05x12 - Snakes

[bunniefuu]

COLD OPEN:

[EXT. VARIOUS LAS VEGAS CITY (STOCK) - DAY]

CUE MUSIC: SPANISH MUSIC

[EXT. STREET - DAY]

(From the POV of a car driving by, we pass two kids walking along the sidewalk.)

RESUME VIEW

(A boy sits in the back of a truck with his sandy-colored dog. The boy knocks on the glass and motions for the people in the cab to raise the volume for the music on the radio. The driver increases the volume to the kid's satisfaction. He nods his approval and goes back to petting his dog.)

(They continue passing by the town's shops and the people out for a morning walk.)

(The truck continues to move down the road. The driver slows the truck down and pulls over curbside. The kid in the back of the truck jumps out and grabs a stack of papers from the back.)

(The current paper is an issue of HOY with the headline, "Carreras Mortales".)

(The boy opens the paper dispenser and puts in the paper.)

(Various cuts of: People standing in front of a shop and a shop owner pulling in a display.)

(Cut to: The truck pulls up curbside. The boy jumps out of the back of the truck and grabs a stack of papers. He puts the papers on top of the dispenser and takes out a coin. He puts the coin in the dispenser and opens the door.)

(Inside is a severed head, bald and bloodied.)

(The kid gasps.)

CUT TO:
[EXT. CURBSIDE - STREET - DAY]

(Catherine works at unscrewing the base of the paper dispenser with an electric power tool.)

(Nick snaps photos of the other paper dispensers.)

(A crowd has gathered right outside of the crime scene tape. They line the streets watching them work.)

(Det. Sam Vega talks with the people watching.)

Catherine finishes and the dispenser is raised off the sidewalk.)

(The coroners carry the dispenser away.)

DISSOLVE TO:

[INT. CSI - FORENSIC AUTOPSY - DAY]

(Doc Robbins carries the severed head and places it in a pan.)

INTERCUT WITH:

[INT. CSI - LAB - DAY]

(Dissolve to: Nick puts on a pair of latex gloves. Behind them in the lab is the paper dispenser. Camera pushes in on the blood spatter on the top-most paper, right under the headline: Carreras Mortales.)

(Camera flashes of: Doc Robbins works on the head. He injects a syringe into the head.)

(Back in the lab, Nick removes the stack of papers in the dispenser.)

(Catherine holds the camera and watches Doc Robbins take a swab of the head's nose. She snaps a photo.)

(Nick removes a wrapper from the dispenser. He drops a couple of coins on the lab table next to him.)

(Catherine continues to snap photos as Dr. Robbins works. He opens the head's mouth and looks inside.)

(With his forceps, he pulls out a long, thin, dead snake.)

(Catherine's jaw drops at the sight.)

(Dr. Robbins turns and looks at Catherine.)

(Camera lingers on the dead snake.)

FADE TO END OF TEASER ROLL TITLE CREDITS

(COMMERCIAL BREAK)

---

FADE IN.

[INT. CSI - FORENSIC AUTOPSY -- DAY]

(Robbins goes over the head with Catherine.)

Robbins: Female, early 30s, Hispanic descent, vitreous potassium was 11.74 milli-equivalents per liter, so PMI's approximately six hours.

Catherine: So time of death roughly 1:00 A.M.

(Robbins nods.)

Catherine: C.O.D.?

Robbins: From what I got here, I can't tell you much. Minimal dilation in the pupils indicates decapitation was postmortem. (He points to the scalp.) Scalp shows naked follicles without hairs, no inflammation around them indicates removal was postmortem as well.

Catherine: Ripped out in chunks.

(Quick flash of: Hair being ripped out from the scalp. End of flash. Resume to present.)

Robbins: Takes time and dedication to do something like that.

Catherine: And a lot of hatred. So her eyebrows have been shaved off and drawn back on with eyeliner. I know that's popular among Latinos in 28th Street. She could be a banger or a girlfriend of one.

Robbins: Well, either way, at least she took good care of her teeth.

(Robbins hands her the victim's bridgework. On the inside is a set of numbers:
942774274.)

Catherine: What is that, nine digits? Social Security number.

Robbins: Dentists usually put on some form of identification on removable bridgework. It's better than a license plate.

CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - LAB -- NIGHT]

(Nick is working on the top-most newspaper. He's dusting for prints. He finds a couple of prints. He uses both his hands and motions as if placing the head in the middle of the paper. The sides of his hands are touching the paper.)

(Quick flash of: The k*ller puts the head down on the paper, the sides of his hands touching the paper. End of flash. Resume to present.)

CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - HALLWAY - DAY]

(Nick and Catherine walk down the hallway as Nick reports to Catherine.)

Nick: Pulled a couple of likely palm prints on the newspaper the head was on, but I don't think that's going to be our best bet.

Catherine: Okay, start with those, but make sure you run the partials off the box as well 'cause I got Ecklie looking over my shoulder, so, uh ...

Nick: Cover your ass.

(Nick heads off in another direction.)

Catherine: Yes.

Nick: My pleasure.

CUT TO:
[INT. - DAY]

(Jesse Menken examines the snake while Nick watches.)

Jesse Menken: Large, elevated vertebral scales. Definitely not your typical U.S. Crotalus.

Nick: Herpetologists always throwing the Latin around. What's wrong with just calling him "rattlesnake"?

Jesse Menken: My specialty, my jargon. Stripes at the base of the neck makes it crotalus simus, indigenous to southern coastal Mexico.

Nick: Apparent Mexican vic on a Mexican newspaper with a Mexican snake. You don't find a whole lot of these buzz-worms around Vegas anyway, do you?

Jesse Menken: Nowhere outside a zoo. These snakes like to burrow in damp soil. They like it hot and humid. We're hot and dry. For a snake, big difference.

Nick: What are the chances that thing just crawled in their on its own?

Jesse Menken: (scoffs) In a newspaper dispenser in the middle of a desert city? No way. I think it was dead when it was shoved down the victim's throat.

CUT TO:
[EXT. LAS VEGAS CITY LIGHTS (STOCK) - NIGHT]

[EXT. ROOFTOP PARKING LOT -- NIGHT ]

(Warrick walks toward the crime scene.)

Brass: The only car up here. Security called it in.

Warrick: Is that a handicap van?

Brass: Dead guy's in the driver's seat.

Warrick: Any witnesses?

Brass: Nope. And no surveillance either. We ain't on the strip, baby. Five hundred bucks and a Nevada license. Vincent Decarlo, 28.

(Warrick takes the bag with the ID information inside from Brass. He puts his kit down near the open front passenger door.)

(Inside, David Phillips takes down the body stats.)

Warrick: It's an expensive-looking Italian suit just to be a chauffeur.

(Warrick checks the back of the van.)

Warrick: It's a wheelchair. Any indication he's handicapped?

(David Phillips looks.)

David Phillips: He's not wearing prosthetics and his soles are worn.

Warrick: Somebody's missing their wheels.

David Phillips: g*nsh*t wound to the head. Looks like it came through the windshield.

(They both turn and look at the hole in the windshield. Outside, Sofia appears on the hood and examines the hole in the windshield.)

Sofia Curtis: Crater on the windshield faces out. Which means that the sh*t came from inside the van.

(She looks at the g*n hole and notices that it lines up with the wheelchair in the back of the van.)

(Sofia visualizes what happened.)

CGI VIEW

(Backward motion. The hole in the windshield slowly fixes itself.)

(A g*n fires.)

(The virtual b*llet breaks through camera frame and heads for the windshield.)

(Close-up: From the outside of thewindshield, the b*llet bursts through the glass.)

(End of CGI slow motion. Resume to present.)

(Warrick looks at Sofia, surprised to see her there.)

Sofia Curtis: Swing's tapped out. Catherine asked if I could lend a hand.

Warrick: Thanks.

(Sofia walks around to the back of the van.)

(Warrick notices a spot of blood on the victim's lapel.)

Warrick: You see that blood spot on the lapel? It's inconsistent with the head wound. To avoid cross-contamination, you think you could cut that out for me?

David Phillips: Oh, sure.

(Sofia climbs in to the back of the van and looks at the dead body from behind.)

Sofia Curtis: Possible GSR.

(Quick close-up to: The GSR on the back of the chair.)

Sofia Curtis: Which means the sh*t was fired from the wheelchair.

Warrick: How'd he sh**t him in the face?

Sofia Curtis: Hey, Vinnie.

(Quick flash of: Vincent Decarlo turns around to look behind. End of flash.)

(Sofia holds out her index finger as if holding a g*n pointed at the driver. She mimics sh**ting the g*n at the driver.)

(Quick flash of: Vincent Decarlo is sh*t and the b*llet exits out the front windshield.)

(End of flashes. Resume to present.)

Warrick: So we got a guy who fired a sh*t from a wheelchair and then escaped on foot.

CUT TO:
[EXT. NEW YORK CITY LIGHTS (STOCK) -- NIGHT

[INT. JUAREZ RESIDENCE - NIGHT]

(Det. Sam Vega shows Nick and Catherine into the apartment.)

Det. Sam Vega: Social came back on the dental work of Veronica Juarez. No immediate family in the states. Apartment's leased in her name.

(He picks up a framed photo off the nearby shelf.)

Catherine: Well, that's why bangers have girlfriends; sign things they can't.

Nick: This is a pretty nice place. A long way from 28th Street.

Catherine: Sure is.

(Catherine picks up a framed photo of two women. Sam Vega finds something.)

Det. Sam Vega: Catherine, Nick.

(Nick and Catherine walk over to him. He points to the degree hanging on the wall from the University of Texas El Paso to Veronica Juarez in Bachelor of Science - Communication.)

Catherine: Gangbanger girlfriend with a degree?

Nick: Sounds like a rock band.

(They continue to look around. Catherine uses the ALS on the bedspread. Nick picks up a digital camera off the desk and looks at the photos.)

Nick: Hey, Vega? Check out these pics.

(Det. Sam Vega walks over to Nick.)

Nick: Think she liked to party?

Det. Sam Vega: That barely looks like the same girl.

Nick: I know.

Det. Sam Vega: I'm going to check out the kitchen.

Nick: Okay.

(Vega walks away.)

Catherine: Well, there's no signs of sexual activity.

(Catherine opens the bedside table drawer. She finds something.)

Catherine: Oh, hang on now.

(She takes out a small plastic bag with something inside.)

Nick: That looks like pure crystal meth.

Catherine: You could be up for a week straight on that stuff and not even know it.

Nick: Perfect drug for this town.

(Sam Vega walks out of the kitchen holding a piece of paper.)

Det. Sam Vega: Hey, you think that our vic was a groupie?

(He shows the Extremo poster to them.)

Catherine: Looks like a mariachi band with a*tillery.

Det. Sam Vega: I had a big dose of them when I worked with a g*ng unit in LA.

Catherine: The band?

Det. Sam Vega: The scumbags who listen to that music. Sinaloa cowboys. Big drug producers.

Catherine: Okay. We've got a female victim with a degree, Mexican artwork, dr*gs and Sinaloan cowboys.

CUT TO:
[EXT. CLUB - NIGHT]

(Det. Sam Vega and Nick exit the parked car and head for the club.)

[INT. CLUB - NIGHT]

(The place is crowded. The band on stage sings.)

Lyric: no me puedes negar, lo que te hago sentir no me puedes negar lo que sientes por mi

(The song ends; the crowd applauds.)

(The club owner shouts to the already hyped-up crowd.)

Club Owner: (shouts) Que paso, que paso,que paso?! Hacienda corona! Como estan, como estan, como estan, como estan todos? Que bueno, que bueno, que bueno! Otra cancion! Otra cancion!

(The band sings another song.)

Lyric: Yo me paso las noches tomando quierendo olvidar su recuerdo buena aquella noche maldita ...

(Det. Sam Vega and Nick walk into the club and head over to the bar. Vega shows him Veronica Juarez' DMV photo.)

Det. Sam Vega: Carnal, conoces esta muchacha? Sordo, contestame!

Juanito Concha (barback): That's Carla.

Nick: Carla? Not Veronica?

Juanito Concha (barback): Nah. The girl in the picture there told me her name was Carla.

Det. Sam Vega: Yeah, well, the bouncer says that she hangs out here a lot.

Juanito Concha (barback): Yeah, I guess so. Yeah.

(Nick turns and listens to Extremo on stage.)

Lyric: ...Que por ser poderoso que mi vida jamas pasaria

(He turns back to the bartender.)

Nick: She, uh, friends with the band?

Juanito Concha (barback): I don't know about friends. I mean, her and every other girl in here jocks 'em. I mean, Extremo, bro, they're the best. Come on.

(Vega and Nick listen to Extremo.)

Lyric: Yo soy malo
y no puedo negar
que desde me acuerdo
no he sido
la vieja resulto
mentirosa...

Nick: I know my Spanish is a little rusty, but I think he just said, "She was a liar, she wasn't who she said she was."

Lyric: ... Pero en cambio le robe su vida

Det. Sam Vega: "She stole my heart, so I stole her life."

Lyric: ...Otra vibora por ser...

Nick: "I met the snake ... eat a snake."

FADE OUT.

(COMMERCIAL BREAK)

---

FADE IN.

[INT CLUB -- NIGHT]

(The segment just ended. The crowd applauds and the club owner is shouting into the mike.)

Club Owner: Otra cancion! Otra cancion!

(Extremo steps off the stage.)

CUT TO:
[INT. CLUB - BACKSTAGE - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS]

(Nick and Vega wait to talk with the lead singer. As the band files out the stage and through the hallway, fan girls crowd the doorway shouting for them.)

(Vega stops the lead singer.)

Det Sam Vega: LVPD. We need to talk.

Rafael Salinas (lead singer): Leave your card, I'll send you a picture and autograph, huh?

(He slaps Nick on his arm, then turns to continue down the hallway. Nick chuckles following him.)

Nick: That's not really what I'm after, my man.

(The manager stops Nick from following Rafael Salinas, the lead singer, into the back room with the rest of the band.)

Manager: Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Nick: Excuse me.

Manager: I'm their manager. El Jefe. You want to ask my band questions, you can ask me first.

Nick: Great. What can you tell us about the song they just played?

Manager: What do you want to know?

Nick: Quite frankly, the lyrics are very similar to a homicide we're investigating.

Manager: That narco-corrido was written ten years ago. It's a classic. (to Vega) Surprised you haven't heard it.

Det. Sam Vega: I don't listen to crap about doing dr*gs and k*lling cops.

(Someone comes up to the manager and says something to him. The man leaves. The manager turns to Nick and Vega.)

Manager: Why don't you buy a CD on the way out. All right?

(The manager tries to leave. Nick stops him.)

Nick: Yeah, I might do that. Listen, one more thing, if you could. (Nick shows him the photo.) This girl, you know who she is?

Manager: That's Carla. She's dead?

Nick: Yeah.

Manager: That's too bad.

Nick: Yeah.

Manager: She was a loyal fan. She knew the words to every song we did.

Nick: Anything else?

Det. Sam Vega: Yeah. Your name and number.

CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - GRISSOM'S OFFICE - NIGHT]

(Sara walks up to Grissom's office and knocks on the door.)

Sara: (smiles) Hi.

(She steps inside. Grissom looks up and takes his glasses off.)

Sara: You got a minute?

Grissom: Sure.

Sara: We really haven't had a chance to talk since the staff changes. (She sits down.) I, uh ... I wanted to let you know that I said some things to Ecklie that might have done the team a disservice.

Grissom: Ecklie wanted to break up the team and he did.

Sara: He asked me if you and I had had our post-P-E-A-P counseling session.

Grissom: And we didn't. Regardless, you should never have to cover for your boss. I'm sorry.

Sara: You've always been a little more than a boss to me.

(She gives him a small smile.)

Sara: Why do you think I moved to Vegas? Look, I know our relationship has been complicated. It's probably my fault. It's probably definitely my fault.

Grissom: You, uh, completed your counseling, right?

Sara: Yeah. Yes.

Grissom: And ... ?

Sara: Let's just say that ... I sometimes ... I look for validation in inappropriate places.

(They lapse into silence.)

Grissom: Look ... let's, um ...

(Again, they lapse into silence.)

Sara: It's okay. Okay. You know what, we did our session. Don't forget to document this for Ecklie.

(She smiles.)

Grissom: Right.

Sara: Thanks.

(Sara stands up and leaves.)

(Camera holds on Grissom.)

CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - FORENSIC AUTOPSY -- NIGHT]

(Robbins goes over his findings with Warrick and Sofia Curtis.)

Robbins: b*llet entered through the left zygomatic arch, then penetrated the brain, then fragmented up.

(He picks the b*llet out of the brain and shows it to them. He drops the b*llet into the tray.)

Sofia Curtis: The b*llet never exited?

Robbins: Not even close. The right ear injury is a separate wound unrelated to the entry in the face.

Warrick: So he was sh*t twice.

Robbins: Yeah, can you identify the w*apon off these?

(Robbins shows the b*ll*ts in the tray to them.)

Sofia Curtis: It's highly unlikely. The frags are too small. I'll go back to the scene, see if I can find the AWOL b*llet.

Warrick: All right.

(Sofia leaves.)

Robbins: So I hear you found a wheelchair.

Warrick: Yeah. No identifiable prints, only smudges.

Robbins: Did you check the serial number?

Warrick: No.

Robbins: You know, wheelchairs are registered with medical supply companies. It's not something the average person would know.

Warrick: Thanks. Good looking out.

(Warrick turns and leaves.)

CUT TO:
[EXT. LAS VEGAS CITY (STOCK) - DAY]

[EXT. RETIREMENT HOME - POOLSIDE - DAY]

(Brass and Warrick talk with the manager of the retirement home.)

Manager: Mrs. Bakerset's grandson bought her a top-of-the-line chair about a year ago after her stroke.

Brass: We need to talk to her.

Manager: I'm sorry, she passed away last week.

Warrick: Really? That's strange. We found her wheelchair at a crime scene downtown. Any idea how it got there?

Manager: No, no, no, Bonnie hadn't left here in at least six months. Her place is right over here.

(She leads them to the room.)

[INT. RETIREMENT HOME -- BAKERSET'S ROOM - DAY - CONTINUOUS]

(The door opens. The manager, Warrick and Brass step inside.)

Manager: When the residents pass, their property remains in the room until their family picks it up. Her grandson said he'd swing by next week.

(Inside the tiny room are lots of boxes, packages and shopping items still in their boxes.)

Manager: The woman loved to shop.

Brass: Yeah.

Manager: I'll see if I can get you some info on that wheelchair.

(The manager leaves. Warrick and Brass look around.)

Warrick: Loved to shop? Looks more like a compulsion.

Brass: Fly fishing rods ... air purification systems, vitamins, yoga tapes ... cleaning products ... most of these boxes have the same return address. N.Z.A., Inc. It's local. It's in Henderson.

(Just outside the large picture windows, a small group of curious elderly folks gather.)

Brass: Scumbag telemarketers.

(The man outside knocks on the window to get their attention. Brass turns around.)

Betsy Lewis: Yoo-hoo!

(Brass walks over to the window to open it.)

Brass: Watch your fingers.

(He slides the window open.)

Stuart Manslow: Excuse me ... what's going on?

Brass: And you are?

Stuart Manslow: Stuart Manslow.

Betsy Lewis: And I'm Betsy Lewis. You shouldn't be in here.

Brass: Well, Betsy, I'm Detective Jim Brass, Las Vegas police. And this is Warrick Brown with the crime lab.

Warrick: Hi, folks. Could you all tell me what's the deal with all these boxes?

Stuart Manslow: Buying things made Bonnie happy.

Betsy Lewis: After her husband d*ed, she was lost. Then a nice salesman kept calling. They would talk for hours. If you ask me, she liked the attention.

Warrick: Ma'am, do you know what happened to Bonnie's wheelchair?

(They look at each other.)

Stuart Manslow: It was a gift from her grandson.

Betsy Lewis: Yeah. He's not a doctor, but he does all right for himself.

CUT TO:
[EXT. LAS VEGAS CITY (STOCK) - DAY]

[EXT. ROOFTOP PARKING LOT - DAY]

(Sofia sets up a rod from the wheelchair through the hold in the windshield.)

Sofia Curtis: Off we go into the wild, blue yonder.

(Greg walks up to the back of the open van. He clears his throat. Sofia turns around.)

Sofia Curtis: Why are you here?

Greg: Grissom said it'd be okay for me to come help. I need the experience.

Sofia Curtis: Well, if we can't find the b*ll*ts, we find the shell casings.
(Greg nods.) I'm thinking the sh**t had the driver at gunpoint, forced him to drive up to the roof 'cause it was deserted.

(She looks at him and gets an idea.)

Sofia Curtis: Give me your pen.

(Greg hands her his pen.)

Sofia Curtis: You don't sh**t a man with the door open.

(She flicks the switch and closes the wheelchair ramp.)

Sofia Curtis: Keep your eye on this.

(Greg gets a little closer to the ramp door.)

(Quick flash of: A g*n fires. The shell casing pops out of the g*n. End of flash.)

(Sofia drops the pen cap. The pen cap falls down in between the ramp door.)

Sofia Curtis: You got it? The sh**t had to open the door when he took off.

(Sofia opens the wheelchair ramp door. As the ramp door opens, the pen cap is pushed down further into the van's sliding door.)

Greg: Okay, stop.

(Greg takes out the pen cap, then takes out the shell casing.)

Greg: Nine-millimeter.

Sofia Curtis: Photograph it.

CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - A/V LAB - DAY]

(Nick sits on the floor in the A/V lab and listens to Extremo music on the Diskman. He writes down the lyrics as he listens.)

(Catherine walks into the room and sees him. She rubs the back of his head to get his attention.)

Catherine: Hi.

Nick: Oh, hey.

Catherine: What is this?

Nick: Oh, it's, uh, it's an old case from San Diego.

(Catherine reads the lyrics.)

Catherine: "They were found the next dawn, in a dry river bed, their intestines exposed, and many cats feasting upon them."

Nick: Yeah, now you put that to music, sing it in Spanish, and you have a narcocorrido.

Catherine: Narco what?

Nick: A corrido is a Mexican ballad. A narcocorrido ...

Catherine: A drug ballad.

Nick: Kind of more or less, except their songs include actual events, like specific dates, names ... here. Come over here, check this out.

(Nick gets up and goes over to the computer. He brings up an old headline for the TODOS DIAS paper: "La Ultima Pieza del Rompecabeza", by Hilda C. Aguiar. Under it is a photo of a woman's severed head with a rattlesnake coming out of it.)

Nick: This girl was shacked up with a local drug lord. He dumps her, she rats him out to the authorities. The rest of the body was never found. But the song was a big hit.

Catherine: So apart from having her hair removed, Veronica Juarez's m*rder was life imitating art.

Nick: Yeah, and if that's the case, anyone who knows this song could ... could be the k*ller.

Catherine: We don't even know that much about the victim, other than she was somewhere between art lover and meth user.

(Without another word, Nick leaves the lab and heads into the evidence room. Perplexed, Catherine watches him go.)

[INT. CSI - EVIDENCE ROOM - DAY - CONTINUOUS]

(Nick takes out the evidence box and pulls out the Hoy paper found under the decapitated head. The paper is dated Enero.11.2005 and sold for 25 cents. The title of the front page article on the left is "Narco corridos: Asesinos de la cultura". In the center is a large bloodstain.)

(Catherine walks into the lab.)

Catherine: Something I said?

Nick: (distracted) Huh? Oh, no, no, no. Sorry. It was actually something I saw.

(He points to the byline: Veronica Juarez.)

CUT TO:
[INT. WAREHOUSE - DAY]

(Catherine and Nick talk with the editor of the paper.)

Editor: Veronica had been here since last summer. Maybe six months.

Catherine: We ran Ms. Juarez's social. She wasn't an employee.

Editor: She was more of a freelancer. The narco corridos piece was her first major story. Makes me sick to think she's not going to finish it.

Nick: She was working undercover?

Editor: She figured it was the only way to get these guys to open up to her. She was right.

Nick: Yeah, her article came down pretty hard on the music, huh?

Editor: Narcocorridos glamorize a criminal lifestyle.

(They turn into the main office.)

Editor: Veronica felt the songs were poisoning our young people. She used the intern's desk right there.

(He points to the desk. Nick puts on a glove and checks the computer. Catherine goes through the mail. The editor walks up to them.)

Editor: I warned her that it was a vicious subculture.

Catherine: Had she received any threats?

Editor: Well, there was this one incident right after part one was published.

(Quick flash of: A man carries a lit black candle through the office toward Veronica's desk.)

Man: (chanting) Nombre de jesus malverde ... nombre de jesus malverde ...

(He puts the candle down on the desk. Veronica gasps.)

Man: Silencio!

(End of flashback. Resume to present.)

Editor: We didn't call the cops, but it wasn't settling. I'm kind of superstitious.

(Nick opens the drawer door and finds a fingerprint on the candle.)

Nick: Good thing Veronica wasn't.

(He takes the black candle out of the back of the desk file drawer and shows it to Catherine.)

CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - PRINT LAB - DAY]

(Nick takes a mold of the print and scans it into the computer. He finds a match to (excerpt of contents on page):
LAS VEGAS POLICE
ELINDIO ZAPATA
DOB/09/18/51 SEX/M RAC/CAUCASIAN
HGT/508 WGT/158 EYE/BRO HAI/BRO POB/UNKNOWN
NAME/01 ZAPATA, ELINDIO
MON/MONCHIE
78566 AMBERS AVE., LV, NV8-

CUT TO:
[EXT. LAS VEGASC ITY (STOCK) - DAY]

[INT. STORE -- DAY]

(Det. Sam Vega and Nick enter the store.)

Det. Sam Vega: Hello?

(There's no answer. The door shuts behind them.)

Det. Sam Vega: LVPD.

(They look around the store.)

Det. Sam Vega: Anyone here?

(They hear mumbling coming from the back of the shop. Nick takes his g*n out.)

(Vega takes his g*n out.)

(In the back room, Elindio Zapata is kneeling on the ground in front of dozens of lit candles. Vega knocks on the door.)

Det. Sam Vega: Elindio Zapata.

(He pushes the beads over the door aside.)

Det. Sam Vega: Elindio Zapata.

Elindio Zapata: No hablo ingles.

Det. Sam Vega: Oh, De Veras? Well, that's funny, because the border patrol said you spoke perfect English.

(Elindio Zapata stands up and puts his hat on. He exits the room and looks at Vega.)

Det. Sam Vega: We're going to take a look around, coyote.

(Elindio walks past Nick.)

Elindio Zapata: You break it, you bought it.

(He heads for the front of the shop. Nick and Vega both holster their weapons. Nick sees a lit black candle. In the tray in front of the candle he sees a bone.)

Elindio Zapata: Vayate.

(Nick turns and looks back at Elindio.)

Elindio Zapata: That belongs to Jesus Malverde.

(He continues to look around and sees the jacket hanging on the clothes rack in the back. He glances at Vega.)

(Nick takes out his glove and puts it on. He looks at Elindio.)

(Quick flash of: [PHOTO] In the photo of Veronica Juarez, she is wearing a jacket with white fringe. End of flash.)

Det. Sam Vega: What do you got?

Nick: Veronica Juarez had a jacket just like this one. Minus the tire tracks.

(Nick takes the jacket over to Elindio.)

Nick: This jacket? It's coming with me. And you're going with him.

(We hear the sounds of handcuffs. Elindio looks at Vega. Nick looks at the jacket.)

FADE OUT.

(COMMERCIAL BREAK)

---

FADE IN.

[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT - INTERVIEW ROOM -- DAY]

(Det. Sam Vega and Nick interview Elindio Zapata.)

Det. Sam Vega: We know that you went to the newspaper office and you threatened her.

Elindio Zapata: Si, señor. I went to the oficina. Her mentals were going places they need not.

Nick: You want to tell me what this is?

(Nick shows him the photo of the bone.)

Elindio Zapata: Pollo bone. Religious. (He chuckles.) My right in America.

Nick: I don't know, it looks more like a human finger to me. It's been b*rned.

Elindio Zapata: Eyes can fool you.

Nick: That's right. That's why I do a lot of tests. And I'm also gonna match the blood found on Veronica's jacket right here.

(Nick taps the photo of Veronica's jacket.)

Elindio Zapata: I know nothing about this. Nice ... muchacho gave it to me.

Det. Sam Vega: Como se llama?

Elindio Zapata: Don't know name, only ... face. Cara. Mm, people give me things all the time.

Nick: Now, why would they do that?

Elindio Zapata: Maybe they like me. (He chuckles.) Or for proteccion. When you look at me, you see un hombre pobre, sucio. Poor, dirty man. Pero soy mas. I am much more. I am descendent ... of Jesus Malverde. God ... dios. Angel of the Poor.

Nick: The Mexican Robin Hood, a thief and a k*ller, hung May 3, 1909.

Elindio Zapata: He is the reason ... you cannot touch me. (He looks at Vega.)
No me puedes tocar.

Det. Sam Vega: You're a disgrace to our community. You're a greedy fence who will do or say anything to make a buck.

Elindio Zapata: No, señor. No, I may warn, I may protect, I may harm, I may do many things. But not for money.

Nick: Okay, hold out your hands -- we're gonna get some prints.

(Elindio holds out his hands. Nick takes out his kit.)

CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - LAB]

(Warrick examines Vincent Decarlo's clothes and possessions. He finds a piece of paper.)

(Sofia Curtis walks into the lab.)

Sofia Curtis: You got lucky with the bloodstained lapel. I didn't match the vic, but I got a hit in CODIS.

Warrick: Great. Dax Blanchard?

Sofia Curtis: as*ault and battery against a police officer in '96. Served two years. No current address.

Warrick: Thanks.

(Sofia leaves. Warrick dials his phone.)

Brass: Detective Jim Brass.

Warrick: (announcer's voice) Congratulations, Jim Brass. You're guaranteed one of these five amazing awards. Trip to London, ...

INTERCUT WITH:

[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT - BRASS' OFFICE - DAY]

Brass: (puzzled) Warrick?

Warrick: (announcer's voice) A brand-new caddy, tennis bracelet, plasma TV, water purification system. You finally did it, Jim. Just send NZA a check for
$300 and claim your prize.

Warrick: NZA. So, where'd you get the sales pitch, man?

Warrick: From the victim's personal effects. My guess, it's the same boob who was calling Bonnie.

Brass: (nods) The company's address was on the old lady's boxes.

CUT TO:
[EXT. LAS VEGAS CITY (STOCK) - EVENING]

[INT. NZA TELEMARKETING OFFICE - EVENING]

(The sales center is busy. Camera pans across the various salesmen on the phones.)

Salesman 1: Mrs. Mason, I am standing, which means what? You should be sitting.

Room Manager: I really want you to push the air purifiers. Then, I want you to push this.

Salesman 1: That's right, because I've got some great news. You just won a Cadillac. Well, does your husband drive?

Salesman 2: Have you ever shopped on 5th Avenue?

Salesman 3: Come on. Look, I've been waiting my whole life to make this call.

Salesman 4: Yes. Yes. Well, as soon as we get that ...

Room Manager: Come on, people! Let's close these deals! I got a room full of pikers or closers? You're a piker!

(Voice fades in the background as Warrick and Brass enter the office.)

Warrick: My grandmother used to say if it sounds too good to be true, it is.

Room Manager: Only closers go on that board.

(Warrick and Brass walk up to Dax Blanchard.)

Room Manager: Can I help you gentlemen?

Brass: I'm Detective Jim Brass, Las Vegas Police, and this is Warrick Brown from the crime lab - We got a couple of questions.

(Warrick turns and looks at the whiteboard:
TOP 4 CLOSERS OF THE WEEK
1. VINCENT DeCARLO
2. DAX BLANCHARD
3. TERENCE --
4. BOB--

Warrick: We know Vincent Decarlo's not available -- How about Dax Blanchard?

Room Manager: Corner cubicle, burgundy tie.

(He points to a man on the phone. Brass and Warrick head over to Dax Blanchard.)

Dax Blanchard: (to phone) You were? You know what I want you to do, Harry? I want you to stand up, and I want you to march over to that checkbook, soldier. (Brass clears his throat.) It does not sound like you're standing up to me, Harry. You know why we're doing this, Harry? (Brass clears his throat again.) Because we have something called trust, you and me. You trust ...

(Dax Blanchard notices Brass and Warrick standing behind him.)

Dax Blanchard: (to phone) Harry, I need you to do me a favor, though, okay? I need you to hang on for me for one second, okay? Okay. You're the greatest.

(He puts the phone down.)

Brass: Dax, at yakety-yak, you're the greatest. I got a one-time-only offer for you. Should we talk about it here or downtown?

Dax Blanchard: Come on, what is this? This is a legal room.

(He motions and Warrick sees that Dax is wearing a holster with a g*n.)

Warrick: What the hell is that?

Brass: Are you packing? (He takes the g*n.) This a legal g*n?

Dax Blanchard: Yeah it is. Registered to me.

(Brass hands the g*n to Warrick, who removes the clip.)

Brass: Okay. Downtown it is. Let's go.

(Warrick checks the b*ll*ts.)

Warrick: Nine-millimeter. Same as the casings found on the scene.

CUT TO:
[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT - INTERVIEW ROOM - NIGHT]

(Brass interviews Dax Blanchard.)

Dax Blanchard: Nothing I'm doing is illegal. In exchange for a small fee, my customers get one of five specified prizes.

Brass: When was the last time someone won a Cadillac?

Dax Blanchard: (shrugs) While ago. Long time ago. Never, all right? Look, I'm only obligated to give one of the prizes. Nothing says it can't be the cheap one.

Brass: Apparently, you're very good at your job, but you're not the best. I saw the board -- you're number two. Right behind a dead guy.

Dax Blanchard: Vinny's dead?

Brass: When was the last time you saw him?

Dax Blanchard: (thinks about it) Yesterday morning.

Brass: We found your blood on his jacket.

Dax Blanchard: Good. 'Cause I thought maybe I missed.

(Quick flashback to: [SALES ROOM] Vincent is on the phone when Dax walks up to his cubicle.)

Vincent Decarlo: I got a room full of people congratulating you here, Dorothy.
(shouts to phone) Yeah, Dorothy! Yeah! I ...

(Dax disconnects the phone.)

Vincent Decarlo: What in the friggin' hell? I had a live one.

Dax Blanchard: You sold my grandmother, you son of a bitch. Took every last cent.

Vincent Decarlo: Everybody we sell is someone's grandmother.

(Dax grabs Vincent. Vincent punches Dax in the mouth. Dax spits on Vincent's jacket leaving a glob of blood on his lapel.)

(End of flashback. Resume to present.)

Dax Blanchard: The guy was a mook, all right? He was constantly stealing my leads, stealing my customers. Then I find out he rips off my grandmother?

Brass: Honor among thieves?

Dax Blanchard: For crap's sake, she's living in a nursing home, confined to a wheelchair.

Brass: So you k*lled Vincent Decarlo because he was better than you, because he stole your leads, because he sold your bubby Bonnie, and you wanted him out of the way.

Dax Blanchard: (scoffs) Who the hell's Bonnie?

Brass: Your grandmother. Bonnie Bakerset.

Dax Blanchard: My grandmother's name is Fran. She lives in Daytona Beach. Would you like to call her?

CUT TO:
[INT. CSI -- LAB]

(Catherine processes the jacket. She measures the tire treads on the back of the jacket, circles the pattern and searches for it on the database.)

(She finds a match: TOYO OPEN COUNTRY MT 38/15.5/18.)

(Nick walks into the room carrying a file folder.)

Nick: Hey, Catherine. The palm prints on the newspaper don't match Elindio's.

Catherine: Well, that just means he didn't place the head in the box. The vic's blood was on the jacket in his store. She was run over by a Toyo Open Country MT 38-by-15.5-by-18.

(Quick flash to: The truck engines g*n as they run over Veronica Juarez. End of flash.)

Catherine: Now, that's a big-ass truck tire.

Nick: Elindio didn't even own a car, much less a big-ass truck. What other characteristics?

Catherine: Take a look.

Nick: That's a retread.

(Quick flash of someone retreading a tire. End of flash.)

Nick: I only know of one place in Vegas that does work like this.

CUT TO:
[INT. TIRE WAREHOUSE - DAY]

(Nick and Catherine talk with the store owner.)

Store Owner: So, what is it you need?

Catherine: Invoice copies of any retreads that were done on this type of tire.

(She shows him the photo.)

Store Owner: Oh, yeah. We sell about a hundred of these a month.

Catherine: Really?

Store Owner: Yeah. Over here.

Catherine: Thank you.

(He sits down behind the desk's computer.)

(Nick looks around the area and notices a particular worker there.)

Nick: Hey.

(The worker turns around. Nick recognizes him.)

(Quick flashback to: The Extremo lead singer on stage. End of flashback.)

Nick: I'll take that autograph now.

(The worker looks at Nick. Nick motions for him to come.)

Nick: Ven aca.

SHORT TIME CUT TO:

(The lead singer talks with Catherine. Nick looks around his locker.)

Rafael Salinas (lead singer): I was seeing Carla ... until Veronica Juarez's article came out. I figured out who she was.

Catherine: And then?

Rafael Salinas (lead singer): Then I dumped her ass. What do you think? She put down my music, my band, made it look like everyone involved in narco corridos was a drug dealer or a criminal. She lied to me.

(Quick flashback to: The Extremo lead singer, Rafael Salinas, is angry with Veronica Juarez.)

Rafael Salinas (lead singer): Asi es como pagas?

(He shouts angrily at her.)

(End of flashback. Resume to present.)

Rafael Salinas (lead singer): Narcocorridos are entertainment. The dr*gs, they're an economic activity woven in the fabric of Sinaloan history. The music does nothing more than reflect that.

Catherine: Narcocorridos also depicts actual events.

Rafael Salinas (lead singer): So does the 6:00 news. A lot of people were pissed off when she wrote that trash.

Catherine: So you're saying that she deserved to die?

Rafael Salinas (lead singer): I'm saying she was a two-faced bitch who got off on our music at night, wrote about how disgusting we were during the day, when she was the one smoking, snorting, screwing everything she could find.

Catherine: After her tox screen, we know that Miss Juarez didn't do dr*gs. And ... I seriously doubt that she was having sex with you.

Rafael Salinas (lead singer): Listen ... I didn't k*ll Veronica. But she was a pocha, a traitor, and people like that aren't taken lightly in Sinaloa.

Catherine: We're not in Sinaloa.

Rafael Salinas (lead singer): When you're inside la hacienda corona, you might as well be.

FADE OUT.

(COMMERCIAL BREAK)

---

FADE IN.

[INT. CSI - LAB -- NIGHT]

(Sofia Curtis runs the b*ll*ts through the database. The etchings read: K DWM K 480C.)

(She finds a match to REF#9935-79.)

Sofia Curtis: (to herself) Deutschland uber alles.

CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - BREAK ROOM - NIGHT]

(Warrick is sitting at the table. Sofia walks into the room.)

Sofia Curtis: I identified the casings recovered at the scene. They don't match Dax Blanchard's 9-mil. So, did he have any other firearms?

Warrick: Nothing registered.

Sofia Curtis: Well, head stamp on the casings was a little unusual.

(She shows the photos to Warrick.)

Warrick: "DWM?"

Sofia Curtis: Deutsche waffen und munitions fabrik.

Warrick: Well, that's World w*r II-era German.

Sofia Curtis: Well, it's one thing to collect old g*ns; old amm*nit*on comes from a trophy -- an enemy g*n a soldier brings back from battle.

Warrick: So, our sh**t's an old soldier.

(She gives him a look.)

Warrick: Hmm.

CUT TO:
[EXT. LAS VEGAS CITY (STOCK) - NIGHT]

[EXT. RETIREMENT HOME - NIGHT]

(Stuart Manslow talks with Warrick.)

Stuart Manslow: Bonnie had Alzheimer's, you know. And that son of a monster sold her twice a day. Once in the morning, and again that night, because ... he knew she had forgot that she bought the first time. I tried to talk her out of it, but Vincent just kept on calling. And Bonnie just kept on a-buying.

Warrick: So, what did you do about it, sir?

Stuart Manslow: Huh?

Warrick: What'd you do about it?

Stuart Manslow: Vincent started calling all of us. I played along. I told him I didn't have a checking account, so the bastard offered to drive me to the bank. I wanted him to think that I was weak. So I borrowed Bonnie's wheelchair. He drove me to the bank. Pushed me right up to the teller. Oh, he was helpful. And then he drove me back to the casino.

Warrick: Why did you have him park on the roof?

Stuart Manslow: Why not? Nobody parks on the roof.

(Quick flashback to: [VAN - NIGHT]

Vincent Decarlo: Here we go. Now all we need is the money.

(Stuart sh**t and nicks Vincent in the back of the head. He starts yelling.)

Stuart Manslow: (V.O.) I would have k*lled him with one sh*t. Lousy shakes.

(Vincent turns and looks at Stuart. Hefires again, this time hitting him square.)

Stuart Manslow: (V.O.) But I got him good the second one.

(End of flashback. Resume to present.)

Stuart Manslow: Been a long time since I had to k*ll someone.

Warrick: Where's your sidearm, sir?

(Stuart Manslow reaches for the box on the table and opens it. He takes out his g*n.)

(Warrick stops walking toward him, his eyes on the g*n in Stuart's hand. Unsure of what Stuart is going to do, Warrick becomes very cautious.)

Stuart Manslow: You know, the world has changed. (Warrick swallows, his eyes on the g*n.) When I was serving my country, I knew who my enemy was.

(Stuart shakes the g*n in his hand.)

Warrick: The g*n, please, sir.

Stuart Manslow: Now the enemy is ... some punk ... calls you up on the telephone ... and wants your credit card number.

(Stuart looks at the g*n.)

Warrick: Sir? The g*n.

(Stuart sighs.)

Stuart Manslow: Hmm.

(He hands the g*n to Warrick. Warrick removes the clip. He looks at Stuart.)

(Camera holds on Warrick.)

CUT TO:
[INT. CSI - GARAGE -- NIGHT]

(Catherine is comparing the photo of the tire print from the jacket to the various tire prints from the tires taken from the warehouse.)

(Nick walks into the garage.)

Nick: Bad news. Rafael's palm prints don't match the one on the newspaper.

Catherine: Worse news, his tire treads don't match the ones on Veronica Juarez's leather jacket, either.

Nick: Great. Well, you know, there is one place the victim was where there's a whole lot of these tires.

(Catherine looks at Nick.)

CUT TO:
[EXT. CLUB - PARKING LOT - NIGHT]

(Det. Sam Vega kneels down next to a tire and compares the photo of the tire print from the jacket to the tires on the truck. There are other officers there doing the same - comparing the photo of the tire print from the jacket to the other trucks' tires.)

(Nick walks between the trucks looking at the various parked vehicles. He comes across a particular truck with a retread.)

Nick: Vega!

(Vega walks over to Nick.)

Det. Sam Vega: What do you think?

Nick: Run the plates.

CUT TO:
[INT. CLUB - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS]

(The band on stage sings.)

Lyric: ...Que sin duda yo fui el dueño de tus sueños gracias, corazón ...

(Nick and Vega walk up to the offduty barback, Juanito Concha.

Nick: Hey, Juanito. Not barbacking tonight?

Juanito Concha: No, I got the night off. I'm gonna go party today. So, you guys, uh, still looking for Carla?

Nick: No.

Juanito Concha: No?

Nick: No, we're looking for you.

(The officers behind Juanito start handcuffing him.)

Det. Sam Vega: Do you own a 2004 forf-150? Gray with panting on it?

Juanito Concha: Uh, yeah, that's the full-blown cocino mobile.

Det. Sam Vega: Oh, your pig mobile, nice name. Yeah.

(Nick notices the hair hanging from Juanito's belt.)

Nick: That's a cool belt, Juanito. What's it made out of? Human hair?

Juanito Concha: Ooh, um ... you guys want me to show you?

(Juanito head-butts Nick and runs past him trying to escape. Nick runs after him.)

Nick: No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no

(Nick catches and grabs Juanito. Suddenly, we notice that the music has stopped completely and that there are a lot of men crowding in on Nick, Vega and Juanito, pushing and shoving each other. Very dangerous.)

Det. Sam Vega: Muevanse, muevanse por atras!

Det. Sam Vega: Muevan ... muevanse por atras!

(The men in the crowd reach for their g*ns. Nick and Vega both pull out their own g*ns and hold it up to show it to them.)

Nick: Hey, hey, hey, back up!

(They manage to push the crowd back a little distance away from them. The crowd has quieted down some.)

Nick: (shouts) He k*lled an innocent girl!

Det. Sam Vega: Calmense, todos. Dejanos hacer nuestro trabajo y no les vamos a molestar.

Nick: Hey!

Det. Sam Vega: Calmense, ya!

Nick: Este muchacho mato a una señorita inocente. Inocente!

Det. Sam Vega: Calmense. Ya.

Nick: Y tiene que pagar. Y tiene que pagar! Get him out of here!

(The officers pull Juanito toward the door and they all start heading for the exit.)

Det. Sam Vega: Ya!

Nick: Go, go, go!

Det. Sam Vega: Calmense, ya. Tranquilos.

(Vega is the last to leave.)

CUT TO:
[EXT. LAS VEGAS CITY LIGHTS (STOCK) - NIGHT]

[INT POLICE DEPARTMENT - INTERVIEW ROOM - NIGHT]

(Det. Sam Vega and Nick interview Juanito Concha.)

Det. Sam Vega: I don't understand you, Juanito. You manage to stay out of the gangs, dr*gs. Making honest money ...

Juanito Concha: (chuckles) What? Seven dollars an hour?

Nick: Hey, it's better than the joint. I can promise you that. Besides, you didn't prove anything ... Taking the life of an innocent woman ...

Juanito Concha: It was the perfect opportunity, bro...

Nick: Yeah? To do what? Impress a bunch of fools who don't give a crap about what happens to you, anyway.

(Quick flashback to: [NIGHT] Veronica Juarez takes out her keys. Around the corner sitting in his car, Juanito waits for her.)

(She hurries across the street. Juanito g*ns the engine. The truck speeds toward her. She turns and is hit by the truck.)

(End of flashback. Resume to present.)

Juanito Concha: Immortality, bro. See, I-I'm not gonna die a barback, or a dishwasher ...

Det. Sam Vega: You're gonna get the needle, menso. You're gonna die a m*rder*r.

Juanito Concha: Yeah, maybe so, but they're gonna write a song about me. I'm gonna go down in history.

Nick: No, no, no, no. You see, the song's already been written. You're just a sad copy. Una copia triste.

Juanito Concha: Look, I gave it my own twist, though. Uh ... 'cause I-I'm an original.

Nick: Right.

(Juanito chuckles. Nick stands up and heads for the door.)

Juanito Concha: (sings) machuque el perro con la lengua de la culebra...

(Nick catches the words, stops and turns around to look at Juanito as he sings his confession.)

Juanito Concha: (sings) tome el premio

(Quick flashback to: [NIGHT] Juanito scalps Veronica, ripping the hair right off of her skin.)

Juanito Concha: (sings) (V.O.) de lo que hecho

(He takes as much hair as he can.)

(Cut to: Elindio Zapata stands in front of a fire. He turns around and heads toward Juanito and Veronica.)

Juanito Concha: (sings) (V.O.) le pregunte yo a malverde ...

(Elindio is carrying a long hatchet.)

Elindio Zapata: (shouts) Limpia ... esta puta!

(He cuts Veronica's head off.)

Juanito Concha: (sings) (V.O.)
Que me diere guiansa

(Cut to: The fire's flames.)

(End of flashback. Dissolve back to present.)

Juanito Concha: (sings) para quemar mis pecados ...

(Dissolve to: Elindio Zapata takes out a single bone and holds it.)

(End of flashback.)

Juanito Concha: (chuckles) ... immortal.

(Vega doesn't say anything. Juanito chuckles at his own cleverness.)

(From the side, Nick watches grimly.)

FADE TO BLACK

End