|
Bones Transcripts Page
All of the show's dialogue!
Originally from
http://bonestv.pbworks.com
"Pilot" Episode 1x01
Written By: Hart Hanson
Directed by: Greg Yaitanes
Proofread by
Suzanne
Transcript from
http://bonestv.pbworks.com
Angela: I’m late… This board is broken. The arrivals
board is not working. Uh, did anybody meet the
flight from Guatemala? Aviateca airlines? What gate?
Yeah, right. I’m late. Excuse me, uh, you have a
computer glitch at the arrivals board. Hello!
Sir, excuse me, yoo-hoo… Great. Yeah. Hi. The
flight from Guatemala?
Temperance: Tell me you tried ‘excuse me’ first.
Angela: Sweeeeetie. Yes, I did. Welcome home. Are
you exhausted? Was Guatemala awful? Was it horribly
backward?
Temperance: And yet I was never reduced to flashing
my boobs for information.
Angela: Flash them for any fun reasons?
Temperance: I was literally neck deep in a mass
grave-not romantic.
Angela: You know, diving in a pit of cadavers is no
way to handle a messy break up.
Temperance: Angela, nothing Pete and I ever did was
messy.
Angela: Then you were not doing the right things.
Temperance: Sir, why are you following us?
Angela: Attack! Security! Hello!?! Who runs this
airport? Kick his ass, sweetie!
Police Officer: Police! Ma'am, step back now!
Temperance: He attacked me!?!
Guy: I’m Homeland Security!
Angela: Oh, little misunderstanding here.
Temperance: You can put away your guns.
Guy: What, is she in charge now? No. I’ll tell you
when you can lower your weapons. Hand over the bag.
Temperance: Is that what this is about?
Temperance: Boo. I am Doctor Temperance Brennan.
I’ve been in Guatemala for two months identifying
victims of genocide, including him.
Agent: Most people in this situation-- what they do
is, they sweat it.
Temperance: Guatemala, genocide? How are you scary
after that?
Agent: You know who doesn’t sweat it?
Agent 2: Sociopaths.
Temperance: I am not a sociopath! I’m an
anthropologist at the Jeffersonian.
Agent: Who works for the FBI. Which I’d maybe
believe if you had an ID that did more than allowed
you access to the cafeteria. You were illegally
transporting human remains, ma'am, and you assaulted
a Homeland Security agent.
Temperance: Look, I’m sorry if I embarrassed you in
front of your friends but, next time you should
identify yourself before attacking me. What are you
doing here?
Booth: FBI. Special Agent Seeley Booth, Major Crime
Investigation, D.C. Bones identifies bodies for us.
Temperance: Don’t call me "Bones". And I do more
than identify.
Booth: She also writes books.
Agent: Fine. She’s all yours.
Booth: Great. Let’s grab your skull and let’s
vamoose.
Temperance: What! That’s it? "She’s all yours?" Why
did you stop me?
Booth: Why does it matter? You’re free to go. Let’s
just grab your bags, click, click, clang, clang…
Temperance: You set me up. You got a
hold-for-questioning request from the FBI didn’t
you?
Agent: I love this book.
Temperance: Come on. That’s the best you can do?
Booth: What?
Temperance: Getting Homeland Security to snatch me
so that you can stage a fake rescue?
Booth: Well, at least I picked you up at the
airport, huh? Hey, come on. I went through the
appropriate channels, but your assistant there, he
stonewalled me!
Temperance: Yeah, well... after the last case, I
told Zach to never, ever put you through. He’s a
good assistant. You can let me out anywhere along
here.
Booth: Alright, listen. A decomposed corpse was
found this morning at Arlington National Cemetery
down…
Temperance: Arlington National Cemetery is full of
decomposed corpses. It’s… a cemetery.
Booth: Yeah, but this one is your type of corpse; it
wasn’t in a casket.
Temperance: If you drive one more block, I’m
screaming "kidnap" out the window.
Booth: Do you know what" I’m trying to mend bridges
here.
Temperance: Pull over. I’m going home.
Booth: Great! Could we… Look, could we just skip
this part?
Temperance: I find you very condescending.
Booth: Me! I’m condescending? I’m not the one who’s
got to mention that she’s got a Doctorate every five
minutes.
Temperance: I am the one with the Doctorate.
Booth: Yeah, well, you know what? I’m the one with
the badge and the gun, huh! You know, you’re
not the only forensic anthropologist in town.
Temperance: Yes, I am. The next nearest is in
Montreal. Parlez-vous francais?
Booth: What’s it going to take?
Temperance: Full participation in the case.
Booth: Fine.
Temperance: Not just lab work-- everything.
Booth: What? Do you want me to spit in my hand?
We’re Scully and Mulder.
Temperance: I don’t know what that means.
Booth: It’s an olive branch-- just get back in the
car.
Temperance: What’s the context of the find?
Booth: Routine landscaping, dropped a load in the
local pond, one of the workmen thought he saw
something.
Temperance: Hi Zach.
Zach: This eco-warrior look works for you.
Temperance: Thanks.
Zach: Very action oriented.
Temperance: Agent Booth, you remember my assistant
Zach Addy?
Booth: Oh yeah…
Zach: How was Guatemala? Dig up lots of massacred
victims? Learn a thing or two about machete strikes?
Temperance: Zach, I need water samples and
temperature readings from the pond.
Zach: Right away, Dr. Brennan.
Booth: He’s got no sense of discretion, that kid.
Typical Squint…
Temperance: I don’t know what that means.
Booth: When cops get stuck, we bring in people like
you. You know? Squints. You know, you squint at
things.
Temperance: Oh, you mean people with very high IQ’s
and basic reasoning skills.
Booth: Yeah.
Temperance: What exactly am I supposed to be
squinting at?
Booth: Oh you know, it’s like pornography--you’ll
know it when you see it.
[Temperance: Yeah, okay. This is a crime scene.
Temperance: Remains are wrapped in four-milled,
flat poly-construction sheeting.
Zach: PVC-coated chicken wire.
Temperance: Weighted. That’s why the body didn’t
surface during decomposition. The skeleton is
complete, but the skull is in fragments.
Booth: What can you tell me?
Temperance: Not much. She was a young woman,
probably between 18 and 22, approximately 5’3”, race
unknown, delicate features.
Booth: That’s all?
Temperance: Tennis player.
Booth: How do you get a pretty tennis player out of
that yuck?
Zach: Epiphyses fusion gives age, pelvic bone shape
gives sex…
Temperance: Bursitis in the shoulder...somebody this
young, must be an athletic injury.
Booth: When did she die?
Temperance: Ehhhh…..
Booth: Ehhhh… What does that even mean?
Zach: Means "wait until our bug and slime guy takes
a look".
Temperance: No clothing.
Booth: You know, in my line of work, no clothes
usually means a sex crime.
Temperance: In my line of work, it could also mean
the victim favored natural fibers.
Zach: Your suit, for example, will outlast your
bones by decades.
Temperance: Collect silt, 3 meters radius, to a
depth of 10 cm. Your FBI forensics team can take the
plastic and the chicken wire. We’ll take the rest.
Temperance: Dr. Goodman, I wish you wouldn’t just
give me to the FBI.
Dr. Goodman: As a federally funded institution, the
Jeffersonian must seize every opportunity to prove
our worth to our friends in Congress. Which means, I
loan you out as I see fit-- especially to federal
agencies.
Temperance: :Loan out" implies property, Dr.
Goodman, and the FBI will never respect me as
property.
Dr. Goodman: I do not view you as property Dr.
Brennan. You are one of the Jeffersonian’s
most valuable assets.
Zach: An asset is, by definition, property.
Dr. Goodman: What’s the rule, Mr. Addy?
Zach: [Sighing] You only converse with PhD’s. You
realize I am half way through two Doctorates? Two
halves make a whole, so mathematically speaking…
Dr. Goodman: Go polish a bone Mr. Addy!
Temperance: Dr. Goodman. FBI agents will never
respect any of us as long as you simply dole out
scientists like office temps.
Dr. Goodman: Dr. Brennan, are you playing me ?
Temperance: You know I’m no good at that.
Dr. Goodman: Mmmm. Thus far, but you have a
disturbingly steep learning curve.
Hodgins: The pond is not only warm and teeming
with microbes, which accelerated decomposition, but
it houses black carp and koi, which fed on the body.
Angela: Can I, as the only normal person in this
room, say, "Ew"?
Hodgins: I got three larval stages of trichoptera,
chironimidae…
Temperance: As we cut to the chase….
Hodgins: The body was in the pond one winter and two
summers.
Temperance: Spring before last.
Hodgins: You really think I’m Lesty?
Angela: The book.
Temperance: No, No, No. You’re not in the book.
Zach: Sure he is! We all are…
Temperance: No, none of you are in the book. Those
are fictitious characters based on….
Hodgins: I found some small bone fragments in the
silt.
Angela: We’re out of the book now. We’re back
in real life…
Hodgins: I guess rana temporaria.
Temperance: Frog bones…
Hodgins: Also, some tiny gold links-- those from a
fine chain…
Zach: Point of clarification, I’m not a
virgin. Nowhere near, in fact.
Angela: Who you captured perfectly, is Booth.
Buttoned-down, but buckets of sexual confidence
which, uhhh, I for one, would love to tap.
Zack: It’s not right to discuss tapping asses in
front of a soaker.
Temperance: I can’t bounce back and forth between my
book and real life. Since we’re stuck with real
life, let’s just forget the book.
Hodgins: I haven’t analyzed whatever it was the
victim was holding in her hand, but it looks like
cellulose.
Angela: Paper?
Hodgins: Possibly.
Temperance: I found microscopic grit embedded in the
skull fragments. I need you to identify those, too.
Remove the remaining tissue. I’ll debride the skull
fragments myself--reassemble it so Angela can put a
face on our victim.
Angela: Good. I prefer holographs, they don’t stink.
Temperance: Zach, I don’t like those terms for human
remains: soaker, crispy critter…
Zach: Sorry, Dr. Brennan.
Cullen: So, you guaranteed a squint a field role
in an active murder investigation.
Booth: Yes, sir.
Cullen: The one that wrote the book.
Booth: Yes sir.
Cullen: Thought you said that she wouldn’t work with
you anymore?
Booth: Well, the last case we worked, she provided a
description of the murder weapon and the murderer,
but I didn’t give her much credence.
Cullen: Why not?
Booth: Because she did it by looking at the victim’s
autopsy X-rays.
Cullen: Well, I wouldn’t give it much credence,
either.
Booth: Turns out she was right on both. Plus,
the pond victim-- Brennan gives me the victim’s age,
sex and favorite sport.
Cullen: [Chuckling] Which is?
Booth: Tennis.
Cullen: She’s good.
Booth: Oh, she’s amazing. If the only way I can get
her back to my side is to bring her out in the
field, I’m willing.
Cullen: Well, squints like to stay safe, back at the
lab. What’s with Brennan?
Booth: Remember a case back in the early 90’s...a
couple goes missing on the interstate, car was found
at a rest stop?
Cullen: Yeah. Upstate New York, upstanding citizens,
nobody found anything…
Booth: Those are Brennan’s parents.
Cullen: Fine. She’s on you. Take a squint out in the
field; she’s your responsibility.
Booth: Thank you, sir.
Temperance: Peter? It’s not rational for you to
choose the first day I‘m back to reclaim your
television.
Peter: While you were away, I thought a lot about
why we broke up.
Temperance: We fought all the time and don’t like
each other anymore.
Peter: We fought because you are emotionally distant
and cold, but sexually speaking, I think you’ll
agree…
Temperance: You didn’t come for your TV. You timed
this for a booty call! OK, you’re leaving.
Peter: Your intimacy issues are probably due to
being orphaned so young.
Temperance: Ughh… I hate psychology, and you‘re just
horny.
Peter: Brennan, do you really want to spend the rest
of your life alone?
Temperance: Ok, I don’t know about the rest of my
life, but I sure as hell wish I was alone right now!
Peter: So what, we split the cost of the TV?
Temperance: Goodbye.
[Phone rings]
Temperance: What?
Booth: This is interesting, Angela.
Temperance: Good morning. Does Booth know how this
works?
Angela: This computer program, which I designed,
patent pending, accepts a full array of digital
input, processes it, and then projects it as a
three-dimensional holographic image.
Booth: OK.
Temperance: You get that?
Booth: Yeah, that and the patent pending part.
Angela: Brennan reassembled the skull and applied
tissue markers.
Temperance: Her skull was badly damaged, but racial
indicators, cheekbone dimensions, nasal arch,
occipital measurements suggest African-American.
Angela: And…. we have our victim.
Booth: [Whispering] Whoa… Have to admit, that’s
pretty cool.
Temperance: Ang, rerun the program, substituting
Caucasian values.
Temperance: Does she look familiar to anyone?
Booth: [Shaking his head in disbelief] No…
Temperance: Split the difference, mixed race.
Angela: Lenny Kravitz or Vanessa Williams?
Temperance: I don’t know what that means. Angela,
reduce tissue depth over the cheekbones to the jaw
line. Does anyone recognize her?
Zach: Not me.
Angela: Wait, is that who I think it is?
Zach: The girl who had the affair with the senator?
Booth: Her name is Cleo Louise Eller--only daughter
to Ted and Sharon Eller. Last seen approximately
9pm, April 6, 2003, leaving the Cardio Deluxe Gym on
K Street. She didn’t even make it to her car.
Temperance: Pretty good memory.
Booth: Yeah, well, it’s my job to find her.
Hodgins: Well, in that case, congratulations on your
success.
Booth: This isn’t exactly the way I wanted it to
end.
Booth: Cleo Eller is not just some missing girl.
Hodgins: Yeah, she’s a senate intern who was
boinking Senator Allen Bethlehem.
Booth: I was secondary in the investigation to the
disappearance of that girl, and we couldn’t confirm
that. How did you recognize her before she even had
her own face?
Temperance: I recognized the underlying architecture
of her features. The rest is just window dressing.
Zach: I’m not an expert, but shouldn’t he be
happier?
Booth: Oh, no, believe me-- I’m happy.
Hodgins: He’s not happy because Senator Bethlehem
chairs the senate committee overseeing the FBI.
Angela: You seem happy to me.
Booth: I need this kept quiet.
Hodgins: Ha! Cover up!
Booth: Paranoid conspiracy theory.
Hodgins: Is it paranoia that Monica Lewinsky was a
KGB-trained sex-agent mole?
Temperance: So what do you do first, confront the
senator?
Booth: Listen, Bones, I know…
Temperance: Don’t call me Bones!
Booth: I know we talked about you coming out in the
field and all…
Temperance: Ughh.. You Rat Bastard!
Booth: A case this big, and the director is going to
create a special investigation. And if I line all my
ducks up in a row, I could maybe, maybe I can head
it up.
Temperance: I don’t know what that means, but I
think I could be a duck.
Booth: You’re not a duck, okay? On this one, we
stick to the book. Cops on the street; squints in
the lab.
Temperance: Well, in that case, the Jeffersonian
will be issuing a press release identifying the girl
in the pond.
Booth: You do that, I’m a dead duck. What are you
trying to do?
Temperance: Blackmail you.
Booth: Blackmail a Federal Agent?
Temperance: Yes.
Booth: I don’t like it.
Temperance: I’m fairly certain you’re not supposed
to.
Booth: Fine. You’re in.
Cullen: You’re certain it’s Cleo Eller?
Temperance: The profile’s dead on. Age, race,
height…
Booth: Plus the timeline fits. I mean, Cleo Eller
did play tennis in college.
Cullen: Talk to me about the senator.
Booth: Cleo Eller, the victim, worked for Senator
Bethlehem…
Temperance: It was reported that they were involved
sexually.
Booth: We couldn’t confirm that.
Cullen: Oh, Bethlehem’s a hound. Everybody knows
that.
Booth: Ken Thompson, Cleo’s boyfriend.
Cullen: Thompson’s still Bethlehem’s aid. Thompson
keeps Bethlehem‘s calendar-- no way the senator has
an affair that Thompson doesn‘t know about. No
sexual relationship, no motive. What about the, ahh,
nutcase?
Booth: Oliver Laurier.
Cullen: You like him for this?
Booth: Well, he’s a stalker.
Cullen: What’s your first move?
Booth: I’d like to inform the Ellers that we found
their daughter.
Cullen: It’s better to keep this quiet. It’s
been what, two years? What’s another few days?
Booth: With all due respect, sir... I’ve come to
know the family pretty well, especially the Major,
and two years is a hell of a long time, in my book.
Temperance: I’ll have details of cause of death by
this afternoon.
Booth: Then that’s where we’ll get started.
Brennan: Hodgins identified the particulates
embedded in Cleo Eller’s skull as rolled steel, most
likely from a sledge-typed hammer. Also,
there’s concrete and diatomaceous earth.
Booth: What’s that?
Brennan: Looks like that. It’s made up of
prehistoric sea creatures. It’s used as an
insecticide, filtering agent, cleaning abrasive,
ceramics… It’s very common.
Booth: Diatomaceous earth. Common or not, it’s a
clue.
Mr. Eller: You’re positive it’s our Cleo?
Brennan: We established 22 matching points of
comparison…
Booth: Yes. We’re certain.
Mr. Eller: Did he do it? The senator. One military
man to another.
Booth: Major Eller, we can’t discuss the
investigation in any way.
Mrs. Eller: Can you at least tell us if our daughter
suffered?
Brennan: Given the state of her skull…
Booth: Cleo never saw it coming.
Mr. Eller: Thank you.
Brennan: Mrs. Eller, can you tell us what Cleo wore
around her neck?
Mrs. Eller: Her father’s Bronze Star. Ted won it in
the first Gulf War; then he gave it to her for
luck.
Brennan: Those people deserved the truth.
Booth: Their daughter was murdered. They
deserve the kindness of a lie.
Brennan: There‘ll be an inquest report.
Booth: Which they won’t read because they don’t want
to, especially because toward the end, Cleo and her
parents weren’t even speaking.
Brennan: They told you that?
Booth: You know, getting information out of live
people is a lot different than getting information
out of a pile of bones. You have to offer up
something of yourself first.
Bones: What exactly did you do in the military?
Booth: See? See what you did right there, Bones? You
asked a personal question without offering anything
personal in return, and since I’m not a skeleton, you
get zilch. Sorry.
Brennan: There are stab marks here, and odd
markings on the distal phalanges. Nothing I’ve seen
before.
Hodgins: In a nutshell; anxious, depressed and
nauseous.
Brennan: Take a sick day.
Hodgins: Not me. Cleo Eller. Pupal casings show that
she was on Lorazepam, Chloradiazepoxide, and
Meclizine Hydrochloride.
Brennan: Nausea. Show me those bone fragments.
Brennan: These aren’t frog bones. Cleo Eller was
pregnant.
Zach: Fetal remains….
Brennan: Malleus, incus, stapes-- these are fetal
ear bones.
Hodgins: The girl was pregnant.
Brennan: Not very far along.
Zach: Do you want to try to get a DNA reading, see
if we can prove paternity?
Brennan: You can try. Let's hope there’s enough
genetic material to test.
Hodgins: This senator! Ahhh, he is smart. He gets an
intern pregnant, and then murders her when it
threatens his career, and he has the connections to
get away with it.
Brennan: I hate it when you make paranoia plausible.
It’s like sliding off a cliff.
Hodgins: Special Unit? No way your FBI pal heads it
up, unless the dark powers in charge are convinced
he knows where his political bread is buttered.
Either way, this is where this investigation ends.
Angela: Want to get a drink? Non-topical
application. Glug, glug, Woo hoo! Come on Sweetie…
Brennan: What if Booth’s right? What if I’m only
good with bones, and lousy with people?
Angela: People like you.
Brennan: I don’t care if men like me.
Angela: [Chuckling] Okay, interesting leap from
people to men, but I’m sure it means nothing.
Brennan: I hate psychology. [Chuckling] My most
meaningful relationships are with dead people!
Angela: Who said that?
Brennan: It’s true! I understand Cleo, and her bones
are all I’ve ever seen. When she was seven, she
broke her wrist, probably falling off a bike, and
two weeks later, before the cast was even removed,
she got right back on that bike and broke it all
over again. And when she was being murdered, she
fought back hard, even though she was so depressed,
she could hardly get up in the morning. She didn‘t
welcome death. Cleo wanted to live.
Angela: Honey, you ever think you come off kind of
distant because you connect too much?
Brennan: I hate psychology; it’s a soft science.
Angela: I know, but people are mostly soft.
Brennan: Except for their bones.
Angela: Yeah… You want some advice?
Brennan: Glug, glug, woo hoo…
Angela: Offer up a little bit of yourself every once
and awhile. Just… tell somebody something you’re not
completely certain you want them to know.
Brennan: [Laughing] God! That’s the second time I’ve
received that advice.
Angela: Well, you know, I give great advice.
Brennan: I’m gonna have to push this to the next
level.
Thompson: I’m a little confused as to why the
director of the FBI would send you to speak to the
senator instead of coming himself.
Brennan: Probably because I’m the one who found out
that Cleo Eller was pregnant.
Bethlehem: You can tell the girl was pregnant from
her skeleton?
Brennan: We found fetal bones. The only question
now, Senator, is which one of you is the father. Are
you willing to submit to a DNA test?
Thompson: You know what? Given the
sensitivity, don’t say anything on the subject
without your attorney present. That’s my advice.
Bethlehem: Advice I intend to take. Ken, we have a
vote to get to. Ummm, heh heh, what are you doing?
Brennan: Saliva, say from chewing gum, is an
excellent source of DNA. I intend to compare it to
the DNA in the fetal bones.
Bethlehem: You need a warrant for that. Ken, she
needs a warrant.
Brennan: If we have any further questions, we’ll be
in touch.
Bethlehem: Ken, you okay?
Cullen: When you work for the FBI, Dr. Brennan,
you’re a Federal Agent. Government property, I own
you.
Brennan: I’m not certain that’s accurate, sir.
Cullen: Well, how’s this for accurate? I could place
you under arrest on a Federal charge right now for
uttering threats against a United States Senator.
Brennan: What…?
Booth: Bones…
Cullen: I own her, but she was your responsibility.
Booth: Yes, sir.
Cullen: Send in Special Agent First. I warned you
about taking squints out to the field, but you
vouched for her, said she wouldn’t screw up.
Booth: Yes, sir.
Cullen: She accosted a Senator, assaulted his aid...
that counts as screwing things up.
Brennan: No! No! Booth didn’t know I was going to
see the Senator. I wanted to get a sample of
his DNA.
Cullen: Exactly.
Booth: Not helping….
Cullen: Tomorrow morning I’m announcing the
formation of a special unit to investigate the
murder of Cleo Eller. At which time, your
investigation will be officially terminated. You
will not head the new unit.
Booth: Congratulations, Patrick.
Agent First: No hard feelings.
Booth: Right.
Agent First: I need the complete case files in the
morning.
Booth: Of course. They’ll be ready.
Cullen: Thank you, Agent First.
Booth: At least Dr. Brennan found out that Senator
Bethlehem was having sex with Cleo.
Brennan: I did?
Cullen: Report said there wasn’t enough DNA in the
fetal bones to determine paternity.
Booth: Senator Bethlehem didn’t want Dr. Brennan to
take that gum. He’s hiding something.
Brennan: He didn’t know there wasn’t enough DNA.
Cullen: I suggest you, ummm... go back to your lab,
Dr. Brennan, and get used to being there.
Booth: Come on, Bones… You okay?
Brennan: Don’t be nice to me after I got you in
trouble.
Booth: Your heart was in the right place.
Brennan: No, I’m not a heart person. You’re a
heart person. I‘m a brain person. You vouched
for me.
Booth: Forget it…
Brennan: No, I won’t. You think it was the senator?
Booth: Look, the senator has had sex with a dozen of
these interns, and he hasn’t killed any of them.
Our best bet is still the stalker.
Brennan: You want to check him out, we can, I don’t,
know, what do you call it, roost him?
Booth: Rouse.
Brennan: Rouse. Well, the murderer snatched a Bronze
Star from Cleo’s neck, so…
Booth: I’ve got twelve hours before this case is
over, and I’m off it, so...let’s go rouse.
Brennan: Mr. Laurier, we have a warrant to search
your apartment….
Booth: Don’t run, Oliver.
Brennan: Agent Booth is under the impression that
you may have something that is pertinent to a case
he is working on.
Oliver: You’re looking for a Bronze Star? Like the
one that Cleo wore?
Brennan: Exactly like that one, Mr. Laurier.
Oliver: I don’t have it.
Brennan: Sometimes stalkers retain keepsakes.
Booth: What the hell are these things, huh?
Oliver: Miniature lives of the Saints. I hand them
out….
Booth: Heads up, Bones.
Oliver: I hand them out for donations.
I’m not a panhandler. Help yourself. I never stalked
Cleo.
Brennan: Then why did she get a restraining order?
Oliver: Okay, okay, no. First of all, no. Ken
Thompson, her supposed boyfriend, got the
restraining order with his boss, the senator, but
Ken is only concerned with his job and his tropical
fish. They colluded to ruin my reputation with this
specious stalker label, when in actuality, I was
Cleo’s close friend.
Brennan: Then why’d you run from the warrant?
Oliver: My fight or flight response is heavily
weighted toward flight. If there is anything I can
do to help you catch Cleo’s killer, just tell me.
Booth: Oh! Full confession-- that would be great.
Oliver: I love Cleo. Why would I hurt her?
Brennan: If you don’t mind, I’m gonna keep one of
these little books.
Oliver: Whatever you need, Dr. Brennan.
Angela: This is a rough composite, but you get
the idea.
Brennan: Skull trauma was not the cause of death.
Cleo was stabbed first. She was stabbed 5 to 8 times
with a military-issued Ka-Bar knife.
Angela: And I just completed this rendering. The
defensive wounds to the bones of her hands suggest
that it wasn’t until the third or the fourth
penetration that--
Brennan: That’s likely the fatal stab, right there.
Angela: --that Cleo stopped fighting back.
Brennan: I believe that the distinctive damage to
her distal phalanges, the tips of her finger bones,
was caused by the murderer using a knife to remove
her finger pads. Cranial fragmentation suggests a 20
lb. hammer striking four to five times while the
victim's head rested on a cement floor containing
traces of diatomaceous earth. That’s the best
explanation for the particulates found in her skull.
This was not a crime of passion.
Angela: Cleo never saw the first stab coming.
It didn’t arise out of an argument. Why smash Cleo’s
face? Why whittle away her finger tips, remove her
clothing, and her jewelry?
Zach: Sink her body.
Brennan: The murderer put more effort into hiding
the victim’s identity than he did into the murder
itself.
Hodgins: In case Cleo was identified, the murderer
planted evidence. The little book that Brennan got
from the stalker matches the cellulose I found in
Cleo’s hand.
Angela: Military cemetery, military knife implicate
her own father. More misdirection.
Hodgins: Sound like any conniving, son-of-bitch
senators you know?
Booth: You expect me to declare war on a United
States Senator based on your little holographic
crystal ball?
Brennan: It’s not magic. It’s a logical recreation
of events based on evidence.
Booth: No more valid than my gut.
Zach: A good hypothesis withstands testing-- that’s
what makes it a good hypothesis.
Booth: It’s not a hypothesis. You have a dead
girl and a United States senator. This is exactly
why squints belong in the lab. You guys don’t
know anything about the real world.
Brennan: Come on, we’re done here.
Booth: Wow. Touchy…
Angela: You must know about her family. Both parents
vanish when she’s fifteen? Probably counts as the
real world.
Booth: Yeah. I know the story. Read the file. Cops
never found out anything.
Angela: Yeah. Brennan figures that if maybe somebody
like her had been there…
Booth: For someone who hates psychology, she sure
has a lot of it.
Booth: Thought I’d find you here. You know, you
being a good shot and doing martial arts-- it’s all
your way of dealing. Who knows better than you how
fragile life can be?
Brennan: Maybe an Army Ranger sniper who became an
FBI homicide investigator?
Booth: Ah, you looked me up, huh? Do you mind?
Brennan: Be my guest.
Booth: Thank You.
Brennan: [Chuckling] Were you any good at being a
sniper?
Booth: A sniper gets to know a little something
about killers. Senator Bethlehem--he’s no killer.
Brennan: Oh, and Oliver Laurier is?
Booth: The way I read Laurier, he’s unhinged.
That makes him dangerous.
Brennan: That’d be your gut telling you that,
correct?
Booth: You know... homicides-- they’re not solved by
scientists. They’re solved by guys like me. asking a
thousand questions a thousand times, catching people
telling lies every time. You’re great at what you
do, Bones, but you don’t solve murders. Cops do.
Brennan: Cleo Eller was killed on a cement floor
sprinkled with diatomaceous earth. Traces of her
blood will still be in that cement. One of us is
wrong; maybe both of us. But if Bethlehem wasn’t a
senator, you’d be right there in his basement
looking for that killing floor. You’re afraid of
him. Your hypothesis is that squints don’t solve
murders and cops do? Prove it. Be a cop.
Booth: They look pretty happy, don’t they?
Otherwise they wouldn’t turn on the camera, I guess.
Brennan: Zach said you wanted to see me?
Booth: That something you don’t like to talk about?
Families? Temperance, partners... they... share
things. Builds trust.
Brennan: Since when are we partners?
Booth: I apologize for the assumption.
Brennan: You got a warrant to search Bethlehem’s
place?
Booth: You were right. If Bethlehem wasn’t a
Senator, I’d be in that basement, looking for that
killing floor. But you’re wrong-- I was never afraid
of that guy, and I’m not doing this because you’re a
genius. I’m doing this for Cleo.
Thompson: The warrant says they’re searching for
blood traces, a sledgehammer and diatomaceous earth.
Bethlehem: What the hell is that?
Thompson: You’re making a big mistake.
Brennan: What are you doing here?
Oliver: Look at him-- for all his politics, he’s got
nothing. He should have loved Cleo properly, like I
would have. Will you sign my book?
Brennan: Stalk me, Oliver, and I will Kick. Your.
Ass.
Bethlehem: I don’t recognize that. That is not
mine. That is not mine!
Brennan: At least we got the hammer.
Booth: Yeah, but that’s all we got.
Brennan: The cement floor in the basement?
Booth: Yeah, no blood, diatomaceous earth. We needed
a trifecta, Bones. Physical evidence, murder weapon,
crime scene…
Zach: They won’t even arrest him?
Hodgins: Don’t worry, if that’s the hammer used on
Cleo Eller, he’ll get arrested. A toast to getting
this bastard.
Brennan: The hammer’s not enough. He’s gonna get
away with it. And maybe Booth is right, maybe
outside the lab I’m useless.
Hodgins: [Holding up Oliver’s book] Let’s take
guidance from the lives of the Saints.
Angels: Albertus Magnus, Patron Saint of Scientists.
Zach: I thought Magnus was the Patron Saint of fish
mongers?
Hodgins: Two separate entities. Albertus Magnus was
a 13th century philosopher, the fish monger saint
was a …
Brennan: Fish! [Everyone stares at Brennan] You said
that diatomaceous earth could be used as a filtering
agent.
Hodgins: Yeah, for swimming pools, water filters…
Brennan: Or tropical fish. Oliver Laurier said that
Ken Thompson kept fish.
Angela: What’s your hurry?
Brennan: Thompson read the warrant--
he knows we’re looking for diatomaceous earth. Get
in touch with Booth. Tell him where I’m going,
okay?.
Angela: She didn’t actually say where
she was going, did she?
Brennan: Stop! You can’t destroy evidence.
Thompson: This is a private residence, I don’t
suppose you have a warrant?
Brennan: I’m working with the FBI. If I have
reasonable suspicion of a crime being committed, I
don’t need a warrant.
Thompson: What crime?
Brennan: Destruction of evidence pertinent to a
Federal investigation.
Thompson: I’m just cleaning up. Is that alcohol I
smell on your breath?
Brennan: This linoleum looks fairly new. What’s
underneath, cement? The same cement that was
embedded in Cleo’s skull when you bashed her head
in.
Thompson: You might want to get out of here.
Brennan: I can’t let you destroy evidence.
Thompson: How are you going to stop me?
Brennan: I’ll stop you.
Thompson: [Laughing] Not before I burn this place
down with you in it.
Brennan: I don’t get it. It wasn’t jealousy;it
wasn’t passion. Cleo wouldn’t get rid of your boss’s
baby, and so you got rid of her. What kind of
psychology is that? What kind of person are you?
Oliver: Temperance. Are you alright?
Brennan: Oliver, I understand you’re here out of a
misguided concern for my safety, but I apparently
don’t read people very well and you could be in some
kind of psychotic collusion with Ken, so I’m going to
ask you to go over there and apply pressure to his
wound until the police get here. You understand?
Oliver: Okay. Okay. Did he kill Cleo?
Brennan: Yeah…
Oliver: Okay. Well, I’m down with him bleeding to
death.
Brennan: Did I mention that applying pressure to a
gunshot wound is extremely painful?
Angela: Is the FBI going to lay charges against
Brennan?
Hodgins: She only shot him in the leg. Once.
Booth: She didn’t give him a warning. She just shot
him, with alcohol on her breath.
Goodman It was her first shooting. You can’t expect
it to be perfect right out of the gate.
Zach: How much warning did you give
people before you sniped them?
Brennan: [Laughing] What?
Booth: Told you it wasn’t the Senator.
Brennan: And I told you who it was, so we’re even.
Booth: Except we work on the same cases, and you end
up on the New York Times Best Sellers list.
Brennan: I didn’t know that!
Booth: Number Three, with a bullet.
Brennan: That’s good right!?! The New York Times
with a bullet…
Booth: It means you’re rich. Call your accountant.
Brennan: [Laughing] I don’t have an accountant.
Booth: Well, get one.
Brennan: Okay, how does that work?
Booth: Ughh, you need to get out of the lab, you
know? Watch TV, turn on the radio, anything! Pick up
the phone and….
Booth: You know, if it weren’t for you, those people
would never have known what happened to their
daughter. That’s got to be worse than the truth.
Brennan: I know exactly how the Ellers felt about
Cleo. My parents disappeared when I was fifteen, and
nobody knows what happened to them.
Booth: You know, being a sniper... I took a lot of
lives. What I’d like to do before I’m done is try
and catch at least that many murderers.
Brennan: [Laughing] Please! You don’t think there’s
some kind of cosmic balance sheet… I’d like to
help you with that.
Booth: [Smirking] Ehhhh….
Back to The TV MegaSite's Main
Bones Page |
