus, there, Bones. (SWEETS starts to shake his
head.) Pulling. Is that an aggressive word too?
SWEETS: Okay, what, did you
two plan this?
BOOTH: It's paranoia! That
is paranoia.
BRENNAN: Since this is a truth
zone, I will tell you the truth. We didn't plan anything. (SWEETS examines her shrewdly and she meets his eyes.)
SWEETS: You're telling the
truth.
BOOTH: He's guessing, Bones.
SWEETS: (giddy, like a little
kid.) We're going to a ceramics class, and we're all going to MAKE something.
Time's up.
(Melville Practice Track at
Slam Bolt Racing. Motorcycle #38 is rounding a corner as "Get it Right"
by Mink plays on the soundtrack. #38, #42, and #1 are all on the track.)
BOOTH: (v.o.)
Look, Sweets can't really tell if someone's lying. (Cut to BRENNAN and BOOTH
walking along a side track.) I'm telling you, he's playing with our
minds.
BRENNAN: There's an area of
study called neurolinguistics which proposes that
subconscious eye movements and body language tell a well-trained observer
if the subject is lying.
BOOTH: Well, I don't believe
it. (As they round the corner of a trailer, one can see GARTH JODREY in blurred
focus in the foreground.) Ha. I don't believe it. (DANNY is standing by GARTH
and LENNY next to the #1 bike.)
BRENNAN: Is that Tripp's bike?
BOOTH: Hyeah;
looks like Danny's gonna finally get what he wants,
huh?
LENNY: Do me a favor, son.
Take it easy, a couple times around, before you blast off, okay?
DANNY: I know, Dad. Ease into it.
GARTH: Hey, can I get a picture?
BOOTH: Yeah, let's get a picture.
Look at that. # 1 of the Slam Bolt racing team. You
gotta feel good about that.
DANNY: I'm not talkin' to you without my lawyer present. (DANNY dons his
motorcycle helmet.)
LENNY: That goes for all of
us. (to DANNY) Look, you, I can replace. Do NOT wreck
my bike. (DANNY revs the engine and pops a low wheelie before taking off around
the track with a screech.)
GARTH: Y'know,
Lenny, I'm thinkin' your boy isn't gonna relax into this.
LENNY: Well, Danny gets a chance
to grab the brass ring, he's gonna take it.(DANNY revs the engine into the curve.)
BOOTH: Okay, watch this, Bones,
he's gonna decelerate right before the turn and
just slingshot right through it.
BRENNAN: I don't see the deceleration
part. (Something is clearly wrong with DANNY; the bike begins to shake and
then to bank heavily right, then heavily left.)
LENNY: No, no, no! (DANNY's last bank turns into a wipeout in a shower of sparks
as he scrapes across the track. He's thrown free of the bike; however, it
explodes in a ball of flame that engulfs him. GARTH, ever the photojournalist,
continues snapping pictures as BRENNAN and BOOTH run towards DANNY. LENNY
merely stares catatonically.)
SAFETY CREWMEMBER: He's down!
Come on, let's get in there.
PHILIPPA: (was watching from
her car; she sprints to where DANNY is on the track) No! NOOO!!! No! No! (LENNY
sinks to his knees as PHILIPPA grabs him by the arm. DANNY and the BIKE have
now become separate fireballs as the Plinky Piano
of Loss plays on the soundtrack and two fire-extinguisher bearing members
of the Slam Bolt safety crew come running up.)
PHILIPPA:Not Danny. (In the corner of the shot, GARTH appears to be classily
photographing PHILIPPA and LENNY's reaction.)
BRENNAN: (on her cellphone) Yes, we're at the Melville
practice track on Highway 64. Send an air ambulance now; there's been a motorcycle
accident.
(End Act Three.)
(Begin Act Four; interior shot
at the Slam Bolt Garage. An FBI forensics team is photographing the charred
remains of the bike; to the left of the shot, FBI Motor Tech OPAL WARNEKE
[Darlena Tejeiro] is feeding data
into a computer.The Sad Piano of Loss is still playing
on the soundtrack. PHILIPPA walks through the garage.)
BRENNAN: (to PHILIPPA) Where's your father?
PHILIPPA: He's at the house.
He's already had two heart attacks; he doesn't need to be here for this.
OPAL: Seems like a crime to
mess up such a sweet bike, huh?
BOOTH: Yeah, a crime, like
murder.
OPAL: (backtracking) Right.
I..I just meant the bike itself, it's...
BOOTH: No, I get it. You like
bikes.
OPAL: (pointing to a part she
has in her hand.) These rotors are laser cut and honed. Very
exact. Bend one just a little, and when this baby gets to speed the
rotor hits a brake pad. Separates a little farther,
and the next thing you know...
BRENNAN: Yes. We saw.
BOOTH: So it couldn't have
been an accident...
OPAL: You mean oops, I accidentally
stuck a piece of metal through this little tiny hole and pushed it with all
my might?
BRENNAN: So anyone could have
done this?
OPAL: Anyone who's familiar
with motorcycles. And was a killer.
PHILIPPA: Why would anyone
want to kill Danny?
BRENNAN: (takes PHILIPPA by
the shoulder and walks her away.) You can't be near the evidence. I'm sorry.
BOOTH: (to OPAL) See what else
you can find, will ya?
OPAL: (nods.)
(Medico-Legal
Lab; Jeffersonian.
HODGINS is adding a few drops of the reagent Eugenol
to the tip of a cotton swab.)
HODGINS: Recovering ink traces
on plastic and polymers is problematic, so, I am using a new technique. A
little of the reagent Eugenol, and (He holds the
plastic piece [the melted Sharpie from the sifting-the-mud scene] under a
blue light, revealing the letters "EE S APERS DO CO") Voila. E-eh say-pers doh
coh.
ZACK: Does that mean anything
to you?
HODGINS: Korean restaurant?
ZACK: Unlikely. There are obviously
missing letters. We need to place the consonants most likely to appear with
this configuration of vowels. And vowels to consonants.
HODGINS: That is an enormous
amount of variables, Zack.
ZACK: Shh...Lee
Snappers Doll Company.
HODGINS: Don't think so.
ZACK: Free Newspapers Dot Com.
Keen Snappers Don't Come.
HODGINS: Definitely not.
ZACK: Knee Scrapers Dot Com.
HODGINS: Oh my God. That's
it. Motokneescrapers.com . How'd you do that?
ZACK: Process of elimination?
You realize I have no idea what it means.
HODGINS: It's the website run
by the journalist that Tripp put in a wheelchair.
ZACK: So this man's pen was
found on the murder victim.
HODGINS: Or, it fell in the
mud when the body was dumped.
(Exterior shot of the Capitol,
for no apparent reason. When we fade up, BRENNAN is in Ceramics Class with
BOOTH, SWEETS, and his girlfriend, APRIL PRESA [Senta
Moses], smiling as the pot she is throwing begins to take shape.)
BRENNAN: I'm enjoying this.
The last time I threw pots I was in
BOOTH: (griping) Last time
I did something like this, I was in nursery school.
APRIL: (laughs) Well, we love
it. Don't we, Lance?
SWEETS: (smiles, forcedly)
Yes.
BOOTH: Well, I love my work,
but I'm not going to talk about that right now, even though we think a paraplegic
killed Tripp Goddard.
APRIL: That sounds fascinating.
SWEETS: April?
APRIL: Oopsie!
(forced giggle.)
BRENNAN: (changing the subject)
Dr. Sweets says that you work with tropical fish.
APRIL: Yes, I love fish. They're
just like people.
BRENNAN: No, no they're not,
actually. People can't breathe underwater.
APRIL: (starts laughing.) She's
funny.
BOOTH: (snickers along.)
BRENNAN: I am? What? Why is
that funny?
BOOTH: I don't think she meant
that literally, Bones.
BRENNAN: Oh.
APRIL: It's their eyes. You
can tell so much from eyes.
BRENNAN: The retinal scan is
as specific as a fingerprint.
APRIL: No, no. Their souls. You can see their little souls.
BRENNAN: I don't understand.
You believe that fish have souls?
APRIL: Yes. You can see it
in their coloring; it's a reflection of who they are.
BRENNAN: (still confused.)
Their coloring has developed over millennia as a way to deal with predators.
SWEETS: (To BRENNAN and BOOTH)
April just means they're beautiful.
APRIL: Don't tell me what I
mean, Lance. I mean they have souls.
SWEETS: Ah, okay.
BOOTH: Hey, look what I'm makin'! (BOOTH proudly spreads his hands to reveal that, where
APRIL, SWEETS, and BRENNAN have been using pottery wheels to throw similar
thin-walled pots, he has constructed the beginnings of what looks to be a
well-detailed carousel horse.)
BRENNAN: You've done this before.
BOOTH: (modestly) Nah...
BRENNAN: You have.
BOOTH: You really think that's
good?
BRENNAN: Yes, very.
SWEETS: Yours is good too,
April.
APRIL: I'm not talking to you.
SWEETS: (snickers nervously)
APRIL: You think that's funny.
BRENNAN: (stage whispers to
BOOTH) Are they fighting?
BOOTH: Just focus on your pot
there.
SWEETS: I'm with patients,
April.
BOOTH: Nope, no patients tonight.
Just us people makin' pots.
APRIL: You can't apologize
for me, Lance.
SWEETS: Can we please just
move on?
APRIL: No. It just-- I meant
that, I believe that all creatures, people, fish, dogs, we're all connected.
We all share the same stuff that makes life so beautiful and precious.
BRENNAN: On a quantum level,
that's true, although the word stuff is not accurate.
APRIL: (smiles gratefully at
BRENNAN, then, snidely, to SWEETS) See? (she slams
a towel down on the table.)
SWEETS: What? I have great
respect for your fish. Admittedly, I might relate to other things more.
APRIL: He kills about a thousand
people a night.
SWEETS: Yeah, in a video game,
April. They're not real.
BOOTH: Hey, Sweets, your thing
there's droopy. (SWEETS's tall pot is starting to
collapse like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.)
SWEETS: (looks upset, then sighs.)
BOOTH: Look at my horse!
APRIL: Wow.
SWEETS: That's amazing, Agent
Booth.
BOOTH: (makes horse-like noises
as he moves the horse up and down as though it's galloping.)
BRENNAN: Very impressive.
BOOTH: Yes, it is. (BOOTH picks
a stray piece of clay off the back of the horse and goes to flick it away;
it strikes BRENNAN in a fairly personal region and she gasps.) Bones,
I'm sorry. (BRENNAN slings back a lump of clay.) Ooh! Jeez! (BOOTH throws
back a lump, and it destroys the top part of BRENNAN's
pot. BRENNAN pouts.) Hey, Sweets, I apologize. (BOOTH begins breaking off
more pieces of clay to sling at BRENNAN) This whole ceramics thing is GREAT!
(SWEETS gets a big smile on his face.)
SWEETS: (As BOOTH and BRENNAN
continue to laugh, SWEETS breaks off a piece of clay and lightly tosses it
at APRIL. She, in turn, grabs a handful of slip [clay with a liquid consistency]
and slings it in SWEETS's face, even getting some
on his teeth. It's very ugly. SWEETS tries to play
it off with a nonchalant laugh.) Yeah, this is fun. (When BRENNAN has figured
out what just happened and you're still trying to play it off, you're in trouble,
dude.)
(Random exterior nighttime
shot of the
(BOOTH's car; daytime.)
BOOTH: I tell you one thing,
Sweets didn't get any last night.
BRENNAN: They're too young
to be in a serious relationship. In agrarian societies, young couplings made
sense; the partnership was for survival, but today...
BOOTH: You know, you can play
the field and not plow it.
BRENNAN: That was distasteful.
BOOTH: What?
BRENNAN: I like April, though.
BOOTH: She talks to fish, okay?
I'm with Sweets on this one.
BRENNAN: (gives BOOTH a look.
BRENNAN's phone rings as BOOTH comes to the not-at-all inaccurate
conclusion that his comment might've pushed the
boundaries of decency. She answers the phone.)
(Medico-Legal
Lab; Jeffersonian.
Room with all the drawers.)
ZACK: Hey, it's Zack.
(BOOTH's
CAR)
BRENNAN: Hi, Zack. (BRENNAN
punches a button on the phone and puts it on speaker.)
(Medico-Legal Lab)
ZACK: The prybar
from the garage is not the murder weapon. It's a prybar
like this one, but not this one. The deep parallel grooves on the interior
border are not a match.
BOOTH: What about the blood?
HODGINS: Apparently, the toluene---
(BOOTH's
CAR)
HODGINS: (over speakerphone,
continued) caused a false positive.
BRENNAN: What about the vertical
fracture on the frontal suture?
BOOTH: (pleased with himself
and seeking approval) That's the forehead.
BRENNAN: (looks at him strangely)
HODGINS: Yeah, I did another
scraping of the fracture and I found a sliver of glass with--
(Medico-Legal Lab)
HODGINS: (continued) --a mastic
film on it. The mass spec shows it as a nitrate of silver, so I think we're
looking for some kind of mirror.
BRENNAN: Good! Thank you.
(BOOTH's
SUV pulls up to a wooded area.)
OPAL: (v.o.)
Found it--
(We now see TRIPP's TRUCK, as OPAL lifts the crime scene tape surrounding
it.)
OPAL: --early this morning.
No way of knowing how long it's been here. My guess is it was stolen, driven
around some, then stripped for parts.
BRENNAN: VIN number matches?
OPAL: Oh, it's the victim's
truck, all right. (Conspiratorially, to BRENNAN) Hey, I gotta
tell you, I love working this one. I'm usually looking over some battered
old heap for evidence, but the vehicles on this case (she exhales appreciatively)
they are sweet.
BOOTH: You got anything else
for me?
OPAL: Ah, they're testing mud
on the bottom of the vehicle on the chance it might match where the victim
was dumped.
BRENNAN: Pry bar.
BOOTH: Huh?
BRENNAN: Pry bar.
OPAL: Yup. Covered
in blood. I blame the Stooges.
BRENNAN: Excuse me?
OPAL: The Three Stooges. They're
always bashing each other in the heads with hammers and bricks and stuff,
and never got hurt. People think they can do it too.
BOOTH: Yeah. Thanks for that.
OPAL: All I'm saying is that
killings like this are Stooge-related.
BRENNAN: Booth...
BOOTH: Yeah?
BRENNAN: Side mirror. (They
both approach the truck.) Long jagged edge. He was
standing by his truck, someone came up behind him
and hit him with a prybar.
BOOTH: Falls forward into the
mirror.
BRENNAN: Fracturing his frontonasal suture.
OPAL: Huh?
BRENNAN AND BOOTH: Forehead.
BRENNAN: Booth, this suggests
only one assailant.
BOOTH: Can we get some lumino; check the mirror for blood?
OPAL: Well, we're not hurting
for blood around here. (She walks to the truck's in-bed storage container,
which she pops open to reveal that it's streaked with blood.)
BOOTH: Oh, jeez. Whoa! Whoa.
OPAL: Don't need any luminol for this.
BOOTH: So he was killed, loaded
in the box, driven to the mud, and dumped.
BRENNAN: That's physically
impossible for a paraplegic to do.
BOOTH: It's only one murderer;
it wasn't Garth. Do we have any prints?
OPAL: Just the victim's, but
we did find some hair in the box where the body was placed. (An FBI Forensic
Tech hands her a bag with the hair in it.) It's dyed. We're checking for the
exact brand and color.
BRENNAN: The roots are gray...it's
short.
BOOTH: Lenny Fitz...dyes his hair.
BRENNAN: Why would Lenny kill
his most valuable rider?
(End Act Four.)
(Begin Act Five. FBI Interrogation room. LENNY is massaging his forehead, accompanied
by his attorney, SMALLS.)
SMALLS: I'd like the record
to reflect that my client has been drinking.
LENNY: That's an understatement.
SMALLS: And that he's rejecting
my advice not to speak to you at this time.
BOOTH: Did you drink a lot
there, Lenny? Maybe out of guilt?
LENNY: I lost a son, Agent
Booth. A son. So excuse me for feelin'
bad about that, all right?
BRENNAN: Do you mean your biological
son, or Tripp Goddard?
LENNY: Lady, I loved Tripp
Goddard like a son, but Danny--Danny was my son. There's a difference.
SMALLS: I'm confused. Is my
client a person of interest in this, or an actual suspect, and in which death?
BRENNAN: Well, that depends
upon whether or not the same person killed both Danny Fitz
and Tripp Goddard.
LENNY: You can't honestly think
that I killed either one of them!
BOOTH: Well, we found Tripp's
truck.
LENNY: Where?
BOOTH: Clearing in
BRENNAN: Forensic evidence
shows that Tripp was murdered in the mechanic's bay and his body was transported
in his own truck.
SMALLS: What's that got to
do with my client?
BRENNAN: There's forensic evidence
tying him (indicating LENNY) to the body.
SMALLS: (disdainfully) What you got, a nail clipping, a piece of dried snot, a hair?
BOOTH: No, we've got forensic
evidence.
SMALLS: Lenny, when was the
last time you saw Tripp?
LENNY: I told you, at the victory
party.
SMALLS: You shook hands with
him, sat next to him at the bar, didja make out
a little?
LENNY: I hugged him.
SMALLS: Any other questions
about how trace evidence from my client may have wound up on Tripp's remains?
BOOTH: Just hold him on suspicion;
that's all. (BOOTH and BRENNAN rise to leave.)
LENNY: Look, I didn't kill
Tripp!
SMALLS: I can get a court order
to release him in less than an hour.
LENNY: Look, why would I kill
someone I just signed a business deal with?
BOOTH: Wait, you---you what?
SMALLS: Mr. Fitz signed ten percent of his company over to Tripp.
BOOTH: You mean the motorcycle
team.
SMALLS: No, Mr. Fitz means the beverage company.
BRENNAN: Slam Bolt Energy Drinks?
(SMALLS nods.) Why offer so much?
LENNY: Because he was the best.
SO I offered him a piece of the business, as an incentive to race exclusively
for Slam Bolt.
SMALLS: And everybody's happy.
BOOTH: Who isn't happy?
LENNY: Every other motorcycle
team.
BRENNAN: Did Tripp Goddard
sign?
LENNY: I only got him the contract
that night.
SMALLS: And then hugged him.
BOOTH: So you signed it, but
he didn't.
SMALLS: We don't know. (pauses, during which the Heavy Piano of Plot Import kicks up
again.) You haven't found the contract, have you? (BRENNAN looks up at BOOTH,
who is standing.)
BOOTH: We'll be in touch. (BRENNAN
stands and they both leave. LENNY buries his face in his hands.)
(Exterior shot. BOOTH's SUV drives by a government building with Corinthian
columns.)
BOOTH: (starts out in v.o.) Sexual jealousy as a motive didn't pan out, professional jealousy was looking pretty good....
BRENNAN: Until Danny was killed.
BOOTH: But money, that's always
good.
BRENNAN: (exhales) How much money?
BOOTH: Well, company like Slam
Bolt? Millions is my guess.
BRENNAN: Tripp Goddard could've
been attacked by more than one person; the skull shows that as a possibility.
BOOTH: No changies,
Bones. Prybar to the back of the skull, mirror to
the face, no takebacks, one
killer.
BRENNAN: I'm just saying that
maybe Philippa and Danny didn't like it when their
father signed over a chunk of their family company to Tripp Goddard.
BOOTH: Well, it's a good business
decision. (off BRENNAN's
look) Look, Garth wants Tripp dead for puttin' him
in a wheelchair. Philippa wants Tripp dead for grabbing
up a hunk of her father's company.
BRENNAN: Two killers again?
You said no changies and no takebacks.
BOOTH: It doesn't scan. You
know, ah...why would either Garth or Philippa want
Danny dead?
BRENNAN: You're the motive
guy.
BOOTH: Look, we found Garth's
"knee scrapers" pen in the mud...
BRENNAN: No, that doesn't prove
anything. He gave them out to everybody.
BOOTH: (scowls) It's...it's right here, Bones, it's right in front of us...but
I just--can't get it.
BRENNAN: That whole business
with changies and takebacks
--that's not real, right?
BOOTH: No. (BRENNAN glances
in a variety of directions. BOOTH looks over at her.) But I have another question.
BRENNAN: Is there anything
more we can learn from the murder weapon?
BOOTH: No, that's a you question. My question is, how did the
murderer know about the secret mud hole.
(BOOTH's OFFICE. TIM is sitting in front of Booth's desk, on which a Philadelphia
Flyers candy jar and a Pittsburgh Steelers coffee mug are sitting.)
TIM: Look. I know I was breakin' the rules when I drove my truck on national park
land. But, I mean, this girl...Didn't you see her?
BOOTH: (is lining up a putt
on his mini-golf set.) I really don't care about that.
TIM: Come on, man, have a heart!
BOOTH: Look, I got it about
the girl the minute I saw her, okay? We all do things..(he putts) for the girl.
TIM: So what do you need to
talk to me for?
BOOTH: I need to know how you
found out about that mudhole.
TIM: Oh.
BOOTH: Oh, what?
TIM: I don't wanna be a rat, you know?
BOOTH: Look, sport, I don't
care about the girl, or the mud, or the four-by-four, okay? Hardly anyone
knows about that place and someone dumped a body there.
TIM: (reluctantly) My friend told me about it.
BOOTH: I need a name.
TIM: He didn't do it; he's
in a wheelchair.
BOOTH: Your friend's name Garth
Jodrey?
TIM: How'd you know that?
BOOTH: (points to his nameplate
on his desk) Special Agent Seeley Booth. (with emphasis)
Special.(He claps TIM on the shoulder.)
(Jeffersonian, exterior shot.
Day.)
ZACK: (v.o.)
This is the shaft--
(Interior,
Medico-Legal Lab. Platform. We are focused on the prybar.)
ZACK: (continued)--of the prybar. It's made of tempered steel with a shiny chrome covering.
BRENNAN: The murder weapon
we found on Tripp's truck.
ZACK: Yes. As you can see,
the chrome is compromised. (perplexed) Putting chrome
on a prybar is not a good example of functionality.
ANGELA: (shrugs) Maybe it was
decorative.
HODGINS: (looking at the magnification
on a video monitor.) Those're blood flecks.
BRENNAN: From the victim?
HODGINS: We have no way of
knowing until DNA tests is done.
ZACK: The blood flecks begin
approximately 25% of the way up the handle.
BRENNAN: What does that indicate?
ZACK: I have absolutely no
idea.
ANGELA: Oh, come on! Choke?
(off the dumbfounded looks from HODGINS, ZACK, and BRENNAN.)
Didn't anybody play softball or baseball? (ZACK shakes his head no.) Okay.
(She picks up a similar prybar, and demonstrates
the grip by holding the bar first by its handle, then by moving her grip upwards.)
It's a choke-up.
HODGINS: (catching on) For somebody not strong enough to swing the entire length of
the bat, of course! It's a choke-up.
(BRENNAN continues to look
lost.)
ZACK: (using the English-to-Brennan
dictionary) To forshorten
the fulcrum.
BRENNAN: Yes, I see, because
the murderer was weaker than the full-grown male human for whom the prybar was designed.
ANGELA: Right, like a girl.
Now, when I batted, I always had to choke up.And
of course, I kicked ass. (She grins.)
HODGINS: Sweet.
BRENNAN: I'll have
(BRENNAN's office. We pan in from behind BRENNAN's
tropical fish tank, to see BRENNAN sitting at a table. APRIL walks in.)
APRIL: Excuse me. Temperance?
BRENNAN: April, hi.
APRIL: I, uh...wanted to talk
to you, woman to woman, if that's possible.
BRENNAN: It is possible, because
we are both women.
APRIL: (smiles slowly, then sits down at the table. She then stands back up.) Seeing
you the other night, it made me realize that you have a very objective eye.
BRENNAN: Thank you.
APRIL: And you got to see Lance
and me together, and I wonder if--if you might tell me what you think.
BRENNAN: Could you be more
specific in the question?
APRIL: Oh. (sits
down, breaths in heavily, then exhales.) Fish. Fish
choose their mates based primarily on color gradations. Two
gouramis, for example, one male and one female? They'll
mate if they're both vibrant blue. Now, if the male becomes paler, which can
happen over the course of time, the female becomes nonreceptive to the male, even aggressive--do you see where
I'm going with this?
BRENNAN: Sweets is too pale.
APRIL: Yes. But let's say young,
instead of pale, and go with that.
BRENNAN: Is there an age difference?
APRIL: (scoffs) Yeah. I'm almost
27, and Lance just turned 23. (pauses) What's the
age difference between you and Booth?
BRENNAN: Ah, five years, but
no, we are not blue fish.
APRIL: (gets it, and nods.)
But still. He's very firm once you get him out of that suit, but
...
BRENNAN: A pale blue.
APRIL: Robin's-egg, really.
(on the verge of tears)...And I'm a vibrant, vibrant cobalt.(pulling
it together) Not literally, I mean, we're both mostly pink, in reality.
BRENNAN: No, I understand.
APRIL: (back to verging on
tears, querulously) Did we seem good together to
you?
BRENNAN: April, it was--only
one evening.
APRIL: (nods)
BRENNAN: (to
APRIL: (tearily)
Oh, it was much more than adequate, it was wonderful,
really. (APRIL sniffs. Closeup on
(FBI Interrogation
Room. BOOTH and
BRENNAN are questioning SMALLS and PHILIPPA.)
SMALLS:(v.o.) Excuse
me, we're here about a mud bath?
BOOTH: No, we got a sworn statement
here from Garth Jodrey that Philippa Fitz took him to the mud
hole three years ago.
BRENNAN: To have sex.
BOOTH: The same mudhole that Tripp was dumped in.
PHILIPPA: I could give you
a sworn statement that Garth took me to that mud hole.
BOOTH: Oho, I slid that one
right by her.
PHILIPPA: What?
SMALLS: You just admitted that
you had prior knowledge to the location of a mud hole.
BRENNAN: No changies.
BOOTH: No takebacks.
SMALLS: Answer nothing without
prior confirmation from me.
BOOTH: You killed Tripp because
your father was about to sign the company over to him.
PHILIPPA: What?
SMALLS: Don't respond in any
way.
BOOTH: We have DNA evidence
that shows that you swung the prybar into Tripp's
head.
SMALLS: According to the forensic
report, the sample was very small, and was totally used up during the course
of the test.
BRENNAN: It's an accurate test.
SMALLS: But it can't be repeated.
And my client has a twin brother. Juries hate DNA evidence and twins. What's
that sound? I believe that's reasonable doubt startin'
its engines.
BRENNAN: We have evidence that
the same prybar was used to sabotage Tripp's motorcycle.
SMALLS: A common tool left
in a semi-public area? In a situation that could have arisen from incompetence
rather than sabotage.
BOOTH: (to PHILIPPA) You sabotaged the bike to kill Tripp, but he signed the contract
before he could ride the bike and die the way he was supposed to.
BRENNAN: So, you killed him
with a prybar, loaded him onto his own truck, and
dumped him in the mud puddle.
BOOTH: Everything was great
until your brother rode the bike that you sabotaged.
PHILIPPA: You don't ride someone
else's bike; Danny knew that!
SMALLS: Philippa...
BRENNAN: You killed him. Accidentally,
but you did kill him.
PHILIPPA: I loved my brother...
SMALLS: Don't speak, please.
(to BRENNAN and BOOTH) Are we free to go, or would you like
to waste some more of the taxpayers' money?
BRENNAN: She did it!
SMALLS: You may get a prosecutor
to lay a murder charge, but a jury will never bring home this baby the way
you want it to.
BOOTH: You're right. But, I'm
still gonna make the arrest.
SMALLS: To what end? You can't
win!
BOOTH: We let everybody know
what Philippa did, including her father.
PHILIPPA: (sobs.)
BRENNAN: (brings BOOTH a cup
of coffee in the conference area of the lab.) I'm okay with what you did there.
BOOTH: Mmm...yeah, thanks a million, Bones.
BRENNAN: Don't get mad; I'm
just saying that, I just like it better when we catch 'em,
and they go to jail.
BOOTH: Yeah, well, sometimes
it can get messy, Bones, but the point is, it gets
done.
BRENNAN: This one started out
in a bit of mud and ended in a bit of mud.
BOOTH: (laughs) That's very damned poetic of you.
(A moody guitar begins to play
as SWEETS enters the conference area, looking all forlorn.)
SWEETS: Oh, hey guys. I didn't
know you'd be here.
BOOTH: Whaddya
think, Bones?
BRENNAN: He's lying. (to SWEETS) Do you wanna sit down?
SWEETS: (shakes his head no.)
Not really.
BOOTH: Lying again.
BRENNAN: (gestures with her
head that he should join them.) C'mon. Sit down.
SWEETS: Okay.
BOOTH: April dump you?
BRENNAN: How did you know that?
BOOTH: He's got that "dump-ee"
look on his face.
SWEETS: (sighs) I'm a trained
psychologist. I mean, I saw this coming; it's not like the signs eluded me.
So I prepared myself mentally for it, and
BOOTH: Hey, Sweets...Bones
and I, we're going bowling tonight.
BRENNAN: (playing along) Yes,
yes, bowling. You know what, you wanna come? To go bowling with us at the bowling rink?
BOOTH: Alley.
BRENNAN: Bowling alley. The bowling alley.
SWEETS: You
know, fish aren't actually sentient. There's a reason people say "cold as a fish."
(BOOTH and BRENNAN nod sympathetically.) Me? I'm a dog person. I think that
has meaning. Don't you?
BRENNAN: Sure...
SWEETS: (in little-boy voice)
Do you think April was pretty?
BRENNAN (looks to BOOTH for
what she should say; he shakes his head no.) Not at all.
SWEETS: You're lying, Dr. Brennan.
I appreciate the effort; thank you.
BOOTH: (grabs the back of SWEETS's rolling chair.) Come on, Sweets, whaddya say we go bowling? (to BRENNAN
as he drags SWEETS's chair out of there.) I got
him, c'mon!
SWEETS: (over BOOTH) Nah, that's
alright...
BOOTH: C’mon!
END