- Excuse me. - Excuse me.
Six, please.
He got it.
Somebody already pushed it.
Sorry about that.
Is our coffee machine still broken?
It was on Friday, and I couldn't chance it.
Well, I filled out a 1612 Repair
Authorization for office equipment under $200, but I never heard back.
Man, this guitar is bitchin'.
Sorry.
Excuse me.
How's the third quarter P&L?
I processed a stack of orders and returns with Patty on Friday.
She was still reviewing them when I left.
Oh, my God, what's going on?
The conscious mind
represents only one-sixth of our brain's activity.
Now, I want you to both appreciate
the power of the subconscious and our quest for its secrets...
Stop!
Dr. Brennan, you can't dismiss over a hundred years of psychological research.
I'm not even actually listening.
Your leg has not stopped moving since we started this session.
Something you should have noticed.
I assumed he was anxious to leave, as he is every session.
Yeah, well, that's not it.
Okay, a guy at work, Special Agent Graham Kelton died last week.
I'm so sorry.
That's awful, Booth. Were you good friends?
No, he was a creep.
So, then your agitation comes from...?
Kelton had the best desk chair in the office building, all right?
Lumbar support, cushioned arms, Macintosh oak finish.
- And? - And I want it.
I put a request in, but so have all the other agents.
This is one sweet chair.
You are anxious that you won't get a dead man's chair?
Right. Mine, it won't even recline anymore.
Get this: Charlie Baron, okay,
he'd been putting a request in to Human Resources
even when Kelton was on his deathbed.
All right? Is that low or what?
Bones, maybe you can write me a doctor's note saying that I need the chair.
- What? - Yeah, something along the lines,
that I got, like, a bad back,
and the extra lumbar support could enhance my job performance.
I'm not a medical doctor.
The answer's no.
You're obviously trying to enhance your status
with your coworkers by acquiring something that they all covet.
- You want a throne. - Back support, okay?
I'm just looking for a little back support.
Perhaps you've been feeling inadequate at work lately.
- Compensating in this... - Booth.
Right. Be right there.
Well, got a case. See ya.
Agent Booth, I really think that we're touching on something important...
Thank you.
If I could help you get a better chair, I would.
Thank you, but if I wanted a better office chair, I'd just buy one myself.
No, no, that's not how it works, Bones.
When you work for The Man, he buys all the office furniture.
Which man?
You're kidding me, right? There's no actual man.
Then who buys the office furniture?
Never mind, Bones. Just never mind.
- Excuse us. - Sorry. So sorry.
Coming through. That's it. Watch out.
Look at that.
Hey, Cam, you're a real doctor.
Maybe you could, do a pal a favor
and write me a note for my back.
- The chair? - Yeah,
this is a chance for you to be, creative.
- Tell us about the leg. - Given the pump, female victim.
The skin elasticity, what's left of it,
indicates she was probably between 20 and 40 years old.
Striations on the bone suggests the flesh was scraped away.
And the remaining soft tissue appears to have been scavenged.
What are you thinking? A little respect.
I wasn't taking a photo of the leg.
I was taking her picture.
You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in the elevator.
Back up there. Take-take him out of here.
Take care of him.
Did you find anything besides the leg?
The remains are smeared along the entire length of the hoistway.
God, that,
that's nasty.
I'm gonna need a spatula to scrape off all the
flesh and the organs.
The bones are in hundreds of pieces. I want them bagged.
Judging from the amount of putrefactive liquid on top of the car,
she landed here first, wedging up against the shaft.
So when it went up and down, she...
Oh, that's not good. That's bad. That's not good.
I don't see any hemorrhagic tissue.
Victim was most likely dead before she was put in here.
Well, fracturing indicates she was dropped from quite a height.
It's the machine room. It has the control system for the elevator.
- Who has access to this room? - Only maintenance,
but they only unlock it when the elevator is serviced.
Lock's been jimmied.
I don't know how this happened. I run a safe building.
Right, except for the mangled dead woman.
It's the first unit.
Those cables raise and lower the cars.
Look at this.
Okay.
So you think the, victim's body could have been, you know,
pushed down there?
It's pretty small.
But I've seen bodies carried down storm drains narrower than that.
Who tries to hide a body by throwing it down an elevator shaft?
Someone who is toasted.
A joint.
I can get DNA from the paper.
Marijuana doesn't make you a killer.
Yeah, well, it makes you stupid.
Stupid enough to jam someone down an elevator shaft?
Bones - Season 04 Episode 06 "The Crank in the Shaft"
Sad.
Woman's whole life reduced to a bunch of glorified sandwich bags.
Not the woman's life, Fisher, just her body. Big difference.
Whatever gets you through the day.
What have we got?
Her clothes are shredded and covered in particulates.
Still sorting through it all. I'm pulling traces
to run through the GC Mass Spec.
Well, I've got the when.
Vitreous humor from an eyeball
confirms time of death sometime between Friday night and Saturday morning.
And her final meal
was lettuce, yogurt, chicken and pita.
- A gyro. - Most likely.
I've got them checking Greek restaurants in the neighborhood.
Maybe someone made a delivery to her office.
Dead before the fall.
Wish we knew how she died.
Tox screen came back negative.
No drugs, no poison, not even caffeine.
So, ball's in your court, Fisher.
Dr. Brennan left me with exactly
1,263 bone fragments,
each one screaming pain, violence and hopelessness.
So how about cutting me a little slack?
The job gets easier with time, Mr. Fisher.
Any leads on who she is?
The hot chick is doing a sketch from the few pieces of skull
I could locate and reconstruct.
Hot chick?
Sorry.
The other hot chick.
It's a bow.
With hair.
It's brown.
Natural colors.
Might help Angela with her sketch.
Right.
You should give it to her.
- I'm kind of busy. - And I'm kind of your boss.
Anything else, Mr. Fisher?
I also found hairline impact fissures on the lateral epicondyle.
And?
My grad thesis explored the effect of falls on human bone.
I got the idea at my summer job.
I'm afraid to ask.
Suicide hotline.
Were you...
For or against?
Hey, got a bow for you.
Look, Hodgins,
we both decided it's over.
I don't want any gifts.
The bow's from the victim.
Right.
Sorry. That's helpful, that bow.
How's it coming?
Well, according to my sketch, the victim was a model for Picasso.
Like it.
Mr. Cheerful's putting more pieces together for me.
That's a good idea.
Just so you know, I'm cool.
You and I, we work together, and... and that's it.
Great.
- We're two professionals. - Yep, two professionals.
I should finish this,'cause this is...
Yeah, you know, and I've got lots to do.
I mean, lots. So...
Okay.
From the impact fissures, I'd estimate her fall was from at least 60 meters.
Okay, first of all, I doubt even Dr. Brennan
could discover that from impact fissures alone.
My thesis got me here. Ask her.
And second, that doesn't indicate what floor she fell from
'cause the elevator car could have been
on any floor in the building when she landed on it.
But since it's a 16-story building, at about 10 feet per floor...
11 or 12, if you count the space between floors.
Right. That's 252 feet.
That gives us 76.8 meters,
a difference of about 17 meters.
- That's... - 52 feet.
Meaning she had to fall from the top floor
or the machine room above it.
Very impressive, Mr. Fisher.
Well,
I'll still wind up like her one day.
You ever think of finding a girlfriend, Mr. Fisher?
I've got one.
Jill.
She's very beautiful.
Yes.
Now.
Patty Hoyle, she's one of the people who didn't check into the building.
oAngela's sketch matches the picture on her ID card.
So Cam is actually going to write you a letter so you can get the chair?
That's right. She understands how the game is played.
She worked for the same man as you.
- That's right. - The man who doesn't exist.
Can you imagine working in a place like this?
No. It's not sterile, and there's no room for diagnostic equipment
or sufficient bone storage.
Bones, I meant the little cubicles. Look, they look like caged animals.
Throughout history,
you can find examples of human beings adapting to virtually any environment.
- Like you and the chair. - Me? You're way off base.
Ziff-Young. Hold the line, please.
- Thank you. - Did you find out who it was?
The whole building's been wondering. I was there, you know, in the elevator.
- It was horrible. - Slow down, okay?
Did this woman show up to work?
Oh, Patty.
Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Patty? Really? It's Patty, Chip.
- It was Patty in the elevator. - Oh, man.
We still have to verify identity with dental records.
Hey, everybody! In the elevator? It was Patty.
No, not Patty.
Pretty Patty?
- Could you just keep it quiet, please? - What's going on?
What about Patty?
This is Patty's area right over here.
Patty decorated the place herself.
Even painted the frogs.
- A lot of frogs. - She was that kind of person.
One who adjusted to an impersonal workplace.
Nice chair.
We're gonna have to look in her computer.
Whatever you need. It's all company property.
I can get you the password.
So you last saw her on Friday?
She was still here when I left, yeah.
Working late as usual. She... she was
the best office manager you can imagine.
See? Booth?
Some people accept their position as a drone.
Are you calling me a drone?
It's not a pejorative statement,
without the drones, the hive would die.
- Anyone else work here late? - Are you kidding?
When that clock hits 6:00,
it's like the running of the bulls, especially on Friday.
Did Patty have any eneimes?
Well, we all have to break a few eggs to make an omelet.
Do you know if she caught any of your employees smoking marijuana?
Marijuana? No.
So, no history of drug use here?
Ted Russo
was arrested last year for smoking pot at a concert in the park,
but he is a good worker.
He promised me he hasn't touched the stuff since.
Ted?
Yeah?
What's up?
Ted, the leg found in the elevator? It was Patty.
Oh, dude.
Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan would like to ask you a few questions.
Hi, Ted.
We found the remnants of a joint in the room where
Patty could have been pushed into the elevator shaft.
I don't smoke, man. Yeah, my eyes look like this 'cause I have allergies.
We pulled DNA from the saliva on the cigaretette paper.
Really?
And we can get a court order to take a sample from you.
All right, sure. I smoke a little weed. Wouldn't you?
Locked up in these veal pens all day, you know, collating invoices.
I'm an artist, man. But my dad cut me off, so
without this place I'd starve to death.
What happened, Ted? Patty catch you?
Threaten to fire you and you killed her?
Ted, if you think these cubicles are small,
wait till you see the inside of a cell, pal.
How many times do I have to say it? I didn't kill Patty.
- Would you call her a friend? - She was the office manager, man.
Eyes always on me, you know?
"Why are you using so many envelopes, Russo?"
"Gee, like, maybe 'cause I'm sending out letters?"
But I didn't kill her.
Did you think she was a bitch?
- What? - Right there, you see that?
That's Patty's car. "Bitch."
- Is that an example of your artwork? - No. I didn't do that.
We found your roach in the elevator machine room,
where we also found parts of Patty's body
crushed in the hoistway.
We found two weeks worth of invoices that you hadn't completed.
Maybe Patty caught you,
you keyed her car
you went back to the machine room for a quick toke and to chill,
Patty walks in on you, she catches you, threatens your job...
You kill her.
Dude, you are so off base.
- Let me have your keys. - Why?
Is that a "no," 'cause I'll just go get a court order?
Oh, look at that. Thanks for your cooperation.
That wasn't too hard.
The depressed intern is quite clever.
His analysis of the impact fissures
supports Booth's theory of where the body was dropped.
Great.
I don't know how to act around Hodgins.
I beg your pardon?
We just ended a relationship that was intense,
both emotionally and sexually.
Now rather than intense, we're just...
Plain tense.
We don't look at each other, everything is fraught with meaning.
Brennan,
you're supposed to say something.
Oh, I'm sorry. What am I supposed to say?
Something that will make me feel better.
Well, both Hodgins and you mean a lot to me,
but since you're my best friend, I...
I guess I could fire Hodgins.
What? No.
I don't want you to fire him.
That's good, because I would have disliked doing that.
Yeah, of course.
Thank you though for the offer. It was... it was very sweet.
So I helped?
Absolutely, sweetie.
Thank you, it was...
Cam?
Listen, I appreciate the doctor's note, but you can't send it in.
Too late, that's just a copy.
This note, it makes me sound like an invalid.
- You want the chair, don't you? - No, I want to keep my job. Hello?
"Agent Booth suffers from multi-level
"disc disease with herniation of the L4-5 disc,
producing rad-i-cu-ular..."
Radicular.
"... radicular pain in a sciatic distribution."
This letter is going to get me a gurney, not a chair.
I'm a coroner. Tell them... I confused you with a corpse.
Am I the only one taking this seriously?
You are now.
You're welcome.
You look bummed.
What? No.
It's just... sometimes answers pose more questions than they answer.
Thus the melancholy.
- Did you discover cause of death yet? - Life, man.
Life is always the cause of death.
Okay, now you're just a tool. Why are you here?
Well, I was hoping you could maybe give me a little inspiration,
being a mentor and all.
All I have are facts, man.
Initial particulate analysis shows
a thin layer of styrene acrylate copolymer on her sweater.
It's, copier toner.
She worked in an office. She probably got dirty changing a cartridge.
She was an office manager wearing a cashmere sweater.
I doubt changing the cartridge was her responsibility,
not to mention, the toner dust was all over her front and back.
Very cool.
She probably spent a little time rolling around the copy room floor.
- Anything else? - Yeah.
Yeah, there were some stains on different
sweater fragments consisting of hesperic acid,
ascorbic acid, citrus sinensis, furfural,
proteolytic enzyme, alcohol,
triarylmethane dye, AKA Brilliant Blue.
It's a food coloring.
Do you think the stain is relevant to the case?
Before I answer that, I need to know what it is.
I get it.
We live our lives in darkness, hoping for a sun that seldom shines...
Go away, Fisher.
Forensics analyzed Ted Russo's keys, all right.
There's no evidence of red paint transfer from keying the car.
This is a very efficient workspace, don't you think?
It affords a minimum amount of human interaction
so the workers can concentrate solely on productivity.
It's demoralizing.
Don't look at me like that. I'm not some kind of a drone.
You have superiors to whom you must report, protocols you must follow.
All of your actions are documented and reviewed.
Look, I do not work for some faceless bureaucracy, okay?
I work for the United States government,
and so do you, which makes you a drone, too.
No. No, I'm a completely independent contractor
operating out of the Jeffersonian. In the hive, I would be the queen bee.
- Still in a hive. - In which I am the queen.
OK, what do we got?
We found dried toner in a section of the floor
and fabric threads that might match the victim's clothes.
Send them all to Dr. Hodgins at the Jeffersonian.
- Says the queen bee. - What?
Nothing.
Use the ALS in this area.
Booth, the light.
I'll tell you what, I am going to be the king bee in my department.
- There's no such thing as a king bee. - Sure there is.
And he is going to have the finest chair in the hive.
This area might also have staining that could help Hodgins identify
what else was on the victim's clothes.
Remove this section of carpet and send it to the lab.
- What is it? - I'm not sure.
Cam and Hodgins will have to check it.
- The lights. - Yeah, yeah.
Booth.
Right. Just send it to my phone right away.
What's going on?
Computer Forensics, they went through the victim's hard drive.
Seems that she got a really angry e-mail last week.
It's from somebody who works here:
Dave Farfield.
"You self-entitled bitch. "You are done playing with me.
"You'll pay. Trust me.
Love and kisses, Dave."
Do you have an employee named Dave Farfield?
Yes. Well, actually, no.
Okay, which is it?
Well, Dave worked here for eight years, but he was let go last Thursday.
- You fired him? - That's right.
Oh, God...
- What? - Well, it was Patty.
She told me that Dave was a problem:
disruptive, not doing his work.
- It was Patty who got him fired? - She showed me
an inflammatory e-mail that he wrote to her,
and I agreed with Patty, it wasn't right.
And Dave knew he was fired because of Patty?
Yes.
I don't get it.
Keying someone's car is a federal offense now?
- So you admit you did it? - No.
But did you ever meet Patty?
Someone was just accurately describing her.
I mean, what other kind of person would call the FBI
because she had her car keyed?
Patty's dead, Dave.
Whoa, wait a second.
Is that why I'm here?
Okay, look, sir...
I admit that I keyed her car,
but she purposely parked across the line
so I couldn't get into my space.
I mean, every day,
I would have to squeeze the car in.
I scratched the whole side of my Corolla.
And that car was cherry.
You hated her.
She got me fired because I turned her into the parking guards,
but it's not like I'm the only one that didn't like her.
- Your coworkers seemed to like her. - No, no, she drove us all crazy.
She docked Hamid's pay one time
because he put too much half-and-half in his coffee.
And then she had me reported
for excessive use of the Internet, and I was the IT guy.
- So where were you Friday night, Dave? - I was at Paradise Isle.
- I met Chip over there. - Chip?
Chip's a guy from work.
I got a little tanked, I bitched about getting fired.
Chip drove me home, 'cause like I said, I got a little tanked,
but I was home before 8:00.
- You got an alibi after that? - I was online.
I was online playing Knights of Atlantis.
You can check the log or ask... Thrustkiller278
or Donnerparty819.
Right.
Her body sustained severe postmortem damage:
comminuted crush fractures of the upper and lower extremities,
burst fractures of the thoracic and lumbar vertebrae,
and shearing of the spinous processes.
- Your reconstruction looks good. - It's incomplete.
I suck.
This woman was mulched in an elevator shaft.
Given her condition, I'm impressed with your work.
Come on, Mr. Fisher, let me see a little smile.
That's the ticket.
I also found incomplete bilateral compression fractures
of ribs R3 to R11.
There's inward deformation to the lateral aspects.
Curve patterns are consistent with the outer edge of a shoe.
I looked at several sections of the epidermis
from the area of patterned abrasions,
didn't find any hemorrhage in the soft tissue.
So she was stomped postmortem.
Why stomp on someone when they're already dead?
Good question.
And I have another. Did you figure out cause of death, yet?
I told you, man, I suck.
Buck up, Mr. Fisher.
You give me cause of death, I give you a Kierkegaard T-shirt.
Hello.
- Fries look good. - You want some?
If you don't want them.
So, I need some advice.
I have office hours, Ms. Montenegro.
- This is some... - How do I deal with Hodgins?
I mean, we broke up so I just want it to be over with so I can get back
to work without this unspoken drama, you know what I'm saying?
First I think it's important to find out what went wrong,
why you were involved in an unsuccessful relationship.
Who said it was unsuccessful?
- You're not together anymore, are you? - Do you love your parents?
- Yes. - But you don't live together anymore.
Does that mean your relationship with Mom and Dad was unsuccessful?
- I don't think it's the same. - I do.
Sometimes you have to move on, whatever your feelings.
When we create intimate sexual relationships,
and if the relationship isn't functioning the way it should,
one is left with anxiety
and confusion that will remain until dealt with.
Okay.
So let's deal with it.
No, it's going to take longer than us sitting here for a few minutes.
We need to find out why you were attracted to him in the first place.
He has kind eyes, great sense of humor.
Cute ass.
- He does this thing where... - No. No.
I meant what are those things in your past
that have led you to Dr. Hodgins
and what he represents to you as an archetype.
You know what? I'm going to look at my schedule.
But we should probably start by meeting twice a week.
No.
I think I'm okay.
Therapy can't be rushed.
Look, Sweets, the way I look at it,
if I'm shot by an arrow, I-I don't need to know where the arrow was made,
or what kind of bow it came from, or
even who it was who shot me.
I just need to get it out of my chest.
So... thank you.
This has been helpful.
You're good.
Thanks for the fries.
Go ahead.
Help yourself.
Found another mystery stain on this piece of her skirt.
It's body fluid, so...
it's your problem.
What have we here?
Do you think I'm off my game because of Angela?
Because we have all this residual stuff between us?
Every time I look at her, I still think about...
- Semen. - What? No.
I was going to say something much more romantic than that.
This stain... It's semen.
Right.
I was also given a swatch of carpet from the copy room that had a stain.
Also semen.
So now we know victim was on the floor of the copy room
and that there were semen stains on the floor and now on her skirt.
My guess is the stains will match.
Patty Hoyle ordered food Friday night,
had it delivered to the office.
Guess whose credit card she used?
Well, I really don't have enough data to make an educated guess.
Oh, her boss'. Gary Flannery.
So, Cam is comparing the semen found on the floor
with the stain found on the skirt.
Seems like Pretty Patty was sleeping her way up the food chain
- with the boss. - Flannery is married.
Maybe she threatened to expose the affair,
and he decided to kill her to keep her quiet.
Just because tech support is in India doesn't mean I get special treatment.
- Patty knew that. - Just call them, please.
Excuse me.
Mr. Flannery, like to ask you a few questions
about your credit card statement.
I'd like to ask him for a DNA sample.
Now.
Patty was a valued employee and that is all.
Come on, you think I'm gonna slam you for having a little fun?
It happens.
Late night meetings, a little cleavage.
No. I-I'm a married man.
Why did you give her your credit card?
For the the occasional business expense.
Room service, massage,
shiatsu one hour, a purse,
$300 worth of lingerie.
I was not having sex with Patty!
- Why did she have your credit card? - And semen on her skirt.
No!
Patty decided to run an expendables audit,
all right, she wanted to account for every damn pencil.
Then she found out I was ordering extra office supplies
and selling the surplus online.
She was going to report me to corporate.
But she said she'd keep her mouth shut if I let her use my card now and then.
Oh, she had the whole office under her thumb, knew everyone's business.
Sneaky bitch.
So she was blackmailing you.
That's not easy to stop, is it?
But I didn't kill her.
Please.
You can't tell the head office.
I've got a family. I could lose my job, my health care, my pension...
Shut up. Open your mouth.
What have you found?
The pelvis?
The anteroposterior diameter is 160 millimeters.
Transverse diameter is 240 millimeters.
Listen to me.
Reducing the pelvic inlet,
the orifice of life, to a numerical abstract.
We need mathematical constructs
to understand any aspect of our world, Mr. Fisher.
And those figures and equations are beautiful.
Like a musical composition, they give life meaning
and us the possibility of knowing the unknowable.
Right.
There's no evidence that the body was disarticulated prior to
being shoved down the chute, so she either went in headfirst or feetfirst.
Given that, I've cut a hole that corresponds
to the measurements of the chute.
There's only one problem.
Any way you turn it, the pelvis won't fit.
So, the body couldn't have entered the shaft by that chute.
But since it still had to fall a minimum of 60 meters...
It was dumped from the 16th floor.
I'll call Booth.
DNA results came back.
The two semen stains are a match--
the one from her skirt and the one from the copy room floor.
But they're not from her boss. Sorry.
Uh... hi.
Look, this tension between us, I hate it.
I-I mean, I know that we broke up and everything,
but I've experience loss before and lived through it and... you have, too.
I'm not gonna pretend this didn't happen because it might be easier to break up.
I'm going to relive us huddled last winter
in that cabin in Montana when the lights went out and the heat went out
and laughing our asses off when you tried explaining
that spectrometer thingy to me.
So, I am not going to hide anymore, and I'm not going to walk on eggshells.
I am just going to accept that the whole damn mess happened and, pain or not,
I'm glad it did.
Okay.
So, forensics didn't find any prints?
No.
Cleaning crew came in over the weekend and wiped down all the elevator doors.
Eh, no blood.
- What's that? - What?
That.
Those are my cupcakes.
I got them for the HR officer at work. I heard she loves them.
So, fraud and bribery?
No. 12 years of service and lumbar support, okay.
It's all a matter of perception.
Okay.
Don't say it like that.
"Okay," like I'm some kind of a kid.
Okay.
It's looking pretty good, too, Bones.
I mean, Willie Ackerman, he got cut off
the list 'cause he got his note from
an acupuncturist, and that doesn't even count.
Hah! Boob.
Watch out, I'm going to try this again.
Oh, man.
Ah, forget it!
There's no way
that I could keep that open long enough to dump a body, and I'm in shape.
Must have been someone that was stronger than you.
You're kidding me? Have you seen the people in these offices?
Compared to them, I am Hercules.
Well, apparently not.
Maybe you do need that chair.
Or maybe it was two people.
1,263 bone fragments
and I've checked every single one of them.
And the only cause of death I see is on the squamous temporal bone.
The localized staining would be consistent with blunt force trauma.
Except there's no sign of that on the exterior of the skull.
Then it was probably caused by a ruptured aneurysm.
Which would make her death an accident.
And our pursuit for a villain merely a cry for justice in an unjust world.
But if it's an accident, it wouldn't account for the elevator or the semen.
True.
I should have found that earlier.
Dr. Brennan's going to fire me, isn't she?
I guess while I was trying to see
the metaphorical sun, I totally forgot that the chances of survival
- in an unfriendly cosmos... - Have you considered Prozac?
Already on it.
Then double your dose 'cause you're bringing me down,
and that's hard to do, 'cause I have worked with death for years
and you are making it all look like good times now.
So, get it together, okay, Eeyore?
- What have you found? - An aneurysm.
It should have been caused by trauma to the ectocranial
surface, but there's no evidence of trauma at all.
Very good, Mr. Fisher.
What do you see there?
Two tiny punctures, approximately seven millimeters apart.
And what's very good?
I totally missed them.
You found the hemorrhagic stain that led us here.
- So what caused them? - Snake fangs?
Eastern pipistrelle bat? Uh, a vampire?
Fingerprint powder.
What are you doing?
A fine horizontal bar
terminating in two vertical protrusions.
Oh, my God.
She was killed by a staple.
A staple?
How do you kill somebody with a staple?
It perforated the thinnest part of the calvarium...
the squamous temporal bone...
causing Miss Hoyle's preexisting aneurysm to rupture.
And how do you get somebody to stand still while you staple them?
There's a small depression near the wound
that suggests the stapler was thrown.
So whoever did this didn't mean to kill her.
- No, I can't confirm that. - It's common sense.
One doesn't usually use a stapler as a murder weapon,
and they certainly couldn't have known that she had an aneurysm.
- I'll concede on both points. - Tell you what
My boys are looking for the murder weapon. Maybe we can pull some prints.
So Patty has sex with someone who then hits her with a stapler.
It's an odd work environment.
Okay, you are not going to believe this.
Yeah, try topping death by office supplies.
I was wracking my brain over the trace analysis from the sweater.
Furfural, proteolytic enzyme,
- triarylmethane dye... - Hodgins, Hodg-Hodgins.
Eyes are glazing over.
It's a blue Hawaiian.
- What's a blue Hawaiian? - Well, it's a potent cocktail.
Two of those puppies and you're asking yourself,
"Hey, why am I naked and who are all these people?"
Brilliant blue FCF from the blue curaçao,
furfural from the rum, proteolytic enzyme--
pineapple, alcohol speaks for itself.
Is this the sort of beverage they would serve at the Paradise Isle?
Yeah, comes in one of those ceramic monkey heads.
So the killer must have stepped in spilled drink.
Given the high level of fructose and sugarcane,
it would have adhered to his shoe. He stomps on the victim, and presto,
her sweater lights up with more traces than a luau pig.
Dave was at Paradise Isle, but his, his alibi checks out.
Yeah, but Dave was there with Chip,
who gave him a ride home,
but we don't know what Chip did for the rest of the night.
- Good work, Hodgins. - Thanks.
Now you can have a French fry. Hey, man, right?
Hey, you know, uh...
I think Angela and I are cool now.
We talked, and I think...
- Brennan. - You know what?
Just keep it to yourself.
- We'll be right there. - You can have all the fries you want.
Pay for the bill, too.
- to talk to you guys about - Thanks, Hodgins.
Angela.
I was filing the DNA test I ran on Gary's saliva.
Ah, it does match after all.
No, but I did double-check
the semen sample from the victim's skirt with the one on the floor
and they do match.
And according to the deterioration of the sperm tail,
the ejaculate is from Friday night.
That must have been some happy hour.
The night she was murdered.
You can tell all that from their little tails?
Yes, and I can also tell that our man is probably of Asian descent.
Oh, by the way they swim.
No.
From 42 specific DNA sequences.
Yeah, probably more exact.
I'm not sure if that's helpful.
There are 3 billion Asian people in the world.
- But only one who works in the office. - And he was at Paradise Isle.
We found the murder weapon, Chip.
- A stapler? - Yep, a stapler.
Picked it up in a Dumpster behind your building.
Someone threw it at her.
We found some of Patty's hair embedded in the slide,
as well as a trace of blood.
So, uh, what do you need from me?
I'll help any way I can.
I liked Patty.
Enough to make love to her in the copy room on the floor?
God, no.
She was my boss.
We also found semen on the floor of the copy room and on her skirt.
The DNA showed it was from an Asian male.
You're the only person of Asian descent in the office, Chip.
Look at this.
We have a, uh, court order here for your DNA.
Okay, you're right.
I was sleeping with Patty,
but I wanted to end it,
so I had a couple drinks to get up my courage and went back to the office.
Then what happened?
I told her we had to stop because we were going to get caught.
She threatened to report me for sexual harassment
if I didn't keep sleeping with her.
She was calling Gary to report me.
- So you threw the stapler at her? - It...
hit her in the head a-and she just dropped.
She had an aneurysm.
You ruptured it.
- I didn't know. - Then what?
I... had to get rid of her.
I... I panicked,
dragged her into the hall, opened the elevator doors, and...
shoved her down the shaft.
How?
W-What do you mean, "how?"
It must have been the adrenaline.
Enough of that, you can lift a car, right?
Is this enough adrenaline for you?
Okay.
Look at that-- two people.
- Who's helping you? - No one. It was just me.
Somebody had to have helped you hold the doors open while you kicked
- her down the shaft. - No.
Who are you protecting, Chipper?
- Can you take the door? - Got it, got it.
All right.
Okay, what is that?
It looks like a piece of fingernail, blue nail polish.
Chip tried to protect me?
Yes.
That's just like him, you know?
Whenever I have too many calls on hold, he'd always answer the phone.
He totally didn't have to do that.
The best way for you to help him is just to tell me the truth.
Okay, well...
we both have roommates...
so... sometimes...
we'd make love in the office.
We were in the copy room
and we thought we were alone,
but Patty came back for something
and she caught us,
and she said she was going to report us.
I mean, no one in the office could date. It was against company policy.
She said we'd both be fired.
So you threw the stapler.
I-I was so sick of her sticking her nose in everything.
Sh-She went over to the phone to report us to Gary, and...
... I threw the stapler.
I didn't, I didn't mean to kill her.
I just wanted to be with Chip.
I see you got your throne.
That's right.
The chair.
Looks nice.
Another victory for the hive.
HR said you called.
Yes, but I didn't lie to them. I wouldn't do that.
Well, you must have said something because she didn't even eat her cupcakes
and the chair was here.
No, I just told them why
I felt it was important for you to have it, that's all.
And, uh, why is that? Because even a mindless drone...
... deserves some perks?
No, because of how important you are to them.
I mentioned your dedication and courage and sensitivity.
- Sensitivity? - Yes, Booth.
I mean, even today with that young woman who killed her boss,
it's very impressive.
Anyway, I said that a chair is a good way
to show the other employees in the office
how much those qualities are valued.
Hmm, well, it worked.
I'll never understand why you felt you had to lie to get the chair.
I mean, you could have just told them about yourself on your own.
Well, because that would have been bragging, even though it was true.
- You okay? - Yeah, no, it was just...
I think some of the padding in the back here is worn out
When I lean back, it's hits
So ageing counts in oversee to the attributes to the chair.
No, no, this thing is great, you kidding me?
It's a...
even old to make tick
doesn't tilt back... yet.
And it smells like a 300 pound dead guy.
- So you like it. - You're kidding me?
Love it.
I give this baby up brilly?
You know, that all up and down thing is little touchy.