CSI: Crime Scene Investigation (2000–2015): Season 11, Episode 4 - Sqweegel - full transcript

The whole team concentrates on the mysterious attacks of an intruder on rich homes of prominent Las Vegas citizens, known as philanthropists or heroes. They work out the criminal must be sort of a contortionist with a latex fetish. He stalked each victim long term, even taking up secret residence in their homes, and left clues indicating he objected to their honorable status, knowing some incriminating series. Despite the likeliness of another attack, Margot Wilton insists to return home without police protection after her hospital release.

[screaming]

No!

Please!

Stop! No!

[police sirens]

Hey, Nick. Guys.

Don't worry.
She's going to make it.

Hey, I saw you on
TV last week, Ryan.

You're a real hero.
What can I say?

It's not all it's cracked up to be.

He saved a bunch of kids
out of a burning building last week.



Hey, isn't that Margot Wilton?

First Lady of Vegas.

She's Miss Philanthropy herself.

She's got more buildings named
after her than you can count.

It's a real slash job.
Bedroom's a horror show.

Upstairs on your left.
It's a real shame.

Ray and I will take the bedroom. Nick?

I'll find out how he got in.

Guess I'm on the perimeter.

Fresh carvings.

Must be what's left of the boy's face.

So the intruder had to
take the photographs

out of the frames,
obliterate the faces

and then reassemble them.



[Catherine]
Not once, but twice.

He certainly wasn't in any rush.

Key to the City.

Upside down.

Dust.

Someone just did this.

Clean as a whistle.

Two carved-out faces...

and an upside-down award.

It's up to us
to make it right side up.

Blood on the bed,

the headboard, wall.

This is obviously
where she called for help.

The "9" and the "1"
are covered in blood.

The castoff on the wall

suggests her attacker was
directly over her.

[screaming]

Two voids.

Consistent with someone
kneeling over her...

on top of her.

There was no visible blood
on the stairs we just came up

or the hallway
we just came out of.

There has to be
a trail somewhere.

Here we go.

Footprint, handprint,

followed by handprint, footprint.

That's odd.

Fading as they go out
these doors here.

So this guy gets off the bed
one hand and one foot at time.

That's weird.

Hey.

I found the point of entry.

No, no, you're a little late, buddy.
I already found it.

Entry and exit.

Looks like he cut a circular hole

in the glass of the French door.

Guess he put it back in
on his way out.

I don't know why he'd do that.

Unless he's trying to make us think

that he's never been
in the house before.

All the other windows I checked

have been varnished shut,
except this one.

See, the varnish seal has been cut.

And I got fresh chips

and what appears to be
a dust void on the sill

with a feathering pattern
on either side of the void.

All indicative of entry and exit.

Somebody has been through
this window, multiple times.

What is that, 12" by 12"?

That's pretty tight.

I know neither one of us
are getting through there.

Well, then, it could be
we're looking for a small guy,

or even a kid.

Yeah, or a leprechaun.

Or a leprechaun.

Big ups to Greg... he found
a second entry point,

but now I've got more questions
than answers.

How about you?

Here's one: Woman in her 60s,
vulnerable in her bed,

versus a blade-wielding intruder.

Is she lucky to be alive

or did she survive by design?

All right, now, based on the messages
he left, it's obvious

that he didn't approve
of her Key to the City.

And the child in the wheelchair

obviously didn't sit well with him.

This all makes me think
it was personal, Nick.

He's been in and out
of her house multiple times.

He could have killed her
whenever he wanted to.

Why tonight?

I think the answer
is in these messages he left.

I mean, it can't be
in the fingerprints,

because he didn't leave any.

Does any of this
make sense to you?

No, but I bet it makes
a lot of sense to him.

We need to examine
the one piece of evidence

the killer shouldn't have
left behind.

Margot Wilton.

[Margot]
It was very dark.

I think... that he
was African-American.

Strange, uh, slippery.

Slippery how, was he sweating?

No. Uh, more like...

he was wearing gloves.

The one thing that I can't
get out of my head...

those eyes.

Black holes.

Teeth.

Teeth?

Braces.

- Braces?
- I don't know.

- I'm not sure.
- All right, all right, all right.

Did he say anything to you?

No...

I only heard my own screams.

Well...

You are a very brave woman,

and now I understand why
you received the Key to the City.

I, um, noticed in your home

there were several pictures
of yourself

and a young boy in a wheelchair.

Is that your son?

Robbie.

From my first marriage.

Uh-huh.

He died very young.

He was so sick.

I'm so sorry.

Looks like his spirit lived on, though.

Um, I read the plaque.
What did it say?

Uh, fortitude, fulfillment

and philanthropy, was it?

I did it for him.

All I ever wanted
to was help people.

And 50 years later,

Mayor Goodman gave me
the Key to the City.

Ow!

I'm sorry.
Your cuts are evidence.

Don't you doctors and police
ever talk to one another?

Wouldn't it have been
a lot easier

if that cute young resident

hadn't stitched me up at all?

Well, he was just doing
his job, and I'm doing mine.

What's the matter, I'm not cute?

Not right now.

Would you put your finger
right here, please.

Say I'm cute.

Go to hell.

You look like you just
fell down a chimney.

That's about the only thing
I haven't printed.

[groans]

I've been at this for hours.
I don't have one usable print.

Well, you know what
my Papa Olaf used to tell me...

What's that, Greg?

"Hojern, when the going gets rough,

keep your chin up."

I was walking the perimeter,

and I noticed a window
above the bedroom window.

This place has an attic somewhere.
We know this guy has been coming

in and out of here, but that's
one place we haven't looked.

After you.

I don't do attics.

I'm dirty enough.

After you.

Attaboy.

Damn, she's got a lot of awards.

Yeah, she's got a lot of everything.

- This house is holey.
- What?

Look up.

How many pinkies?

I know a rat didn't do that.

Not unless the rat's kinky and
knows how to use a lipstick cam.

He's been living up here

and keeping one eye on Margot Wilton.

Hey.

He's been reading her mail.

These envelope lips are rippled.

It's pretty obvious
they've been steamed open.

You and Margot have
something in common.

Yeah, what's that?

A stalker.

That was a long time ago.

- Nick.
- Hmm?

Help me with this bed.

Yeah.

Looks like they were
sleeping together.

But he never touched her
until last night.

Margot Wilton's house is a bust...

no fingerprints, no trace, no DNA.

As of right now, the guy
we're chasing is forensic-proof.

He'd be the first.

Which leads us
to the Hourglass of Evidence.

Now, normally,

we collect evidence, we analyze it,
it leads us to the truth,

but here we have the absence
of individualized evidence,

so let's flip...

the hourglass.

The absence of evidence
is evidence.

And from that,
we can draw certain conclusions.

So the suspect
went in and out of the house

through a small window.

- So he's small.
- Which is consistent

with the dust void under her bed.

No more than five-eight.

[Catherine]
He's agile.

Virtually spider-walked
off of her bed...

foot, hand, hand, foot.

So we have a possible male,
slight build, medium height,

physically fit,
younger rather than older.

And maniacally patient.

He sat in the attic eating oranges,
watching Margot Wilton

for possibly weeks, even months.

Lying under her bed,
reading her mail,

invading her life
without her ever knowing it.

He's diabolical.

So, by analyzing what's not there,

we begin to fill
the bottom of the hourglass,

which leads us to...

the truth.

Let's reanalyze the evidence
with fresh eyes.

Looks like urine.

But it's not in
the appropriate anatomical region.

Doesn't smell like urine.

You know, uh, Grissom
would have tasted that.

Could be sweat.

It fluoresces the same as urine.

So you're saying
only his spine was sweating?

Spines don't have sweat glands.

Well, if it is sweat,
then we can get epithelials.

Hmm. Run DNA.

No sweat.

♪ This is not the end
This is not the beginning ♪

♪ Just a voice like riot rocket,
every revision ♪

♪ We should listen to the tone
and the violent rhythm ♪

♪ And though the words sound steady
so I'm empty again ♪

♪ Say, yeah,
fists flying up in the air ♪

♪ Like we're holding onto something
that's invisible air ♪

♪ 'Cause we're living at the mercy
of the pain and the fear ♪

♪ Until we get it, forget it,
let it all disappear ♪

♪ We're waiting for the end to come ♪

♪ Wishing I had strength to stand ♪

♪♪ [music continues]

Wish I could say
I don't have a fetish, but I do.

Should I shut the door?

Amylase confirmed that
the carpet stain was sweat.

DNA was compromised,

so it was a dead end there,

but the sweat was not alone.

- What was with it?
- Well,

here's where the fetish comes in.

Found trace amounts of silicone,

cyclopentasiloxane,
and other components

that are commonly found
in latex fetish sprays.

Primary use is
to slide on skintight latex suits.

Hmm.

The victim said her attacker
was a black male adult

who felt slippery.

He was probably wearing latex.

With a zipper up the back...

which explains
why his spine was sweating.

Time to get kinky.

I knew I should've shut the door.

Doberman head, nice.

That's new.

What do you mean "that's new"?

You got to keep up
with these things, Nicky.

All sex crimes start with fantasies.

When it goes from the big head
to the little head,

that's where we come in, you follow?

I mean, you didn't think I came
in here recreationally, did you?

I don't know, you just referred
to a dog mask in a sex shop

as "nice" and "new."

I had to ask.

You okay?

Are you?

Catherine!

Hey, I got your call.

Got that multispeed hoo-hah
that I ordered for you.

It was hot pink, right?

I'm kidding.

Joey's been a great resource
for all my sex crimes.

So...

Latex?

What is our suspect into?

Well, according to our trace tech,

it's a silicone-based fetish spray.

To put on latex,
preferably skintight latex.

- It's probably full-body.
- Okay, let's talk silicone spray.

You know,
I only carry one brand.

It's a pretty slow mover.

I did sell a couple bottles,
though, about six months ago,

to a guy who, uh...

oh, he custom-ordered
two latex head-to-toes.

Head-to-toes?

Yeah. It's full head gear,
gloves, booties.

Every inch covered except for
the eyes, the nose, the mouth.

Well, I know you keep
some kind of records.

Oh, come on,
I got more than that.

I got concept drawings,
I got photos.

I made the suits myself.

Took me a couple days,
but they turned out just so great.

Photos?

I mean, you have a picture of him?

Yep.

This explains the sweat
stain in the dust void.

He was sweating through his zipper.

Do you have anything with him
without the mask?

No. He wouldn't allow it.

That's a pretty tough ask
in a place like this.

Sure.

Heterochromia.

One blue eye, one brown.

You got anything else on this guy?

I don't know, let me check.

I remember
he wouldn't leave an address,

he always paid cash,
but... look at that.

Did leave a name.

lan Moone.

lan Moone.

lan...

Moone.

One.

"I am no one."

Uh, be sure to lock your doors.

Okay.

Go, Mommy.
Car wash! Yay!

It's on a timer, sweetie.

Sit back and relax,
put your earbuds in.

Listen to your music.

Hey. It's me.

I'm at the car wash.

I'm sorry I couldn't
get away earlier to talk, but...

Yeah.

How's my Mr. Everything?

Look, Dolly, it's a bubble bath!

Really? Okay.

You know I will. I always do.

I will make it happen.

I always do.

I need to see you.

No, I need to see all of you.

[whispering]
Say good-bye!

Help me! Help!

[child's player]
♪ The itsy-bitsy spider ♪

♪ Climbing up the spout ♪

- [squeaking]
- ♪ Down came the rain ♪

♪ And washed the spider out ♪

♪ Out came the sunshine ♪

♪ And dried up all the rain ♪

♪ The itsy-bitsy spider-- ♪

[screaming]

What do you think
the "A" stands for?

Are you sure it was just the mother
and daughter in the car?

Yeah, just the two, ma'am.

Well, if they were alone
in a locked car,

how the hell did
this happen, Greg?

Catherine?

Got blood back here.

Mostly smears.

Well, I've got half
of a bloody hand impression.

So do I.

Well, it appears that there was

no blood on him
as he went to kill her,

but he definitely left
traces of her blood

as he was backing out.

Blood transfer on the hatch release.

Carpet's bone-dry.

He had to be in the car
before it went through the wash.

Spare tire compartment.

No tire.

Is it possible that the same guy

who crawled through
the bathroom window

fit into a space like this?

Well, if he was here,
where did he go?

And how did he get away
without being seen?

425A! Suspect on the premises!

Greg, flashlight.

Damn it!
Who turned on the water?

[Man]
Shut it down! Shut it down!

Alise... I know you don't
want to talk to anybody,

and I know you're scared,

but I'm a policeman and
I'm trying to do my job, so,

I thought maybe
we'd play a little game.

Maybe... if you let me,

I'll talk to your doll.

Would that be okay?

Great. Thank you.

Hello, doll.

My name is James.

I'm trying to help Alise
out of a tough spot.

So can you tell me,
was anyone else in the car

with Alise and her mom?

No, huh?

You know, I want to believe you,

but, uh, there
had to be somebody.

Maybe you just didn't see him?

Maybe you... and Alise
were watching the car wash?

Yeah.

Well, let me ask you is there...

is there anything
that you could tell me

that would help me catch
the man that hurt Alise's mom?

You can even whisper it,
if you want.

It's okay.
Whisper it in my ear.

[sing-song]
Sqwee... gel.

Excuse me?
Could you say that again?

Sqwee... gel.

- Where is she? Alise!
- Daddy!

Oh, baby. Oh, my baby.

Oh, my baby. Oh, my girl.

My girl.

Do you know anyone who would
want to harm your wife?

Actually, yes.

Really? Explain that.

My wife, uh...
she was recently appointed

to the Family Values Committee
in, uh, Clark County.

She got there because she...

she single-handedly
went up against these...

these big video game companies

and banned the sale
of, uh, Vehicular Manslaughter

and all those other violent
first-person games, to minors.

Minors.

Kids.

Did she receive any, uh,

crank calls or hate mail,
death threats?

- Much more than that.
- Really?

Someone broke into our home.

I was at work.
Alise was at day care.

Uh, hey, Doc?

This guy, he put my wife in the hospital.

Okay? He cut her up real bad.

[Dr. Hall]
Carrie Jones, our car wash victim,

was attacked twice.

Most recent was a few hours ago.

The first attack was probably
no more than a few weeks ago.

Both are sharp-force injuries.

What's your guess
on weapon of choice?

Could be a box cutter.
Maybe a straight razor.

- Ray.
- Hey.

C.O.D. is sharp-force injuries
to the neck.

Severed the carotid.

All the other wounds
are defensive.

Some old... some new.

I had a conversation with
my gut on the way down here.

I just want to see
if my suspicions are correct.

We have... identical wounds,
similar in length,

double-edged blade.

That means whoever attacked
Margot Wilton...

killed Carrie Jones.

I need to see what
was under her bed.

Dust void.
Well, he was definitely here.

Sqweegel.

That's the name
the little girl gave the killer.

She was in the car at the car wash
when her mother was killed.

Now, I'm guessing is,
"sqweegel" is the sound

that the mops make as they go back
and forth across the windshield.

Sqweegel, you know?

Yeah. Traumatic memory image.

Oh, I got traumatic
memory image for you.

Deja vu.

This is Margot Wilton's
place all over again.

You got same M.O.,
jimmied bathroom window,

multiple entries and exits...

I bet if we all look up,
we'll find a hole

with a lipstick cam in it, no prints,

no DNA.

There it is. I'm on it.

Got something here.

- Ray, get a shot of this.
- Uh-huh.

The letter "A."

Just like the car wash.

Lucky for you,
I hate my husband.

I'll take football
over car insurance any day.

Car insurance.

Mr. Jones...

what do you do for a living?

- Turn it off. Just turn it off, please.
- Very well.

I can't imagine how difficult
this must be for you,

Mr. Jones, but unfortunately,

I do have to ask you
another question.

Now, we found this, uh...

DVD under your bed.

Now, did you hire a P. I.
to follow your wife?

Well, why would I do that?

You tell me.

She's the chair
of the Family Values Committee.

Her whole life has
been about the truth,

honesty and morality.

That's what he meant.

- What are you talking about?
- That's what he meant.

When Carrie was attacked,
she told the police, she said,

that animal, he kept saying to her...

"I know. Confess."

She said she didn't know
what her attacker

was talking about...
I think she did.

That "Scarlet Letter" on the windshield
can only mean one thing.

Well, she had a dirty little secret.
She was a party girl,

cheating on her husband
who didn't have a clue.

But Sqweegel did.

Now, he attacked Carrie
two weeks ago,

didn't kill her, leaves her alive
with the message,

"I know. Confess."

Gave her a chance to repent.

I guess she didn't,

because he killed her
in the car wash.

My thought is,
he gave Margot Wilton

the chance to repent as well,

and if she hasn't,
her life's still in danger.

I have lived there for 45 years,

and I want to go home.

The department has the resources
to put you in a hotel

- and provide round- the-clock security.
- I don't want to go to a hotel.

With a bunch of strangers next to me?

Chances of that guy coming back
are a million to one.

You weren't his only victim.

Gentlemen, this is an
unauthorized interview.

You're compromising
Mrs. Wilton's right to counsel,

not to mention
her freedom of movement.

Need I remind you...

she's a victim, not a suspect.

Oscar, we're just trying
to keep her safe, that's all.

Oh, Jim, quit with the fear tactics.

No fear tactics, Mayor Goodman.

We have every reason to believe
that the first attack was a warning.

I'll take my chances.
Please take me home.

- Jim, I need a minute with her.
- All right. Oscar.

I need to talk to you privately, please.
Over here.

- Yes?
- I just need one minute.

"I know. Confess."

Your attacker said the same
thing to a young mother.

Two weeks ago,
he attacked her at home,

gave her a warning,
now she's dead.

What does he want you
to confess, Margot?

What does he know
that you're not telling us?

Does it have something to do
with your son

or the Key to the City?

Your minute's up.

If you so much
knock on that door,

I'll have you in court
tomorrow on harassment.

Pardon my bark; she's a friend.

Go over my head,
and I'll kill you.

No.

No. No!

Looking for your letters?

[screaming]

What's going on, Akers?

Got a call about
an abandoned vehicle.

One of our guys ran the plates
and it came back to one of ours.

- Yeah? Whose is it?
- Ryan Fink.

You know that hero paramedic
who saved all those kids?

Yeah, yeah, I know who that is.

This is the car the city gave him
for saving the kids.

It's locked up.

Looks like I got some blood.

Hand me your stick.

Exigent circumstances.
Watch yourself.

This is not the kind of situation where
you just stand by and wait, okay?

We gotta go in.
Help me out here.

Give me the green light.
Okay. I'll stand by and wait.

I just found blood
all over Ryan Fink's car,

enough to presume he's dead.

Carrie Jones, Ryan Fink,
Margot Wilton...

all three honored by the city
and now two of them are dead.

I guarantee you she's next.

The whole team's right
behind me. Let's go in.

[panting]

[whining]

What do you want from me?

I think you know.

I don't know anything.

You know everything.

I read your letters.

I heard your phone calls.

I even watched while you slept.

I know why you toss and turn
at night.

It's hard to be still
in Robbie's nightmare.

He was my baby.

He was so sick, he was in pain.

He'd cry, every night, in his chair.

He was trapped and so was I.

Tell me about the pool.

How your son's death
was an act of mercy.

- A mother's love.
- Oh, you bastard.

- You don't know the whole story.
- I know everything!

All right!

All right, I know that you know.

But you have to understand,
my son was dying.

Say it.

Robbie drowned...

and it was not an accident.

I killed him.

I murdered my son,

'cause I believed

in my heart that it was
the right thing to do.

- Mrs. Wilton? Are you hurt?
- I shot him.

- Which way'd he go?
- I don't know. I shot him.

Five shots, no blood?

The case mouths are crimped.

He replaced her real ammo with blanks.
This guy thought of everything.

Mitch, get her out of here.
Nick, check upstairs.

The rest of you, on me.
Let's go find this bastard.

Let's go.

Lady, we've got to
get out of here now.

[grunting]

No! My letters! My letters!

Ray?

It's all right.

Tache noir.

The exposed sclera has gone black.

He's got a little bit of a stench

coming off of him, so he's been dead
for a couple of hours.

How can that be?

- That's Ryan Fink.
- The paramedic?

Yep.

You see the scars?

Attacked first, then killed.

Just like Carrie Jones.

Phew. Margot Wilton was lucky.

That's why he bought two suits.

But why put them under the bed?

I think our answer is in the wind.

[Margot's Voice]
Dear Henry,

I hope I have the courage
to send you this letter.

Because you're his father,

I owe you the truth about our son.

Robbie begged me
to end his suffering.

He was failing,
more and more each day.

I can't.

You can if you love me.

I did a terrible thing.

I just stood there...

watching him.

I'll never forgive myself.

It's no wonder she insisted
on going back to her house.

She needed to get the letters.

That was her secret.

I got a call from the fire chief.

Some tipsters have been calling
the fire department hotline.

There's evidence this guy Fink
had been setting fires

to make himself look like a hero.

That's his secret.

And the biggest secret of all,
who is lan Moone?

I am no one.