CSI: Miami (2002–2012): Season 9, Episode 2 - Sudden Death - full transcript

Stop!

Stop!

Stop!

Suspect is heading
East on Lincoln!

Slow down!

Girls...

Have you met Brady Jensen?

College football star,

future pro legend!

Stop!

You decided which
team you'll go with?



Uh, it doesn't really
work like that.

You don't get to choose
what team you play for?

He gets the pick of the litter.

Stop!

Stop!

Suspect's heading north,
at 719 Medium!

We need backup!

We need backup now!
So, what'll it be?

Don't worry about it, champ.

Your Agent's taking care of it.

Stop!

He's not my Agent.

Yet. But I will be, buddy.

Because I'm the best,
and I only sign the best.



Okay, okay, I get it.

Don't make me shoot you!

Hey, we'll have another
bottle, babe, same bottle.

No champagne to celebrate?

Your call, buddy.

Whatever you want.

Well, it's a little early
to celebrate,

don't you think?
I mean, the draft's

not till this weekend.

I'm already positioning you.

Top-tier team
and endorsements from...

here to China!

I told you,
endorsements aren't my focus.

No, thanks.

Can I get your autograph?

Stop! Stop!

MDPD! Stop!

MDPD!

Out of the way!
Out of the way!

Move! Move! Move!

Officers in pursuit.

Suspect on the 1200 block of Collington
East towards... Look out! Look out!

Requesting assistance.

Stop!

Stop!

It's a dead end!

You've got nowhere to run!

Ryan, no!

You're an idiot.

I almost made it.

Eric?

I got him, H!

You can't outrun this.

I heard it's someone famous.
I heard it's a celebrity.

Wait.

Stop the car, man!

Hey, you're in no position

to be giving orders, Brady.

Look, I didn't do this.

Please, man, you can't let
the media see me.

Come on! Oh, they're gonna

"Choirboy quarterback
turns cold-blooded killer."

It almost writes itself.

I didn't kill her!
Come on!

Hey, you calm down!

You ran, all right?

Guilty people run.

Listen, Kristen is
my bottle girl.

So what, you take
her out to the cabana,

have your way with her?
No, she's not

that type of girl.
Look it was her idea

to go to the cabana to talk.

She said she just wanted
to get away from the crowd.

I'm sorry, it's just...

I hate this job.

You seem like a
really nice guy.

I really just need to quit.

Hey, look, it's all right.

We can go back inside.

So it got hot,
got a little rough...

maybe it was an accident.
No,

when I woke up,
she's in the pool.

I'm done listening to this kid.

Do you guys remember those
lacrosse players from Duke?

The media ruined their
lives, and you're

about to do
the exact same thing to me.

Please don't do this.

No, Brady, you did this.

Let's go, Frank.

Dr. Mercier!

Hey. Little early
for the night shift, isn't it?

I'm covering
for Dr. Loman.

He's teaching yet another
seminar at Dade U.

Good to see you, Walter.
Dr. Mercier.

Miss Boa Vista.

Well, that's classy...

our football star tossed
the Vic in the pool

right next to their love
den from last night.

Does she have a name?

Yeah, Kristen Banks.

She's one of the
bottle girls here.

Bottle girl.

Most dangerous job

in South Beach, no offense.

Bottle girls
make you feel like a king

when the party's poppin' off.

They're also the
first ones to blame

when you look at your
bill the next day.

No truer words.

So, what do you think?

Think she actually drowned?

There's fluid in her lungs.

Could it have been an accident?

Not with this.

She has double lividity.

Died on her back,
flipped her to her front.

We're in Hinksville.

One.

Hey...

guys.

I got a cell phone here.

Could belong to our Vic.

Damn, it's waterlogged.

Could take hours to dry out.

Maybe not.

Does anybody know where
the ladies' room is?

Can you move any faster?

Girls' room making
you a little nervous?

My big sisters used to drag me
into these when I was a kid.

I just never know
where to look.

I'd say probably the
ceiling's your best bet.

Not if you're three feet tall.

Oh, look at that...
it actually worked!

This is definitely
Kristen's phone.

When was the last contact?

Let's see.

Hmm. That's kind of weird,
there's no texts.

But the last phone call
was to Sara Walker...

for two minutes at 1:26 A.M.

I shouldn't have
let her go with Brady.

You spoke to Kristen
last night at 1:26 A.M.

She wanted me
to cover her tables.

She was stepping off the floor.

Look, I-I really have to go.

I have to pick up
my son at school.

How old is he?

He's six.

What's his name?

Lucas.

Kristen wanted me
to sign her out

so that she could
stay with Brady.

Out at the cabana.

Did you ever go
out there, Sara?

No.

No, I'm-I'm really sorry.

I wish I could be more help.

Sara.

How'd you get those scrapes
on your arm?

My son... he, he, um,
he really hates sunscreen.

Look, I...

I really have to go.

We'll talk soon, okay?

Yeah, thanks.

What do you mean,
she didn't drown?

In the pool.

She didn't drown in the pool.

There was no chlorinated water
in her lungs.

So what is in her lungs?

Alcohol...
her stomach was filled with it.

So she shotgunned a bottle
of alcohol.

No, no, this was definitely
forced onto her.

Lower right crown over second
premolar has been chipped.

It takes a lot of force
to do that.

The bottle was jammed into
her mouth until she drowned.

Then someone dropped her
into the pool.

Do you want to, uh,
head to the cabana,

see if you can't find
that crown?

Yeah, why don't you see if you
can find out what kind

of alcohol killed her?
Will do.

That's a great catch, Victoria.
I know.

Thank me later.

Come on.

Come on, get in here.

Lift your arms.

What are you guys looking for?

Alcohol runoff.

Runoff?

Yeah, runoff. It only stands
to reason you'd have some

on you after you rammed the
bottle down Kristen's throat.

Turn around.

I told you
I never bought alcohol.

Didn't buy, you picked it up off a
table; doesn't really matter to me.

All that matters to me
is what you did with it.

Whatever he did with it, he
didn't do in these clothes.

I told you, man.

Can I go now?

No, you can't go now.

This isn't a bed and breakfast.

You don't come and go
as you please.

You're hiding something,

so you're going to sit
in this cage and rot

until I figure out
what it is. Okay?

Let's go.

Hey, Cal.

Hey. Yeah, I don't mean to interrupt
your bar tabs or anything,

but can you help me out with this?
Sure.

Does that really say
$15,000 in bar tab?

It's a baseball player and his
friends, and you're not going

to believe it, but
that is actually cheap.

The average bar tab
last night was $21,000

for four bottles of liquor.

The markup is astounding.
And so...

hot girls pushing it is
somehow more worthwhile?

I guess so.

What have you got
on Kristen's phone?

I have tried to dry out
the battery twice.

I've tried every shortcut
I know, and I

cannot pull up the texts on this
thing, so I was wondering

if you could help me out.
I've got to get

to Eric at the crime scene.
I'll run a SIM search.

Thanks, babe.
You're welcome.

I didn't force Kristen
to do anything.

But you're the owner of the
club and therefore her boss.

Yeah, I turned this place

from just another bar
into the hottest club

in South Beach inside a year.

"I'm not doing this,
it's not right."

Well, maybe she didn't want
to talk her quarterback

into buying the top-shelf
liquor, but that's the job.

That's the job in which
you gain all the profits.

The girls do just fine.

I guess the same can't be said
of Kristen, can it?

I'm sorry she's dead.

When are you gonna get out of
here and give me back my club?

When I know how you figured
in to Kristen's death.

Okay?

I've been testing
the stomach contents

the M.E. sent
up here.

It's champagne.

So you think you can identify

the exact champagne
that was forced into her?

Not by name, no,
but by year, yes.

Using radioactive
carbon isotopes

prevalent in the champagne,
I can determine a vintage.

Here. Um...

Grapes... capture

tiny amounts

of carbon-14,

a radioactive isotope

that occurs naturally
from cosmic Rays.

The thing is,
C-14 ratios

in the atmosphere have
varied dramatically,

especially since the 1940s.

Let me guess... nuclear testing.

Precisely.

Atomic explosions

between the late '40s and 1963

significantly increase
C-14 levels in the atmosphere.

Thusly, wine made
in these years

will have much higher levels
than before or after.

So...

what happened after 1963?

Our penchant for

fossil fuels has since diluted
that carbon-14 in the atmosphere,

giving us different benchmarks.

So can you give us a vintage

for the champagne
that the killer used?

Levels of C-14 here
are consistent with levels

in wine from 1957.

1957... you sure
about that?

That's a rare bottle of
champagne you're looking for.

I hope this helped narrow down
your search, guys.

You know, the bottles
at the Dorset

are electronically tracked.

Then all we needed was the date.

Thanks, Travers.

Richard Ellison.

That's right,
who the hell are you?

Beat it, gentlemen.

I'm Lieutenant Caine.

Mr. Ellison, you were
at the Dorset last night.

Yeah, I was entertaining
clients. Had a good time.

You ordered
a very expensive champagne.

'57 Pierre Jousset... good stuff.

That champagne killed
Kristen Banks.

I had a glass, so I killed her?

Witnesses stated

you were wearing a
suit at the Dorset.

Where is the jacket that
you wore last night?

It's at a dry cleaners
in Bal Harbour... French place.

You're welcome to check it out.

I will.

Hey.

You can grab the drink
and that's it.

You understand?

Take it easy, Sara.

Don't make me look bad
in front of my clients.

Sara.

What are you doing here?

Being a bottle girl
is a 24-7 job.

Richard spent $25K
on liquor last night.

I have to keep my clients happy

and I have to keep
the boss happy.

That's how I keep working.

You don't have to do this.

I do.

My son... that's what
gets me through this.

I can help you.

Sure...

Uh, I can't.

I can't implicate anyone.

The guys who go to the Dorset
are very powerful people.

Sara!

Sara?

Drinks?

Sara.

I-I have to go.
I understand.

Sara.

You know, I didn't
find a bottle anywhere,

and I'm not finding
any champagne runoff.

I still can't find
the victim's missing crown.

You know,
if our quarterback did shove

that bottle of champagne
down her throat,

I don't think he did it here.

Witnesses confirmed
seeing them leave together,

the busboy
saw them come in here, and then

he didn't see her again
until she was in the pool.

So where the hell did he do it?

It's not where, it's when.

Come on.
Okay.

You know, when I worked scuba,
we'd occasionally come across

a condition called
delayed drowning.

Right, when liquid seeps
into the lungs

and the victim
doesn't realize it.

Yeah, we'd pick people
from the canal...

they'd be walking, talking.

Three hours later,
they were dead.

They drowned.

The champagne goes
into the stomach.

A bodily reaction happens
that sends it into the lungs.

The champagne
and the body's own acid

cause the lungs to swell,

drowning her in her own fluid.

The whole process can take
several hours.

So that's why we didn't find
any champagne out in the cabana.

No, it's because Kristen
was still in this club

when it was forced
down her throat.

Yeah, I'll hold.

Nothing on a Richard Ellison?

Yeah, that's good advice,
but I've already tried

the two dry cleaners
in your area.

How about
under a different name?

Yeah, uh, witness said it was
a gray, double-vented plaid,

whatever the hell that is.

All right.

If something comes up,
uh, give us a call.

Thanks.

Yeah, I'll get that
call when pigs fly.

Richard Ellison giving us
the runaround?

Yeah.

Time to get a warrant.
Tried that

first time I struck out
with the dry cleaner.

Judge said there's no cause.

No cause? The guy bought
the bottle of champagne

that killed Kristen Banks
and he's hiding his own clothes.

What else do we need?
You're preaching

to the choir, Walter.

Find something that gets us on
Ellison's yacht, let me know.

CSI Wolfe, is it true
you almost killed yourself

during a foot Chase
through downtown this morning?

Erica Sikes.
Ryan.

You look well.

Thanks.

You look pretty good, too.

Is it true?

Uh, yeah, there was
a Chase this morning.

There was a police Chase.

I ran, I miscalculated,
I stopped, I slid.

It was more of a stop-slide.

That's not even a real thing.

No, it's not.

Anyways, what do you care?

The last time I checked,

entertainment reporters
weren't interested

in police chases.

Well, I'm just following up
on the murder at the Dorset.

You have a time of
death on the victim?

Oh, Erica, you've been
in the business long enough

to know that I can't comment
on an ongoing case.

Why?

You're lucky we go way back.

Someone's shopping this around.

It's a photo of Kristen Banks.

She's the victim.
Yeah.

And maybe the killer.
His arm, at least.

I just want to know if she's
dead here, or just sleeping.

Where'd you get this?

Third party.

You know I can't
reveal my sources.

Word is, the guy that's
cropped out is Brady Jensen.

And judging by your
reaction, it is.

Everyone knows you
have him in custody.

Yeah. This is
a hot case.

You give me
till the end of the day, okay?

You've got till 3:00.

Seem familiar, gentlemen?

Where did you get that?

From a news reporter. In fact,
that photo is being shopped

to every media outlet
from here to the West Coast.

What?

Who took this?

I believe you did, Chip.

You son of a bitch! You said you
were gonna take care of this,

that I didn't have anything
to worry about.

Sit down! What did you think?

You gonna blackmail him
into being your new client?

I didn't take this photo.

And yet, here it is, Chip.

You said, my friend,

that she was gone when
you woke up in the cabana, so,

the photograph confirms
you were lying.

Yeah, all right, I lied.

When I woke up, Kristen was
on the bed with me,

and he was there.

Hey, kid, wake up.

Wake up!

This girl's lights out.
What the hell did you do?

I didn't do anything.
She was already dead.

I wanted to call the paramedics,

but he convinced me not to.

We have to call 911.

She's dead.

You call the cops, you go
from number one draft pick

to number one murder suspect.

Oh, man.

I screwed up.
What am I gonna do?

It sounds like
you need representation.

Here's how this works.

I help you, you sign with me.

You got it?

Great. Welcome to the family.

I'll take care of this.

I know it was the wrong thing.
I just...

I didn't know what to do.
If I were you,

I'd look into signing
with a new Agent.

So would I, because this one's
under arrest.

I moved a dead body.

That's it.

Was no killing, no photos.

No killing, no photos.

No bail.

Call Delko, please.

He's gonna want to see this.

Still missing half a crown
out there somewhere.

Found one half.

Thought I found the other,
but it turned out to be...

Confetti.

Metalized PVC,
but yeah, confetti.

This aspirated into her lungs,
which means

that it traveled down her
throat with the champagne.

Kind of blows your case
right open.

Twice... in one day.
I'm just saying.

The Dorset.

This is CSI Eric Delko,

MDPD. Need to ask
you a question.

What time does the confetti drop
there at the Dorset every night?

Is this a joke?

No, this isn't a joke.

If you don't want to be charged
with hindering a murder

investigation, you know,
just answer my question.

What time?

Uh, midnight.

Every night?

Midnight every night.

Okay, thank you.
What's with...?

Actually might have
just given us a timeline

for when Kristen began dying.

When the confetti was released.

Midnight.

Tell me something good.

Okay. I just got the time
of the inciting incident.

All right, I'll take it.

Well, the computer receipts

say that the champagne
was delivered

to Ellison at 11:57 P.M.,

so it has to be
sometime after that.

It was. The confetti
in Kristen's lungs

puts her inside the club
exactly at midnight

when the champagne
was forced on her.

Okay. I'm guessing you want to take
a look at the VIP seating chart?

I do.

Well, I tell you what... I will
look at the hard copies,

and I will call you
after I've done it.

All right, that's great.
Thanks. Mm-hmm.

All right, raise it up
a quarter turn, Ryan.

And then tilt it down
just a smidge.

Just a smidge, huh?

This day and age with all the
technology at our fingertips,

we're still referring
to things in smidges,

skoshes.

Incidentally, this is
the same camera used

to take a picture of
Brady and Kristen?

Well, yeah.

The software uses

height analysis algorithms

to estimate the height
of the photographer.

Can it estimate
to the nearest smidge?

Positive.

Every digital photo
contains EXIF data,

which includes the type
of camera used.

In this case, a 12.2
megapixel Notron camera.

Can you tilt it forward
just a tad?

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
There it is.

The exact height and the angle
the photographer used.

There are a million different
ways to hold a camera,

but at the end of the day,
you've got to be able

to see what you're shooting.

So, using the angle
of the camera,

I can determine the eye line.

Looks like our photographer was
five feet, three inches tall.

Well, that eliminates
Brady's Agent.

Chip Ford is six feet tall.

I'm guessing
it's definitely not a guy.

Not a guy.
We're looking for a girl.

All we have to go on
is the height.

You know, one of
the bottle girls knew

that Brady and Kris
were down at the cabana.

Let's start with her.

So you took that
photograph of Kristen and Brady.

And I point that out

because you told me
you'd never been at the cabana.

Oh, God.

I didn't know she was dead.

Why'd you take the photograph?

If I didn't,
I was gonna get fired.

Because that's how Amanda rolls.

She makes all of
us take pictures.

Actors, athletes.

You know, Sara,
that's called extortion.

No. It's like
we're her own private paparazzi.

The whole idea of getting
the guys drunk

is for the pictures.

And the tabloids.

I'm caught.

There is no way out.

All I can think of is
what happens to my son

if I end up like Kristen?

So you supplied the girls

with cameras?

Well, anyone can take pictures
outside the club.

It's the stuff that goes on

inside that the gossip
mags really want.

Like the number one draft pick
in bed with a bottle girl.

Especially if said draft pick
is saving himself for marriage.

You know what I think?

I think Kristen got sick
of doing your dirty work.

I think Kristen got a sudden
crush on the quarterback.

Which was what her text
was about, wasn't it?

"I'm not doing this"?

Come on.

Brady was just too big a fish.

I couldn't pass up
an opportunity like that.

Sara, need you to go
to the private cabana

and take some snaps of
Kristen and Brady, mid-action.

I thought Kristen was supposed
to be doing that.

Well, I'm not paying
you for your thoughts.

Do your job.

Whether it's police evidence
or full access,

the picture's out there,

and my club's standing room only
for the next six months.

Because a picture of a dead girl
with a choir boy quarterback

would be a homerun for
this club, wouldn't it?

You're accusing me
of killing her?

Turn on your confetti, please.

What is it with you guys
and the confetti?

Turn it on.

So, Kristen inhales champagne

with a side of
confetti at midnight,

unaware she's drowning herself,

then heads out to a cabana

for some alone time with Brady.

Where she's dead by morning.

Right, she's a victim
of a delayed drowning,

but not by the pool, which
is what we found her in.

But Brady and his Agent insist
they had nothing to do

with Kristen or the champagne.

Yeah, well,
they still conspired to make

her death look
like an accident.

Natalia, what do you have?

Well, Calleigh pulled up
the seating chart

from last night, but not with
a whole lot of expectation.

Well, not so.
You know, at the Dorset,

where it's 20 grand a table,
you tend to stay in one place.

Well, thanks to Horatio, we also
know that the confetti does, too.

The what's... The what, now?

Each mortar shoots a
different color over every table, so,

silver got shot
over a baseball phenom's table.

Green was
for a real estate mogul.

Blue was for our quarterback
from last night.

And gold was reserved
for one table.

Richard Ellison's.

Stop it!

Come on, have a drink on me.

Stop it! Sure you don't
want some more, huh?

Huh?

Get off of me!

You know, he bought
that bottle of champagne

at three minutes
before midnight.

He had to have forced
it on her right there.

Let's prove it.

Because I spilled champagne

on myself?

You did more than that.

There we go.

Well, this is no crown,

but this does put you
in the VIP area

at midnight.

Of course I was;
It was my table.

Kristen and I
were just having fun.

Just having a little fun, huh?

Well, there's no crown on him,

but he's got champagne all
over his shoes. Yeah.

Amazing how much
of that stuff people waste.

Toss it around

without a care in the world.

Fun, right?

You know, it takes 150 PSI
to displace a crown, HM?

That was fun for you?

You sure you don't
want some more?

Get off of me!

She was my bottle girl.

She worked my parties,
she took care of me.

All of a sudden, she starts
acting like I'm a nobody.

All that money I spent, and she
thinks she can just drop me?

So yes, I may have gotten a
little rowdy with her, okay.

I told you, I'm not
your girl anymore.

I need to get back
to my other client.

No, he went to the
little boys' room.

Why don't you stay,
have a drink?

Wait, huh?

Come on.

The girl humiliated you,

and you wanted to do
the same to her.

It stopped when she ran away.

She was fine.
She was not fine.

She died from
the champagne hours later.

I never meant to hurt her.
It's called...

involuntary manslaughter.

I could go to prison for this?

I don't think you
understand the situation.

Your actions killed the girl.

This is about Sara, isn't it?

If you ever contact Sara again,

I'll find you

and deal with you myself.

Okay?

Sources say that this arm

belongs to All-American
football star Brady Jensen.

Brady Jensen in bed
with a dead woman.

Just how does he
bounce back from that?

Can he bounce back from that?

Looks like he's
just being released

from police custody... let's see
if we can get an interview.

Brady, Erica Sikes,
Full Access.

Is it true that
your Agent attempted

to cover the murder of Kristen Banks?
He's not my Agent.

So you're saying you had nothing
to do with the murder? No.

Do you have anything
to say to your fans,

to those who've
looked up to you?

Erica, I made some
terrible choices.

It's a long, hard
road back for me.

But my name and career
are insignificant

compared to what
happened to Kristen.

If I have any fans
left out there,

I'd ask that you think
of her family

before you waste time
looking at a photo

that Erica bought
with blood money.

You're not a journalist,
you're a jackal.

That was, uh...

Wow. A jackal.

I have never seen her
speechless before.

Hey.
Hey.

So, you're out of here?

Yep, I'm leaving.

I'm gonna go have
dinner with a friend.

A friend, huh?

Trying to have a life outside

of this place?

I'm trying.

It's none of my business.

Well, sure it is.

We're friends.

That's the kind of thing
that friends talk about.

Yeah, I guess they do.

You know,
I love you like family.

Yeah, I know.

That's what we are, right?

Absolutely.

Have a good night.
You, too.

Kristen and I,
we were a lot alike.

We... we weren't
cut out for this.

Every day was
another compromise,

another... demand.

You gonna be okay?

Yeah. I'm gonna
take us back home,

focus on my son, not clients.

You don't have to pay
for our trip.

Don't worry about it.

What about Kristen?

What about her body?

Kristen will go home, too,
and rest in peace.

Maybe her family
will find comfort

in knowing that you
caught the killer.

That's the hope.

Thank you.

Come on, sweetie.

Take care of your mom.

Okay?

Hey, Sara?

You take care.

Let's go.