Bones (2005–2017): Season 5, Episode 19 - The Rocker in the Rinse Cycle - full transcript

When the body of a rich adventure-seeker is found in a hotel laundry machine, Booth and Brennan are led to the last place he was seen: a Rock 'n Roll Fantasy Camp. While Brennan and Booth ...

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They put me in charge
of all this.

I'm like one of those big shots
on Wall Street,

only I deal with laundry instead of money.

Wow.

Not many people know it, but this is
the nerve center of the entire hotel.

Well, I would have thought
it would be room service.

No way. Proper washing at this volume
depends on water quality,

bleach concentration, time,
and of course, agitation and heat.

Agitation and heat, yeah.
I definitely got that.

We're gonna be late for dinner.

I'll push our reservations.
Check this baby out.



Energy Plus.

That means not only am I washing away
the filth and the fluids

that people get on your hotel sheets,

I am also on the front line
of the fight against global warming.

What was that?

Foreign object in the wash barrel,
it happens.

It looks gooey.
Won't it gum up your machine?

Whatever it is, this baby can handle it.

Okay, so the only way the body
could've gotten down here

is if someone threw it
down a laundry chute.

Well, that would seem
to suggest homicide.

Yes, it would.

Is that a new tie?

Yeah, yeah, yes, it is. You like it?



Well, I'm not sure why you'd want to wear
frolicking cetaceans around your neck.

Well, because Catherine got it for me.
Look, they're little dolphins.

- The marine biologist?
- Yeah, yeah, it was a present.

- Interesting.
- Well, what do you mean, interesting?

Check this out.

Good luck on the ID. Too bad they didn't
do him on the delicate cycle, huh?

Well, obviously the manufacturers
didn't anticipate human remains.

You know, according to the laundry guy,

the body could've been sitting
in a pile of dirty sheets for two days

before it got thrown into the wash.

Well, the heat in here
would've sped up decomp.

Look out, I'm going in.

Judging by the concavity of the rib end,
the victim was middle-aged.

Dismemberment occurred postmortem,
most likely during the spin cycle.

Wait, what's so interesting about my tie?

Well, a gift is a social contract,
a basic anthropological construct.

By giving you the tie, Catherine has
entered into a social contract with you.

Really?

Fabric softener's permeated
the soft tissue.

Everything's swollen.

Speaking of social contracts,
do you like your gynecologist?

She's extremely competent, yes,

but I don't think
she's accepting new patients.

I thought you were happy
with Dr. Oksenberg?

Look, all right, listen, can you two
just save the lady part discussion

for when I'm not here?

Dr. Oksenberg moved to California,
and I am looking for a doctor for Michelle.

She's at that age, you know.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

We are not gonna be discussing
your daughter's sex life.

Because A, she's a good girl.
She doesn't have sex.

And B, you're touching a dead body.

- I don't follow your logic.
- I'm always touching a dead body, Seeley.

If I let that be a barrier to conversation,
I would...

Okay, can someone
just please remove the eyeball?

This is not an eyeball.

What is it?

I'll put it this way, our victim was male.

Would you rather us go back
to talking about lady parts?

The skeleton appears to have suffered
a great deal of damage in the washer.

Well, that wins
the understatement award for today.

It's going to be very difficult
to find cause of death.

Well, if the three pounds of muck
I've got here in the catch is any indication,

then that washing machine
must've been a beast.

Dr. Brennan, I found something.

Right here, at the junction
of the maxilla and palatine.

Is that a bullet wound? Like a shot?

The hole is a result of surgery,
not a gunshot.

Most likely for oral cancer.

There's also bone degeneration
on the mandible.

Our victim was probably a cigar smoker.
Anything else?

Condom. Unused. Never mind.

I also found a number
of fully remodeled fractures.

Here's one in the right hamate bone.

It's approximately three years old.

An injury like this is mostly typical
for professional baseball players.

The great Tony Pena suffered
a similar fracture.

0-11 as a utility infielder
before being traded by the Royals...

To the White Sox, after successful surgery
to repair his hamate.

Oh, and our all-American Muslim
drives in a run.

- Nice one, Arastoo.
- Thank you.

I thought our victim played baseball,
but then I saw these.

A number of mostly repaired compression
fractures in the tibia and tarsus.

An injury pattern most commonly
sustained by rock climbers.

And these fractures occurred about
a year after the hamate fracture.

And here's where I go for the triple,

because another remodeled fracture,
about a year old, and to the hyoid.

With an accompanying microfracture
on the parietal.

Almost certainly indicating our victim

was involved in a high-speed collision
while wearing a helmet.

What does this mean?

Rock climbing, baseball-playing,
crash test dummy?

- Is there a testicle up here?
- Four that I know of.

I thought you located them at the scene?

Just the one that scared Booth.
I've catalogued the loose tissue,

and all the victim's organs and glands
are accounted for.

But the other testicle
seems to have vanished.

Well, it's not here.

But it does appear our victim was
in the habit of injuring himself annually

in a variety of risky behaviors.

So the guy with one gonad
actually had balls.

Well, if you'll excuse me,
I've got an appointment.

So you're telling me I should be looking
for a cigar-smoking thrill-seeker

missing one of the family jewels?

- That's correct.
- You know, stereotypical male behavior,

such as cigar smoking and risk-taking,
could be a form of over-compensation

in a man who's born with only one testicle.
I could write up a profile.

There's no reason to assume
the victim was born without one.

He could just as easily have lost it
in one of his dangerous pursuits.

If a testicle is severely twisted
or de-gloved,

it almost always necessitates removal.

In the case of penetrating trauma...

No, no.

Do you think we can go 20 minutes
on this case

without talking about testicles?

- Please.
- Okay.

Great.

Booth has made a social contract
with the marine biologist.

I'm sorry?

It's amazing, you go from
injured testicles to the woman I'm dating.

And you, you're supposed to say,

"That's interesting"
in a very annoying way.

It was a logical transition.

But it is very interesting.

Booth and I are friends. Catherine is
an intelligent, attractive woman.

And I'm intrigued
by their developing relationship.

Yeah, that's nice, I think.

Yeah, I think it is nice.

Thank you, Bones.

Wow, you two seem
to be handling dating very well.

I'm impressed.

Well, you've known me
for two years, Sweets.

You should expect to be impressed by me.

You were board certified in '99?

That is correct.

And you did a fellowship at Vanderbilt in...

Reproductive endocrinology.
Boy, you really did your research.

You were recommended by Dr. Oksenberg,

but I wanted to make sure
this is the right fit.

Oh, yeah, no, of course.

Do you consider yourself easy to talk to,

especially about delicate topics,
like someone's first time having sex?

Um, their first time with a new partner?

No, no, their first time,
losing their virginity.

Oh.

Well, yes, of course.
I'd be very sensitive with that topic.

Especially if the delay in sexual maturity

was due to some sort of trauma
or negative conditioning.

Trauma?
My God, why would you bring up trauma?

Well, when an adult woman,
such as yourself,

forgoes sexual activity,
there are often deeper issues at play.

What?

There's been a misunderstanding here.

I'm looking for a gynecologist
for my daughter, who's 16.

Oh, great. I mean, yeah.
That just makes more sense. Um...

I deal with a lot of teenagers,
and they feel very comfortable with me

because they know they're free
to speak about anything.

And it will remain confidential.

Excellent. Well, obviously,
you're respectful and highly qualified.

- I think this'll work.
- I'm glad.

You and your husband can feel confident

that I will treat your daughter
with the utmost care and consideration.

Thank you.

Actually, I don't have a husband.
Michelle's my adoptive daughter.

Oh. I see.

So, thank you, Dr. Lidner.

Paul. Please, you could just call me Paul.

Paul.

- You have something for me?
- Yep, fingernails.

I don't think they're gonna help
with the ID.

I also have clothing remnants,
mostly denim, chain,

also most likely
part of the victim's apparel,

some pieces of molded silicone elastomer.

The missing testicle.

Oh, God.

It's a prosthetic one. They're made
of a silicone shell and filled with saline.

Now, obviously, this has suffered
a lot of damage in the wash,

but if we can get a serial number off this,
we can get an ID.

Okay, I photographed each piece
of the silicone elastomer,

and I used the photos
to reassemble a virtual prosthetic.

Well, the serial numbers were pretty worn
from the washing machine.

Yeah. Well, hopefully, by looking
at the image under different color filters,

we can at least get some of the digits.

You know, I have to say that this whole

finding-ID-by-testicle definitely beats
facial reconstructions.

Does that prosthetic seem
overly large to you?

Well, it isn't to scale, Cam.

Guess it's been a while.

Okay,
I got the serial number for you.

I'll get it to Booth.

It's pretty big.

Richard Cole, 42, single.
Commercial real estate developer.

Left his entire fortune
to the American Cancer Society.

So that rules out financial motive.

Researchers can be ruthless.

Yeah, look at this. This article he did
last spring in the Cigar Connoisseur.

He had oral cancer.
He shouldn't have smoked.

That is not his biggest problem
right now.

He talks about going to fantasy camps
every year for his birthday.

Fantasy camps?

They're expensive camps
where grown-ups,

they get to pretend to be, you know,
race car drivers,

professional ball players,
pretty much anything.

Well, that would explain
the yearly injuries.

You could easily crush a testicle
at rodeo camp.

Look what's going on this week
at the hotel.

God, I wish I had enough money
for this one.

Why, what is it?

Did you ever dream about jamming
with your favorite musical heroes,

or playing gigs in front of throngs
of screaming fans?

Well, please join us
at the one and only fantasy camp

created by the legendary music manager
and promoter...

Me, Simon Graham.

- Music camp?
- That's not music.

That's rock 'n' roll, baby, yeah.

According to Cole's lawyer,
he was trying to buy a property

that Simon Graham
didn't want him to have.

You think Graham murdered Cole
to safeguard some property?

It's possible.
But don't say that Cole is dead,

I don't want anybody panicking
or trying to flee the scene.

I was a very big fan
of Toad the Wet Sprocket.

You might want
to keep that to yourself, all right?

Now, don't get overwhelmed.
It's gonna be very loud in here, and...

So, are you going to the seminar
on string height?

I have a class on tone control then.

That's great.

They're all in line.

They're not even pushing.

This is not my rock 'n' roll fantasy.

No, this can't be right.
Rock 'n' roll is not about seminars.

Come on, people.
Does anybody remember laughter?

Hey, I remember. Zeppelin, man!

Dude, you can lose the tie around here.

Well, he likes it. It's a gift from a woman.

Right. FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth.
Hacker get you anything?

- A subscription to Lapham's Quarterly.
- Sexy.

Can I help you guys with something?

You know, 'cause I really don't wanna
be late for class.

I paid a fortune to be at this camp.

Yeah, we're looking for Simon Graham.

I think he's near the stage. Walk this way.

Aerosmith.

Hey, you know your music.
This is Bebe. I'm Gino.

Is something wrong?

Well, it's about one of your camp mates,
Richard Cole.

Cole? He hasn't been around
for a couple of days.

Yeah, he probably got tired
of fighting with Simon.

Really.

Boys and girls, Erik Dalton.

Simon's in there.
Erik Dalton is starting his workshop.

What? Erik Dalton is here?

- Bones, this is more like it!
- Booth.

Just give me a minute, huh?

Booth. Booth.

Yeah!

Shouldn't we try to talk to Simon?

Booth!

I love you, Erik!

Whoa, whoa!

Who unplugged me? No one unplugs me!

He's right. No one unplugs Erik Dalton.

Well, apparently, I do.
It was the only way to get your attention.

Get her out of here, Simon.

You're... You're yelling unnecessarily,

probably due to hearing loss
from the music you play.

What do you think you're doing?

Okay. Listen, Simon Graham, FBI.

We just have to ask you a few questions
about Richard Cole.

Richard Cole? What the hell is this?
I'm running a business here!

I understand. It's not gonna take long.
Dude, I'm really sorry.

Yeah!

I've identified 83 injuries to the skeleton

that occurred either at the time of death
or in the washing machine.

- I can't tell which.
- So, no cause of death?

Not without evidence
from hemorrhagic staining.

And these remains went through
a wash cycle

with industrial strength bleach.

I was pitching a no-hitter,
and now I can't find the plate.

This baseball thing,
were you allowed to play?

No. The Quran strictly forbids
baseball, lacrosse, of course,

and board games with hungry hippos.

That's a yes, with an additional comment
on my ignorance.

I was a State All-Star in high school.

I even got scouted
by a couple of farm teams.

No way.

Yeah, I still play on the weekends.
My mosque is in a league.

We play against churches and synagogues.

- Wow.
- You should join us sometime.

Oh, come on now,
I can't be on an all-Muslim team.

I'm a lapsed Episcopalian.

No, every team has a few ringers.
The Jews have a Unitarian batting.400.

Really? Huh.

Never tried to beat the infidels before.

As long as you find something
in your washer goop

that helps me determine cause of death,

- you could play shortstop.
- You're on!

Hey, is it true that Simon Graham's here?

Yeah, he's in the conference room.

Okay, I can provide a valuable insight,
Agent Booth.

The man practically invented
a rock subculture.

- You need me.
- You just want to meet him.

There's a little of that, yes.
But I'll be professional.

- You know I'm a good profiler.
- Okay. Professional.

Yes, sure.

Okay, you know how many
seminal rock concert tours he's managed?

Yeah, the guy's a god,
but maybe a murdering god,

so use your ears, not your mouth.
Just listen.

- You understand?
- Yeah.

The camp is for people who love music,

not wannabes in designer jeans,
fancy guitars they never touch.

You're describing Richard Cole?

Well, you know, he's the idiot that
wanted me to turn him into Jimmy Page,

when the only guitar that he ever played
came from a video game. I mean...

That would offend you.
That's a personal affront

to someone who's dedicated their life
to nurturing real musicians.

Well, shouldn't it?

What can you tell me about the Stockyard?

Oh, it's a famous rock club
in downtown Baltimore.

All the greats used to play there.

Mr. Graham used to run it in the '80s.

You weren't asking me? Sorry.

Once Cole's deal went through,
he was gonna tear it down, wasn't he?

That's why you and Cole
were fighting, right?

Yeah. We settled it, though.

What are you talking about?

Well, Cole said that
he'd leave the club alone

if I let him do one song with Erik Dalton
at the end of camp night.

Erik Dalton's one of your guests?

Erik Dalton's one of your guest stars?

He blackmailed you? So did you agree
to let Cole play with Dalton?

Well, yeah. I mean, this is the Stockyard
we're talking about.

Well, how did Dalton feel about that?

Well, how do you think he felt?

Listen, guys, do you mind
if I go back to work?

- Sure.
- Yeah. One, one quick question.

Bar fight, who wins?

Prince and New Power Generation,
or Korn?

Never mess with Prince.

Never mess with Prince.

Honestly, I think you'll like Dr. Lidner.

And you should have someone else
to talk to.

Especially if there's anything,

anything you'd prefer I didn't know about.

I told you, Perry and I are not having sex.

I know, and I believe you.
But you're growing up.

Your body, it's a woman's body now,
not a child's.

And you should treat it like a woman,
and I'm gonna stop talking now.

It's no big deal, Cam. It's just a doctor.

I know. It just means
you're growing up for real.

And you don't quite know how
to handle that?

What? No. Yeah, kind of.
But I will. We will.

Right? I mean, you don't know how
to handle me, either.

Do you?
'Cause that would be embarrassing.

We're fine, Cam.

Because you and Perry
aren't having sex, right?

Okay, okay.

Fry?

How's it going?

Dr. Brennan's waiting for cause of death.

At this rate, I'm gonna be John Gochnaur.

Okay, boys, I'll bite.
Who is John Gochnaur?

The worst Major League Baseball
player ever.

Cleveland Indians.
.187 batting average, zero home runs,

and 146 errors.

Well, is that bad?

Yeah. It's incomprehensibly bad. Here.

This might help.
I found it in the washing machine catch.

- What is it?
- Well, it's bones, so it's your department.

Cross-hatching.
It may be bone, but it isn't human.

Well, then, what is it?

It can't be.

What can't it be?

It's a piece of bone.
Tusk, actually, from a woolly mammoth.

There was a prehistoric elephant
in the washer with him?

What, are you nuts?

No. It has Schreger lines on the grain.
It's a woolly mammoth.

But no help to me.

I wouldn't be so sure about that.

See how this top edge curves?
Now if the curve continued,

and then down here, before it got worn
away in the washer, there was a point.

- A guitar pick?
- Exactly.

Wait, why would someone
want a guitar pick

made of an extinct, prehistoric mammal?

Well, according to my dad,
guitarists have this thing about their picks.

Different materials make different sounds.

Brian May uses an English penny.

My dad uses a Nicaraguan Cordoba.

Some guys use tortoise shells,
or a shark's tooth.

Do you know of any famous guitarists
who use woolly mammoth picks?

Erik Dalton.

Mr. Dalton's pick ended up
in the washing machine with a dead body.

That poses some serious questions,
don't you think?

Yes, I do.

And Dalton isn't exactly known
for keeping his cool.

Check out this video from the concert
in Australia two years ago.

This guy's got
a seriously short fuse.

So, Richard Cole stopped showing up
for his private rehearsals with you,

- and you don't notice?
- Are you kidding? I was thrilled.

I was sick of kissing that guy's ass.

Hey, what are you doing, baby?
Can I help you with something?

You have no expertise
that would be of value to me.

I wouldn't be so sure.
Why don't you come sit next to me?

Excuse me, I really like your music,

doesn't mean I'm not gonna clock you,
all right? Let's just focus.

So, Simon Graham,
he pays you a boat load of money,

and you still treat the campers like crap?

Guy's a poser, dude.
I got stuck with an ass-hat

who couldn't even play rhythm
for Toad the Wet Sprocket.

Oh, I love them.

Mmm. Suddenly the inside of my pants
isn't such a happy place.

Personally, I find your music
discordant and irritating,

rather reminiscent of Muruwari death
wailing in its capacity to annoy.

So maybe Cole pisses you off.

Throw in a little coke in the mix,
and you lose control.

I mean, it's not like it
hasn't happened before.

Hey, man, I've been clean for two years.
I even do yoga. And that hurts.

- Booth?
- Yeah.

The splintering is fresh.

Something hit the side of this table
quite hard,

and there are scuff marks on the wall
beside it that can indicate struggle.

Was there a fight in this room?

A party. I had some campers over
Tuesday night.

Gives them a story to tell their friends.

There's blood on the carpet.

I don't know anything about that.

When things got wild, I left.

Caught a cab across town and spent
some quality time with a girlfriend.

Well, I'm gonna need that girlfriend's
name and number.

And I'm gonna need this carpet.

Sure.

Hey, how'd it go?

Fine. You really didn't need
to come with me.

Well, I just wanted to make sure
you were comfortable.

Sure. He's cool, easy to talk to.

Good. That's excellent.

Uh, excuse me, Dr. Saroyan,
do you have a minute?

Couple of insurance questions is all.

Sure. Be back in a minute.

Is there a problem with Michelle?

No, no, no, no. She's great.

In perfect health.

And she spoke to you about things.

Confidential things, yeah.

I can tell you she's a wonderful girl.
But that's not why I wanted to talk to you.

Right. Insurance.

Not about insurance, either, no.

Now I'm stumped.

Um, I just thought, would it be weird

if I asked you
to go out with me sometime?

Yes, that would be weird.

Of course, very weird.

Yeah, right. It is weird.

Totally. Totally weird.

But I would say yes.

Really?

That's great.

Does that mean you're asking?

I'm sorry. Excuse me.

Work. I've got to go.

Oh, I am, though.

- What?
- Asking.

I'll call you?

I would like that.

So we know that the microfractures
radiate out of each trauma site.

These microfractures expand until
they run into other radiating fractures,

which were created
by earlier trauma wounds.

Now the trick is to separate out
those points of trauma,

where the radiating microfractures
just keep going

because there were no earlier fractures
to cross paths with.

In this way, we can identify
the perimortem fractures,

and therefore determine
that the cause of death

was trauma to the skull and chest cavity.

Cole was beaten to death. Excellent work.

Thank you. And Angela, of course.

- Double play, right.
- Yeah!

I assume you're talking about
baseball again?

Although I have no idea why.

Well,
it's baseball season, sweetie.

This is when boys like to hit balls
with sticks when the snow melts.

I don't know why.

Oh. What, what about the murder weapon?

I'm gonna make castings
of the pertinent injuries.

I'm making him 3-D scans so he can focus
on all the unremodeled fractures.

Sweets would probably say that
the need to hit balls with a large stick

shows that you're insecure
with your manhood.

I can assure you...

I think it's probably just enjoyable
to hit things.

Erik Dalton's hotel room's a good bet
for the murder scene.

We found two sets of DNA.

- So, two people bled on this carpet?
- Yes.

The first set of DNA
belonged to our victim.

Perhaps the second set
belongs to our killer.

I found traces of Klonopin
in the mystery blood,

which means whoever it belongs to
either has a panic disorder or epilepsy.

We should cross-reference
the list of campers

with the prescription drug database.

Booth seems to like Catherine,
don't you think?

I do. I'm glad. It's been a long time
since he's dated anyone.

I know. It's important for Booth
to share his life. I prefer being alone.

But you're seeing Hacker.

Yes, and I like him. But not like Booth.

I mean, not like Booth
wants to like someone.

All organisms evolve and develop along
patterns only recognized in retrospect.

Your life doesn't exist
outside the laws of nature.

Then, in ignorance,
I await my own surprise.

Although the odds of it involving

a commitment to another person
are remote.

I never thought I'd be dating now,

- yet I am.
- You met someone?

I think so. We're gonna have lunch.

It's been quite a while for you.

And thanks for pointing that out.

Booth wants me to meet him at the hotel.

Go. I'll call you if I get a hit
on the Klonopin.

All right, now, reverse on the chord.
Yeah, yeah.

Booth.

Booth, I'm not sure
this is a worthwhile use of our time.

Why? We're still waiting for an ID
on the blood, right?

I mean, I've got a few minutes to spare.

This is pathetic, Booth.

Pretending to be something you're not.
It's dilettante camp.

What if this was like
anthropology fantasy camp,

and you got to meet,
I don't know, Margaret Mead.

- She's dead.
- Well, who would you wanna meet?

- Me.
- You?

Yes. If I were an anthropology enthusiast,

I'd want to go to fantasy camp to meet me.

Come on, Bones, play along.
It's rock 'n' roll fantasy camp.

It's cool, right?

You hear that? That is our song!
Remember, Hot Blooded?

The last time we sang this song, Booth,
someone tried to kill you.

Yeah, but it was fun up until
the blast, right? Come on.

I'm hot blooded, check it and see

Wait a second. You play the guitar?

Well, I play the Akonting,
the folk lute of the Jola tribe.

But the guitar is not dissimilar.

Well, I'm hot blooded
check it and see

I've got a fever of 103

Come on, baby
You can do more than dance

I'm hot blooded, hot blooded

Cam got an ID from the other blood
found in the hotel room.

Fred Keaton.
He's also registered here as a camper.

One more verse.

Well, I'm hot blooded
check it and see

I've got a fever of 103

Come on, baby
Do you do more than dance?

I'm hot blooded, hot blooded

I didn't do anything.

You took off from fantasy camp.

You disappeared and you end up
hiding out in some cheap motel?

I wasn't hiding.

We know you and Richard Cole
had a fight in Erik Dalton's hotel room.

Your blood is on the carpet with his.

He had it coming, okay?

And what was the fight about?

I told him I was still hoping
to be discovered.

I know it's ridiculous,
but I've spent years in my garage playing.

And I'm good. It could happen, right?

Just keep going.

Last Monday, we had a jam night at camp.

This guy came up to me,
told me he's with Rolling Stone,

told me my guitar playing is amazing,

he's gonna include me in an article

called "The 100 Best Guitarists
You've Never Heard Of."

Oh, that sounds like a good thing.

Sounds too good, I'm guessing.

Then these girls come up,
tell me I'm gonna be a star,

asked if they could keep me company
for a few hours.

- What for?
- Sex, Bones.

Oh. Quite a lucky night for you.

It was a prank.
He was messing with you, wasn't he?

How was I supposed to know?

I called my wife,
told her I wanted to take a break.

Then, at Erik Dalton's party,
Cole starts laughing,

tells me the journalist was an actor.

- And the groupies were...
- Professionals.

Rich bastard ruined my life.

Excellent motive for murder.

What are you talking about?

Richard Cole is dead, and I'm thinking
you killed him and took off.

No, I left to do damage control.

My wife won't even let me
in the front door.

She wouldn't even talk to me.

Look, I have no idea who killed Cole,
but what he did to me, he deserved it.

Angela scanned the castings I made
of the fatal injuries

so we can get a better sense
of the murder weapon.

Yeah, and I cleaned up the edges,

and these are the shapes
that caused the injury.

Cam said the blood spatter analysis

didn't show any drag marks
on the carpet from Dalton's hotel room.

Mmm. Which means that Cole
wasn't killed there.

No two of the injuries share
the same impact surface area.

I know. So it appears the guy was hit

with various weapons
that were each used once.

Or he was hit multiple times by a weapon
with a variety of surface shapes.

Well, you know, this could be a tail piece.

A what?

And that could be a tremolo arm,

which means that
those lines are from strings.

Wait a minute.

Our victim was beaten to death
with a guitar?

I've actually seen this before.

Solid body guitars can prove quite lethal.

There have to be over 50 guitars
at that fantasy camp.

Without cause,
we can't get warrants for all of them.

Yeah, but that shape, I mean, the bottom
is too curved to be a Tele or a Strat,

but it's not an SG,
because the tailpiece wraps around,

and then there's the distance
to the jack plate.

No, I think we're looking
for a '57 Gibson Les Paul.

That is so hot that you know that.

Interesting. It's interesting.

It's not like I know every guitar,
but I do know the expensive ones.

How expensive?

I'd say our victim was beaten to death
by about a quarter of a million dollars.

And then after a perfectly nice evening,

I could tell he didn't even
wanna shake my hand.

He looked positively pained.

- He's a science professor.
- No, associate professor.

No, people get weird when they find out
that I handle dead people all day.

Now I just say
I'm an insurance underwriter.

Oh, good one. I'm an accountant.

- No.
- Oh, yeah.

No one wants to talk about work with an
accountant or an insurance underwriter.

Except other accountants or underwriters.

So, do we share
any other great deceptions?

I can make a coin disappear
and come out of your ear.

Ooh. I hate magic. I'm sorry.

Oh. Yeah, me, too.

But it always worked for my Uncle Dave.

Of course he was in a nursing home.

Am I smiling like a fool?
'Cause that would be embarrassing.

Well, you look beautiful embarrassed.

Then I'll keep smiling.

I should get back to the office.

And I have a murder to solve.

Right.

Um, what do you say we catch a movie
on the weekend?

Yeah.

I'll see what my parental duties are
and give you a call.

Sounds good.

Okay.

You remember that Simon told us that

Cole showed up at camp
with a fancy guitar?

Yeah, he wasn't kidding.
A '57 Gibson Les Paul?

Yeah, well, it disappeared
at the same time that Cole did.

You think he was killed for his guitar?

All we know is he was killed
with his guitar.

With a '57 Gibson Les Paul.

That's like whacking someone
with the Mona Lisa.

I got agents checking out dealers
in the area, see if anyone tried to sell it.

Well, unless the killer destroyed it.

Killing something like that would be like
killing Altamont,

or Smells Like Teen Spirit.

You know, the guitar
has long been recognized

as an unconscious symbol of copulation.

The head and the shaft are phallic,
the body feminine.

Maybe our killer was acting
out of sexual confusion.

Or maybe someone just wanted the guitar.

Wouldn't you?

- Yeah.
- Yeah.

Look at this, I got a hit. Dealer in DC

got the guitar, said it was brought in
by a woman with a pierced eyebrow.

Look, whatever. Jimi Hendrix
choked to death on his own vomit.

The autopsy was inconsistent,

and Hendrix's manager confessed
to shoving pills

and red wine down his throat,
hoping to cash in on an insurance policy.

Wow, you really know
your rock 'n' roll deaths.

Oh, hi, again. Yeah, I guess I do.

- We need you to come with us.
- What for?

Well, we have some unanswered
questions about Kurt Cobain's death.

We thought maybe you could give us
some insight.

Seriously?

I believe he's being ironic.

But if you do have information
about this Cobain person,

I'm sure the FBI would
appreciate that, too.

Thanks, Bones.

Cole is dead?
I thought he was just missing.

Is that why you thought you'd get away

with selling his
quarter-of-a-million-dollar guitar?

How much?
That dealer totally ripped me off!

Just stay on topic, all right?

Okay. After Dalton's party, I snuck
into Cole's room and took the guitar.

It was sitting on the stand all polished.

He usually kept it filthy.

I don't know
why he suddenly gave a crap about it.

- How'd you get in?
- I had a key.

We hooked up the first night of camp.

You know,
after all the loser musicians I dated,

I thought I finally met a decent guy, but...

What happened?

Cole told me that he was planning
on sleeping with every woman at camp

as part of his own rock 'n' roll fantasy.

He thanked me for being
such low-hanging fruit.

So you killed him, and you stole his guitar.

He was a poser.
He didn't deserve that guitar.

Look, I know it was wrong to take it,
but I swear to God, I didn't kill him.

I believe her.

Me, too. Too bad she's going to prison
for grand theft.

Then who killed Cole?

Well, everything that
you've learned about the victim

indicates that he was only interested

in the external signifiers
of the rock 'n' roll lifestyle, correct?

Yes, the clothes, the instruments,
the groupers.

Groupies, Bones.

Groupers would be more logical.

Male groupers have harems
of multiple females.

If you enter into a social contract

with a marine biologist,
you should know these things.

You know, a fish can't play the guitar.

Well, apparently
neither could Cole.

You don't have to keep
bringing up Catherine.

Well, you're welcome to bring up Andrew.

I have an opinion on motive,
if anyone's interested.

- Right.
- Okay.

To a true music fan,

the fact that Richard Cole
was playing the ultimate guitar

would be sacrilegious, profane, even.

And the fact that the killer put it back
in Cole's room rather than destroy it

further demonstrates
his reverence for rock 'n' roll.

So you're saying that
the music is the motive?

I know it's wrong, but I am liking
our killer better than our victim.

This is gorgeous.

I wish my dad was here.

No prints other than those of the dealer.

The killer did an excellent cleaning job.

Take it apart, see if we missed anything.

Okay, I'm not gonna watch that.

I'll do it in the Ookey Room.
Arastoo, a little help here.

Will you excuse me?

Dr. Lidner left a message at the house.

Was there anything wrong
with your tests?

No, he was confirming your date
for Saturday night.

Oh. That. Yes, I was gonna tell you.

You're dating my gynecologist?

Well, it wasn't my fault. It just happened.

What? Think about what you'd say
if I said that to you.

I'd ground you. I'm sorry. We had lunch.
We liked each other. That's all.

And that was wrong, very, very wrong.

Is that why you sent me to him,
so you could get a date?

I know you haven't seen anyone
since I've been living with you.

No. He's a good doctor, that's all.

Who just happens to be cute?

Yes! No! God!

Why didn't you tell me?
Don't you trust me?

You have to sneak around behind my back?

No. Wait, how did we switch roles here?

I can't go back to him now.
That would be extremely skeevy.

We just had lunch. I swear
I will never see him again, I promise.

Yes, you will.

What?

You've been so focused
on being a good mother

that you've totally ignored yourself.

You know what kind of pressure
that puts on me?

No, I didn't realize.

You need a life, for my sake.
But don't sneak around behind my back.

You two seem like a good fit.

Have a little fun, but don't go too fast.
You're out of practice.

Excuse me?

I thought you believed in honesty?

All right, I'll go slow.
Very, very slow.

And find me a new doctor. A woman.

Sure, right away.

I've got to get back to school.

Okay.

Love you.

Love you, too.

What do you have, Dr. Hodgins,
anything?

A walk? A single? Don't strike out, please.

Mr. Vaziri, your obsession with sport
will no doubt diminish your mental acuity.

On the contrary, Dr. Brennan.

Baseball's a game built
on mathematical certainty,

the physics of force and velocity,
as well as its anthropological significance

as being one of the unifying
cultural traditions for Americans.

Intellectually, it's quite stimulating,
and I like swinging a bat.

Okay, this fret is cracked.

What, from impact?

No, no. The cracks are tiny.

Yeah, you know, every fret
in the lower register is cracked.

The guitar is old.

Yeah, but that doesn't matter.
This is from chlorine.

See, the frets are made out of nickel,

and nickel reacts like this
when exposed to chlorine.

There's a rooftop pool at the hotel.

If Cole was murdered there,

the killer might've cleaned the guitar
with pure chlorine.

That's why it was so clean
when Bebe stole it.

Well, the strings are made
out of nickel, too, aren't they?

Yeah, but they're brand new.
I mean, there's no cracking.

The killer must've known
he couldn't get all the blood off,

so he didn't even try.

Well, if the killer restrung the guitar,
then maybe he left us a little present.

Bingo.

Is it a hair?

Yes. Yes, it is. Purple.

I think I know whose that is.

Someone who would kill to play
with Erik Dalton.

I believe we would call this a home run.

Guess what kind of pick
Bebe said Gino uses?

What, woolly mammoth?

Come on, everybody! Yeah!

I couldn't let that poser play with him.
Go ahead, man! It was worth it.

I'm sure it was. Come on.

Our killer plays a mean guitar.

I'm sure that they have, you know,
a band in prison for him.

You're a very good singer.

Thank you, Bones. And you play the guitar
in a very interesting fashion.

- I know.
- Yeah.

Does Catherine play?

I don't know.
I've only been out with her twice, Bones.

Last night, Andrew gave me a CD
with music he likes.

Mixed tape. Talk about a social contract.

That's what I surmised.

Our partnership is so important to me.

You know that, right?

Sure.

Yeah.

Die for your partner.
That's the way I look at it.

I liked Andrew's taste in music,
except for a band called Led Zeppelin.

Except for a band called Led Zeppelin?

- Yes.
- What, are you kidding me?

Led Zeppelin is, like,
the best rock 'n' roll band ever.

I mean, they had a reunion tour
in '07 in London.

I would've killed for those tickets.

Really? My publisher offered me tickets.

But when I heard "Zeppelin,"
I thought it was for some sort of air show.

Air show?
You turned down what probably was

the last concert
that Zeppelin would ever play?

- Are you gonna kill me?
- You're unbelievable!

What? It's just a band, Booth.

It's not just a band, okay.
This is Led Zeppelin.

You know what, I am your partner.

You offer your partner
those kinds of things.

- I didn't know that.
- Offer your partner the tickets.

ENGLISH - US - SDH