"The Intern in the Incinerator"

Episode 3x06

Written By: Christopher Ambrose

Directed by: Jeff Woolnough

Transcribed by: frogggirl2

Disclaimer: The characters, plotlines, quotes, etc. included here are owned by Hart Hanson, all rights reserved. This transcript is not authorized or endorsed by Hart Hanson or Fox.

TEASER

(Interior - Day - Sirens are blaring and lights are flashing in a brick basement at the Jeffersonian. Two men in overalls enter and walk down the corridor)

JANITOR #1: Smoke comes out of the vents in the first floor break rooms.

JANITOR #2: You're sure you turned the flame down last night?

JANITOR #1: Totally, one hundred percent guaranteed, positively sure. Alarms gone off before but the smoke was always gray.

JANITOR #2: One time a possum got caught in the shaft, smoke came out like this.

JANITOR #1: Dr. Addy was conducting an experiment on a pig yesterday. I told all them eggheads not to toss d*ad animals down the incinerator shaft.

JANITOR #2: (They stop in front of the incinerator door) Since when do they listen to us. (Opens the incinerator door)

JANITOR #1: Holy crap! (Covers his mouth, coughing)

JANITOR #2: (Looking inside) Definitely not pork!

(Camera pans into the incinerator. A burnt body lies inside above the flames. Cut to later, f*re is out and Brennan and Cam are looking inside.)

BRENNAN: At four hundred degrees, bone chars in six hours and turns to ash in eight.

CAM: Charring, no ash. Six to eight hours? Dumped into the incinerator between one and three a.m. (Booth enters behind Cam and Brennan, who do not notice )

BOOTH: Ugh. Alive or d*ad before he or she went into the incinerator?

CAM: Can't tell yet.

BRENNAN; (Turning to Booth and notice a file in his hand) What's that?

BOOTH: Guest log. ((Looking at the file) No visitors checked out after nine thirty-six last night, and no one checked in before eight o' two this morning.

CAM: Meaning the victim probably works here.

BRENNAN: Meaning the k*ller does too.

(Interior - Day - Autopsy room at the Jeffersonian. Brennan is looking at the computer screen while Cam examines the remains.)

BRENNAN: Pubic bone is female.

CAM: There's no carbon in the trachea. (Pulls out the trachea and unrolls it like a fruit rollup) She was d*ad before she was thrown down the chute.

BRENNAN: Extensive fissures, fractures and breaks to the entire skeleton. I'll have Zack determine which were caused by heat and which by trauma. (Angela enters)

ANGELA: Heads up, they called Bancroft in from a hearing on the hill.

BRENNAN: Who's Bancroft again?

CAM: God.

ANGELA: The supreme honcho of the Jeffersonian.

BRENNAN: I think I met him once.

ANGELA: Okay, I am ready to start the facial reconstruction. (Brennan removes the skull from the rest of the remains and places it on a surgical tray)

BRENNAN: I haven't put on tissue depth markers yet.

CAM: I haven't finished removing all the carbonized brain matter. (Angela comes to a halt in front of the skull, and stares at it intensly, horrified)

BRENNAN: Once you've done that, Zack can clean the skull. (As Angela stares at the skull it changes from burnt to a whole, healthy female face.) Angela? Angela? Angela?

ANGELA: Yeah?

CAM: Are you alright?

BRENNAN: What's wrong?

ANGELA: (Looking anxiously at the skull) Um . . . Uh . . I'm fine. I'll start after the tissue markers are . . . Let me know. (Angela exits.)

CAM: What the hell was that about?

ACT I

(Interior - Day - Angela's office at the Jeffersonian. Angela is looking at an image of the skull on her computer. Brennan enters.)

ANGELA: You won't like it.

BRENNAN: Like what?

ANGELA: I've ID'd the victim.

BRENNAN: That's impossible.

ANGELA: I told you you wouldn't like it.

BRENNAN: There are no tissue markers, you can't just look at a skull and see the person.

ANGELA: Sweetie, I've done hundreds of these reconstructions: the depressed labella, the narrow nasal aperture, the chipped lateral incisor.

BRENNAN: You can see a face from that?

ANGELA: The chipped tooth was from a skiing accident when she was sixteen.

BRENNAN: Ange. You know the victim personally?

ANGELA: (sighing and pulling up an image of an young, attractive blonde on the computer) Kristen Reardon. She's an intern, we had coffee a couple of times. (Walking over to the couch) She didn't want to be a scientist. She wanted to go into design. She was jut here to make her father happy. She was young and eager and keen and . . . she was just really, really young.

BRENNAN: Wait, Reardon. (Walking to Angela) As in Dr. Ted Reardon?

ANGELA: Yeah, he used to work here. (Sitting down on the couch)

BRENNAN: I took a course from him in ancient pharmacology. (Sitting in the chair across from Angela)

ANGELA: Look, I know that we can't say anything until you do the tissue markers and we go through channels, but, I'm telling you, I know this is Kristen.

BRENNAN: Poor Ted.

ANGELA: You wanna know something else? She was seeing somebody who worked here.

BRENNAN: Is that relevant?

ANGELA: Well, Booth will think so. Especially since it was a married man.

BRENNAN: Well, did she tell you?

ANGELA: No, just that they had had their first kiss at the opening of that Egyptian exhibit and that it had been hot and heavy ever since.

BRENNAN: I'm sorry, Ange.

ANGELA: No, I'm-I'm sorry. I'm just really freaked out by this one.

BRENNAN: Because you know the victim.

ANGELA: Well, and the k*ller! I mean, look around! Do you like thinking that somebody we see every day could've thrown Kristen down the incinerator?

(Interior - Day - Platform above the Main Examination area at the Jeffersonian. Bancroft and Booth are standing across from each other, Booth leaning against the table.)

BANCROFT: How can I aid your investigation?

BOOTH: Well, Dr. Bancroft, I'd like print outs from the Jeffersonian's security detailing who was and was not in the building BANCROFT: Done.

BOOTH: I'd also appreciate it if you'd tell your people to cooperate with the FBI. (Bancroft moves toward Booth)

BANCROFT: Yes, of course, Agent Booth. I don't know if you've had much cause to work with scientists; difficult people, by nature, combative, skeptical, resistant.

BOOTH: I've noticed.

BANCROFT: Have you identified the victim yet?

BOOTH: Unofficially? (Bancroft nods) An intern by the name of Kristen Reardon.

BANCROFT: No relation to Ted Reardon?

BOOTH: His daughter. Dr. Reardon left the Jeffersonian for George Town University?

BANCROFT: In the interest of full disclosure I was instrumental in that move.

BOOTH: You fired him.

BANCROFT: I facilitated a necessary change.

BOOTH: Necessary change.

BANCROFT: Excellent scientist, poor administrator. Does Reardon know about his daughter?

BOOTH: Dr. Brennan is informing him now.

BANCROFT: I'd like to be kept in the loop on this, within the constraints of the law of course. (Raises his hand for Booth to shake it.)

BOOTH: (chuckling, and shaking hands) Sure.

(Interior - Day - Main examination area of the Jeffersonian. Cam and Booth are watching through the window as Brennan tells Reardon about his daughter.)

CAM: Ted Reardon? Victims's father?

BOOTH: Yep, Bones is telling him his daughter's d*ad.

CAM: Rumor has it, Bancroft banished Reardon from the Jeffersonian because he felt thr*at, politically.

BOOTH: I know. Let's leave Bones to it. (They walk away)

CAM: Would it be insensitive to mention that my father's sixtieth birthday is coming up?

BOOTH: Sixty already? Wow!

CAM: Uh-huh. We're having a big birthday dinner for him on Thursday night.

BOOTH: Alright, you give him my best!

CAM: You do it yourself. You have to come with me!

BOOTH: What? No! Not your family.

CAM: I can't spend the night defending the fact that I still live alone to my family.

BOOTH: You never told them we broke up?

CAM: You wanna' make a man miserable on his sixtieth birthday.

BOOTH: You want me to pretend that I'm your boyfriend?

CAM: Yes, between six-thirty and ten on Thursday.

BOOTH: (Groaning) Camille, you're an adult. You can't live your life afraid of what your family thinks!

CAM: Seeley, it's not going to be like this forever. One day he'll die! (Cam exits)

(Interior - Day - Bone storage room. Booth is standing outside the door, talking to Brennan who is going inside)

BOOTH: Tough going in there?

BRENNAN: I've never had to tell someone his child is d*ad. I mean, I've been there when you did it, but, to actually . . . it's extremely unpleasant.

BOOTH: Yeah. (Moving from the doorway into the room) Listen, did you get a change to, uh, ask him about his daughter's love life?

BRENNAN: Yes, he said as far as he knew she wasn't seeing anyone.

BOOTH: Kristen was lying to her father.

KLIMKEW: (A slight man with glasses, Dr. Klimkew, enters) Dr. Brennan, is it true? Kristin Reardon is d*ad?

BRENNAN: Evan, special agent Booth. He's in charge of the m*rder investigation. (To Booth) Dr. Evan Klimkew, Kristen Reardon's supervisor.

KLIMKEW: m*rder? Kristen was m*rder?

BOOTH: What does Kristen Reardon do?

KLIMKEW: Authentications. Other museums and high end collectors use us to authenticate their acquisitions.

BOOTH: That a big department?

KLIMKEW: Three to five interns, all doctoral candidates, my assistant and myself. That's it.

BOOTH: It's a competitive environment, right?

KLIMKEW: Of course. You put a bunch of neurotic, Type-A overachievers together and you dangle a prize over their head.

BRENNAN: Dr. Klimkew is referring to the Bates fellowship.

KLIMKEW: The top intern receives seventy-five thousand dollars and a gold star on their resume. Kristen was the frontrunner.

BRENNAN: I had heard that her heart wasn't in it.

KLIMKEW: Didn't show in her work. God, this is terrible. Does her father know?

BOOTH: Who was the main rival for the Bates money?

KLIMKEW: Uh, that would be Neil Tyler.

BOOTH: Neil Tyler. Where can I find him?

KLIMKEW: We're authenticating the artifacts in you're serial k*ller vault.

BOOTH: So, what does your wife think of these, uh, (pointing at Klimkew's wedding ring) you know, these late hours?

KLIMKEW: (Puts his hands in his pockets) I'm separated. That's your answer.

BOOTH: Seeing anyone now?

KLIMKEW: Are you serious?

BRENNAN: It's a m*rder investigation Evan.

KLIMKEW: No, I'm not seeing anyone.

BOOTH: Thank you, Dr. Klimkew.

(Interior - Day - Serial k*ller vault ("Gormogon") at the Jeffersonian. Neil Tyler, young, African-American, is bent over an artifact with a magnifying glass. Booth and Brennan are standing and watching)

TYLER: The spinner appears to be Masonic in origin: bloodstone, gold. What's interesting is, in the center, instead of the traditional "G" for God, there's a skull.

BRENNAN: Gormogon iconography.

TYLER: Strange, huh?

BOOTH: Gormogon? Okay, what's that?

BRENNAN: It's an eighteenth century . . .

TYLER: It's an extinct group (standing) dedicated to eradicating the influence of the Free Masons and Illuminati in Europe in the eighteenth century. That could be the largest collection of Gormogon artifacts in the world.

BOOTH: That's great. You and Kristen Reardon were here last night?

TYLER: That's right. Kristen worked there. (Pointing to Kristen's desk) I signed out around midnight. Kristen stayed longer, like always.

BOOTH: Okay, a little resentful, there?

TYLER: I worked my way though state college. I've got a second job, which is why I had to leave early. Kristen went to an Ivy League School and her dad's got connections. Who do you think needed that Bates fellowship more?

BOOTH: Well, the way I hear it, you're next in line for a big payday, pal.

TYLER: I liked Kristen and she liked me. Check the logs, I wasn't here. (Brennan moves to examine Kristen's desk)

BRENNAN: Do you know who Kristen was seeing?

TYLER: You mean like romantically? No. Only that it was an older guy and she said I was gonna' be really surprised when I find out who it was.

BOOTH: How about you? You married?

TYLER: (Chuckles) I'm gay, Agent Booth. Excuse Me. (Tyler exits. Brennan picks up a bag from the desk)

BOOTH: What do you got?

BRENNAN: Kristen Reardon's bag.

BOOTH: Ah, a cell phone . . . logs. (Booth looks through the recent calls)

(Interior - Night - The walkways above the main examination area at the Jeffersonian. Booth and Brennan walking through)

BRENNAN: The bag tells us that Kristen was leaving the museum when she met with her k*ller.

BOOTH: Look at that, a lot of calls to the same number. Let's hope it's our cheating husband.

BRENNAN: Kristen was authenticating exhibits from the Gormogon vault.

BOOTH: Let's not go there.

BRENNAN: If Gormogon k*lled her, then Gormogon is one of us, somebody who works at the Jeffersonian.

BOOTH: You went there.

BRENNAN: What? (Booth and Brennan come to a halt in front of a window)

BOOTH: You went there and you gave him a nickname! (A body falls outside the window) That just happened, right? You saw that? (Brennan nods and they both run)

(Exterior - Night - Outside of the Jeffersonian. A small security vehicle, sirens blaring approaches a group of security guards. Brennan and Booth hop out. They run towards the guards)

BRENNAN: Who is it?

BOOTH: Is he d*ad? (The guards are holding Zack and Hodgins, arms behind their backs)

ZACK: Yes, but only because he was never alive.

BOOTH: You gotta be kidding me.

HODGINS: Look at this, the Gestapo's interfering with free inquiry.

BOOTH: Guys, just let him go and if they try to escape, sh**t 'em! What's with the dummy, dummies?

ZACK: Not a dummy, it's an ersatz skeleton made from glass and reinforced nylon, which breaks exactly like human bone.

HODGINS: We threw it from the top floor.

BRENNAN: Explicate your process, please.

ZACK: Using bone density tables, we duplicated Kristen's exact height and weight.

BOOTH: For God's sake, why?!

HODGINS: To prove that Kristen Reardon was d*ad before her skull fractured from falling down the incinerator shaft!

BOOTH: We already know that!

ZACK: We recreated her bone density and found that her skull would not have fractured the way it did from a fall less than twenty-five meters.

BRENNAN: Oh!

BOOTH: Oh, what?! English, please!

BRENNA: That tells us the body was put in the trash chute on the top floor of our building.

HODGINS: The office suites. It's always the suits, baby.

BOOTH: Hey, I wear suits.

HODGINS: Yes, yes you do.

BOOTH: (To Guards) Alright, that's it, no sh**ting of the squints tonight, sorry. Alright, good work. (Dispersing the crowd of guards and onlookers) (To Brennan) Let's go Bones. (Booth and Brennan exit, Hodgins and Zack bump fists).

(Interior - Night - Autopsy room at the Jeffersonian. Cam and Booth are looking at a screen showing the remains)

CAM: Kristen Reardon was s*ab to death; aorta and left lung both punctured.

BOOTH: Whoa. She bleed a lot?

CAM: Through the wound, through her mouth, copious amounts. (Moving toward her desk, Booth following)

CAM: Booth, everyone's coming around to the opinion that Kristen Reardon's death had something to do with the Gormogon vault.

BOOTH: Oh, no, no, no, no, no. See we-we gotta squelch that one 'cause that will totally shift the focus of this investigation.

CAM: You might've noticed but these people are tough to squelch.

BOOTH: You know what, they're always telling us not to jump to conclusions.

CAM: When they do it, it's called a "quantum leap."

BOOTH: Jump, leap, tomato, "tomato", what's the difference? Look, um, does the name (pulling his note pad out of his jacket pocket) Aldridge mean anything to you?

CAM: Rings a bell, yeah, why?

BOOTH: 'Cause there was no blood near the incinerator chute on the top floor.

CAM: The body could've been wrapped in plastic or transported in a tub (pulling a picture on the computer). There's a Dr. Kyle Aldrige heads up the middle east department, why?

BOOTH: Hm, do they have offices in this building?

CAM: Middle east department is in building S, but it joins up to this building by skyway, why?

BOOTH: What floor does the skyway connect with?

CAM: Top floor, and I'm gonna' ask why again and your gonna' tell me.

BOOTH: Yeah, this guy Aldrige's number is all over Kristen's cell phone. Just hold on. (Pulling out his cell and making a call) Yeah, it's Booth, check out all the office in the adjoining building on the top floor and start with a Dr. K. Aldrige. (Flips the phone shut) Cam, this case . . .

CAM: Yes, you still have to come to my father's birthday dinner.

BOOTH: I didn't even bring that up, I'm just saying . . .

CAM: Nice try.

BOOTH: Nice try, what?

CAM: Zip! (Making a zipping motion over her mouth)

BOOTH: I didn't even . . .

CAM: Tzz!

(Interior - Night - Above the main examination area at the Jeffersonian. Booth and Dr. Kyle Aldrige are sitting at the table. Booth is looking at a picture of Aldrige in a magazine.)

BOOTH: Ah, the good life. Dr. Kyle Aldrige. Mansion next to Teddy Kennedy on Dupont Circle. A sixty foot yacht and a vacation home in the Hamptons. Wow. I wish I'd paid more attention during science class.

ALDRIGE: Intelligence is not a matter of will, Agent Booth. So it's not a character flaw to be less intelligent than someone else.

BOOTH: Yeah, listen, I appreciate the pep talk. Listen, our first suspect would usually be your wife but since she's been in Venice for a month . . . Venice. So, how is it that somebody who makes eighty grand a year can lend Ted Kennedy his lawn mower and afford to send his wife off to Venice?

ALDRIGE: My wife's family is very generous.

BOOTH: How generous do you think they would be if they found out you were boinking an intern?

ALDRIGE: They teach you that technique at Quantico? Spring vulgarities on the unspectign suspect and he will confess all?

BOOTH: Are you confessing all?

ALDRIGE: To the affair or to m*rder? (An FBI Agent enters)

AGENT #1: Excuse me, Agent Booth, there's something your gonna' wanna see in Dr. Aldrige's work room.

(Interior - Night - Dr. Aldrige's work room. Agents, Booth, Brennan and Aldrige stand around a spot on the floor)

AGENT #1: Lights, please! (When the lights turn off the blue light Agent #1 is holding shows blood on the floor, he moves to shed light on a wheelbarrow that is in the room.)

BRENNAN: Look at all that blood. That explains how the body was transported over to the incinerator sh**t. (The light shines behind the wheelbarrow, exposing a path of blood leading to the desk) This must be where Kristen Reardon was actually m*rder.

BOOTH: Alright, put the lights on. (Booth pulls out his handcuffs) Dr. Aldrige I'd like to ask you a few questions about the m*rder of Kristen Reardon. We gonna' go willingly?

ACT II

(Interior - Day - Main examination area at the Jeffersonian. Hodgins is examining a sample, Angela looking at her clipboard, sitting on a stool and Zack working at the computer.)

HODGINS: I never liked Kyle Aldrige.

ZACK: He told me once that having a high I.Q. was no excuse not to bathe.

ANGELA: I don't believe it.

ZACK: No, those were his exact words, "no excuse not to bathe"

(Cam enters)

CAM: What do you got? (Zack raises his hand)

ZACK: (moves to point to the damage on the skeleton which is standing up like a medical dummy) Consistent with the trauma to the left lung and aorta, C-7 vertebra and the fifth rib were both nicked at a sixty-seven degree angle suggesting a single point of entry.

CAM: Through the back? (Zack nods)

ANGELA: The serial k*ller eats human flesh, Kyle Aldrige is a vegetarian.

HODGINS: So was h*tler!

ZACK: We're calling him Gormogon now.

HODGINS: Excellent name! And, historically accurate.

CAM: People! You have to stop assuming that Gormogon was in any way involved in Kristen's death.

ZACK: Why? It's somewhere between a possibility and a probability.

ANGELA: Kyle Aldrige is not a cannibal.

CAM: But he may have k*lled his girlfriend, do you see the difference?

HODGINS: Mm.

CAM: So, eyes on the evidence, okay? (Claps her hands twice) Go.

HODGINS: (Angela moves off the stool and Hodgins moves over to the computer) Zack provided me with the fragments.

ZACK: Retrieved from the fifth rib.

HODGINS: Running it through the GC Mass Spec.

CAM: What about the incinerator?

HODGINS: I analyzed the ashes in the incinerator and found carbonized traces of cedrus libani. It's a species of cedar fir from Lebanon.

ANGELA: The middle east is Aldrige's area of study.

HODGINS: And the Mesopotamians used cedar as an odor neutralizer to mask the smell of burning flesh?

CAM: Can you see Aldrich committing a crime of passion and using his knowledge to cover it up?

ANGELA: I guess. He's kind of (begins making unrecognizable grunting sounds. Zack looks confused, Hodgins smiles).

CAM: Exactly, how well do you know Aldrige?

ANGELA: We had drinks. I don't sleep with married men.

ZACK: You're married and you sleep with men beside your husband. What's the difference? (Hodgins, looking irritated, smacks Zack in the back of the head.)

(Exterior - Day - FBI Headquarters.)

(Interior - Day - FBI Headquarters. Booth and Brennan exit the elevator.)

BRENNAN: Why do you want me to interrogate Aldrige?

BOOTH: Because he thinks I'm stupid.

BRENNAN: You're not!

BOOTH: Thanks, Bones, I know. Listen, during the interrogation, always refer to the victim by her first name.

BRENNAN: Well, you're the one that told me that personalizing the victim doesn't work with sociopathic serial K*llers. They lack all empathy. (Poking Booth) You told me that!

BOOTH: We are not looking for gorgonzola today!

BRENNAN: Gormogon. Gor-mo-gon.

BOOTH: We're looking for someone who m*rder one girl and tossed her down an incinerator chute. Entirely different kind of a guy, so, inside. (shooing her into the interrogation room)

BRENNAN: Don't- tell me- Don't- (pointing and resisting) You are not bossing me (smacks his hand). Stop it. (enters room)

(Interior - Day - Interrogation Room. Aldrige is sitting at the table, Brennan enters and sits. Dr. Reardon and Booth are behind the glass, watching).

DR. REARDON: Kyle Aldrige seduced my daughter?

BOOTH: That's what we hope to find out, doc.

BRENNAN: It was definitely Kristen's blood on your work table.

ALDRIGE: That proves only she was k*lled in my work room. Why am I talking to you?

BRENNAN: What time did you leave the Jeffersonian that night?

ALDRIGE: Shortly after eleven. (leaning forward) Dr. Brennan, surely I merit someone higher up the food chain than an FBI consultant.

BRENNAN: Kyle, (leaning forward) I know you get everything you want by flaunting your superior intellect, but that won't work with me.

ALDRIGE: Why is that?

BRENNAN: Because I'm smarter than you are. So why don't we do the rational thing and cut to the chase. (leaning back) Where you having an affair with Kristen?

ALDRIGE: I'm not willing to comment on that.

BRENNAN: Again, I know you were. You first kissed at the opening of the Egyptian exhibit. (Dr. Reardon tears up)

ALDRIGE: Obviously Kristen was indiscreet. (Booth looks at Dr. Reardon as he takes a breath, blinking)

BRENNAN: If your wife knew about Kristen, she'd leave you, correct? And you'd no longer be rich. (leaning forward) See the FBI they call that a motive. They think you did this, Dr. Aldrige, and so far the evidence is on their side. Can you tell me anything that would suggest otherwise?

ALDRIGE: Yes. But first I need to speak with a lawyer and make arrangements with a federal prosecutor.

BRENNAN: Sounds like you wanna' cut a deal.

ALDRIGE: I've told you what I need., so either have me arrested or let me make those arrangements. (Brennan looks and Booth, Booth looks at Dr. Reardon and Brennan leans back.)

(Interior - Night - Main Examination Area at the Jeffersonian. Booth enters. Cam is talking to someone who walks away).

BOOTH: Wow! You look great! I mean that objectively, not as your fake boyfriend. (puts his hand on her arm, they begin to walk)

CAM: Thank you.

BOOTH: Hey, got your dad a universal remote. (Cam laughs) Even bought the batteries.

CAM: Oh, he'll never let us brake up.

BOOTH: So, am I driving?

CAM: No, my sister's picking us up but, of course, she's late.

BOOTH: Okay, maybe she's late because there was traffic.

CAM: Maybe she's late because there was a sale.

BOOTH: Oh, great, it's gonna' be one of those nights.

CAM: Hey, it's not me, she's the jealous competitive one.

BOOTH: O-kay!

CAM: You don't think so?!

BOOTH: Look, I'm thinking that you're family. I'm an innocent bystander with a universal remote and batteries trying not to get h*t by shrapnel.

(They stop in front of the autopsy room. Cam's sister Felicia enters. She' s a young, beautiful African-American woman, in a trendy, black dress)

FELICIA: Ready! Sorry, dad is in the car. (Air kisses Cam on booth sides)

CAM: Okay, let me get my things. (exits to autopsy room)

FELICIA: (sighs) There was traffic, not that she'd believe me. (takes out a compact and primps)

BOOTH: No! Traffic, that's exactly what she said. (under his breath) This is gonna' be fun.

FELICIA: Yeah, everyone talking about how perfect Cam's life is.

BOOTH: No, Cam's life is not so perfect. You got a lot going for you.

FELICIA: Yeah? (smiles and closes compact)

BOOTH: Yeah.

FELICIA: What's not so great? Are you and Cam . . .

BOOTH: What? No, no, I should never had said anything FELICIA: Oh you poor baby! (kisses Booth hard on the mouth, running her hands through his hair)

BOOTH: Felicia . . .

FELICIA: You don't have to say anything, I'm here, that's all you need to know. (Booth looks shocked. Cam Enters).

CAM: Okay! (Booth drops the remote. Felicia looks innocent. Booth picks up the remote)

BOOTH: Let's go! Ye-Yeah, okay, you look great! Doesn't she look beautiful?! (Booth puts his arm around Cam and they all begin walking) She looks beautiful!! I am so lucky to have you as my girlfriend.

CAM: Easy big guy, it's gonna' be a long night.

BOOTH: (to himself) Tell me about it.

(Exterior - Day - Jeffersonian)

(Interior - Day - Main Examination area at the Jeffersonian. Angela and Hodgins are walking through.

ANGELA: You know, Jack, you are actually a better candidate to be Gormogon than Kyle Aldrige. (they stop walking)

HODGINS: Really?

ANGELA: You're brilliant, paranoid about conspiracies, I say that lovingly, with limitless resources.

HODGINS: I'm not Gormogon. I don't k*ll people and eat their faces. (Angela nods) I am not waging a secret w*r against anybody. (they kiss, Angela puts her hand on his shoulder)

ANGELA: Great. Now, if I could only get the other thousand or so people who work here to convince me, maybe I could get to sleep tonight.

HODGINS: Oh, I'll help you get to sleep tonight. (Angela laughs)

ANGELA: What's in your file? (they enter Angela's office)

HODGINS: GC Mass Spec analysis of the fragment we pulled from Kristen's rib. It's an eight hundred year old copper.

ANGELA: Wait, wait, the w*apon is an artifact?

HODGINS: I thought we'd see if we can match any of the w*apon in the Jeffersonian with the sample. (Angela sits at the computer)

ANGELA: Well, there is one item. (Hodgins leans over her shoulder) An eight hundred year old copper spear tip. The authentication department checked it out two weeks ago to Dr. Kyle Aldrige in the middle eastern department.

HODGINS: Checked it out from where?

ANGELA: The Gormogon vault.

(Interior - Day - Gormogon vault at the Jeffersonian. Hodgins, Brennan and Klimkew are standing around the artifact, Booth is seated at a stool in back.)

BRENNAN: Tell us about this piece, Dr. Klimkew.

KLIMKEW: (Hodgins lifts the spearhead) The spearhead is genuine, decorative. Probably brought back as a souvenir of the Crusades by a Templar Knight in twelve or thirteen hundred A.D.

BRENNAN: Go ahead, Hodgins.

KLIMKEW: (to Hodgins) What are you doing? (Hodgins applies a solution to a Q-tip and the Q-tip to the spear head)

BOOTH: (standing) Did you see Kyle Aldrige the night that Kristen Reardon was m*rder?

KLIMKEW: Yes. (to Brennan) What is he doing with the spear head?

HODGINS: It's phenolthalein. It won't affect the copper, but if blood is present it'll turn pink.

BOOTH: So, what time did you see the doctor?

KLIMKEW: Uh, eleven. In the parking lot.

BRENNAN: Did you talk?

KLIMKEW: Kyle Aldrige doesn't really talk to anyone beneath him, which is everyone. (Everyone is looking at the Q-tip which is still white.)

HODGINS: It's not the w*apon we're looking for. I'll put it back. (Hodgins exits left).

BRENNAN: Did you know about Aldrige and Kristen?

KLIMKEW: As a couple? Yes.

BOOTH: Kristen told you?

KLIMKEW: I caught them making out. Frankly, I've been surprised ever since that Aldrige didn't use his friendship with Bancroft to have me transferred to some dig in Darfur.

HODGINS: (from left) Help!! (Everyone runs to left) I need some help back here!!

BOOTH: What?

HODGINS: Booth! Booth!

BOOTH: Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on. (Aldrige is hanging from the ceiling by a noose. Hodgins is trying to hold Aldrige up. Hodgins and Booth are grunting. Booth cuts Aldrige down. Everyone helps to lay him down on a nearby table.)

KLIMKEW: I'll call an ambulance.

BOOTH: We don't need an ambulance. He's already d*ad. (Booth and Brennan look over to the silver statue)

ACT III

(Interior - Day - Autopsy Room at the Jeffersonian. Cam is standing over Aldrige's body. Brennan enters.)

CAM: (dictating into wireless headset) That concludes the autopsy of Dr. Kyle Aldrige, written report to follow.

BRENNAN: Booth saw Aldrige's widow. He sent her a su1c1de note by email apologizing for the affair with Kristen and confessing to the k*lling.

CAM: Aldrige did not k*ll himself. The ligature, which was a silk cord from the vault, didn't break his hyoid.

BRENNAN: What was the cause of death?

CAM: I'm stumped; no significant trauma, no cardiac arrest, aneurysm or hematoma. Plus, I did a full tox screen, organics, inorganics, heavy metals and cardiac glycosides, all negatives.

BRENNAN: Well, he was hung up in the vault. It all circles back to the vault.

CAM: It all circles back to the authentications department who happen to be working in the vault.

BRENNAN: Why don't you and Booth think that Gormogon is behind these m*rder?

CAM: Because, as far as we know, he only kills males, and snacks on them. Plus, there are far too many other reasonable suspects.

BRENNAN: Like who?

CAM: The victim's father.

BRENNAN: Ted Reardon?

CAM: He saw you question Aldrige. Booth said he went pale with anger.

BRENNAN: When did he say that?

CAM: Oh, we had dinner the other night when we . . . had dinner. (Hodgins enters carrying a tray holding a rope.)

HODGINS: This cord is actually a hanging rope from England circa sixteen-fifty. (sits down the tray and picks up the rope) In those days, when sentenced to death, nobles often chose a silk cord rather than rough hemp and rope. (looking at the rope which he dangles in this right hand) It'd be cool to know who else might've died on this cord.

BRENNAN: If it came from the vault, the cord probably can't lead us to the m*rder.

HODGINS: Au contraire. The k*ller left DNA. In order to hoist Aldrige, the k*ller wrapped the cord around his forearm (Hodgins wraps the cord around his arm) and pulled.

CAM: Ouch. He left some skin behind?

HODGINS: Yeah, and hair. (puts the rope back on the tray)

CAM: Nice job, Hodgins. We find the guy, we can do a DNA match.

HODGINS: (backing out of the room, carrying the tray) King of the Lab. (exits)

BRENNAN: (looking at the x-ray displayed on the screen behind them) The skeletal muscles are pulling away from the bone. What's his potassium level?

CAM: Uh . . . (turning around to pick up a file folder from the counter) blood serum contains ten milligrams per one-hundred milliliters. Elevated but non-fatal. It's odd though, because his kidneys were healthy; no signs of Addisons or any medication.

BRENNAN: Succinylcholine.

CAM: A muscle relaxant?

BRENNAN: In high doses it stops the heart and lungs.

CAM: Right, the body turns succinylcholine into potassium, which occurs naturally in the body so it's not detected as a toxin.

BRENNAN: Succinylcholine is one of the earliest anesthetics known to man. (smiling) Guess how I know that?

CAM: (also smiling) I read Dr. Reardon's book too. (walking away)

(Interior - Day - Hodgins desk in the main examination area at the Jeffersonian. Booth is playing with glass stir sticks looking down over Hodgins desk. Hodgins enters carrying the tray holding the rope.)

HODGINS: Why are you here?

BOOTH: I'm just waiting for Cam to finish cutting up Aldrige?

HODGINS: She's done. Why are you here in my area?

BOOTH: Cam's sister kissed me.

HODGINS: Duuuuuuuuuuuude. (sits down)

BOOTH: Don't call me dude. Alright, listen, I was supposed to be Cam's boyfriend, but only between the hours of six-thirty and ten. She kissed me at six-twenty so technically that doesn't even count. (Hodgins chuckles) Cam went to her office to get something. Felicia, she just grabbed me and planted one on me. I didn't even see it coming, I didn't even have a defense maneuver planned.

HODGINS: Wow. Alright, alright, uh . . . How are you, (looking over his shoulder) how are you gonna' break it to Cam?

BOOTH: What? Why would I do that?

HODGINS: You want her to find out from her sister?

BOOTH: Wow, this is worse than when we were a couple.

HODGINS: (Hodgins chucles loudly) Sorry. (covers his mouth, giggling)

BOOTH: I really should take my g*n out and sh**t you now.

HODGINS: I'm sorry No, it's serious. (giggling)

BOOTH: You're not helping.

(Exterior - Day - FBI Headquarters)

(Interior - Day - Interrogation Room at FBI Headquarters. Booth is sitting across from Dr. Reardon)

BOOTH: Look, I have a son. If I thought someone hurt him, I'd wanna' hang him.

DR. REARDON: I didn't k*ll Kyle Aldrige.

BOOTH: He was a politically enemy who slept with your daughter, then k*lled her after she thr*at to tell his wife. Juries understand situations like that.

DR. REARDON: There's no proof Kyle Aldrige k*lled me daughter.

BOOTH: Do you need proof?

DR. REARDON: Yes, and for a jury to be sympathetic to me, they'd need proof as well. Do you have that proof, Agent Booth?

BOOTH: (Opening a file folder and passing it across the table) Aldrige didn't die from hanging.

DR. REARDON: (looking at the papers) Succinylcholine poisoning can't be proven.

BOOTH: Right. Nobody know that better than you. (holding up Dr. Reardon's book, "Comparative Studies of Associative Functions in Anesthesiology and Poisons") You literally wrote the book on it, doc. (dropping the book on the table) So, can you role up your sleeves, please? (Dr. Reardon unbuttons and rolls up his sleeves. Dr. Reardon raises his arms; there are no marks.)

(Interior - Day - Main examination area at the Jeffersonian. Cam and Hodgins are looking at a metal fragment on the computer screen)

HODGINS: This is a sample of eight hundred year old bronze.

CAM: Why am I interested in that?

HODGINS: Because we found a fragment of eight hundred year old copper in Kristen Reardon.

CAM: Different metals, right.

HODGINS: Copper is an ingredient in bronze and when Angela accused me of being Gormogon, it started me thinking.

CAM: Angela accused you of being Gormogon?

HODGINS: It started me thinking that you and Booth could be right. (Cam looks at Hodgins intensely) I am NOT Gormogon.

CAM: Booth and I could be right about what?

HODGINS: I put the serial k*ller in the vault out of my mind and started considering Kristen's m*rder as it's own . . . singular . . . occurrence . . . What?

CAM: From the outside you are a pretty good candidate to be Gormogon.

HODGINS: It's possible . . . that the copper in Kristen's wound was an unalloyed chip from a larger piece of bronze, like a chocolate chip that didn't mix in the cake mix.

CAM: And the Jeffersonian's full of bronze w*apon.

HODGINS: None of which are in Gormogon's vault.

CAM: Are you able to match a bronze w*apon to a copper fragment?

HODGINS: Theoretically, but it would take about two hundred years to test every bronze w*apon in the Jeffersonian. (Angela enters)

ANGELA: I might be able to help with that.

(Interior - Day - Angela's office at the Jeffersonian. Zack, Hodgins, Angela and Cam are standing around the Angelator which shows the skeletal structure of a female in green)

ANGELA: I worked up a 3-D model of Kristen's m*rder and I noticed something. This is Kristen. (A red line intersects the figure from upper left to lower right) The angle of att*ck was exactly sixty-seven degrees.

ZACK: As you can see, the w*apon went right though her.

ANGELA: Which is weird.

HODGINS: Why?

ZACK: We've been assuming that Kristen was s*ab.

CAM: Someone would have to be awfully tall to s*ab downward at that angle.

ANGELA: And incredibly strong; six foot eight and three hundred pounds.

ZACK: No one at the Jeffersonian looks like that.

CAM: It'd be pretty tough for someone like that to sneak in.

HODGINS: Alternative explanations?

ZACK: Projectile?

CAM: Blood stain analysis indicates Kristen was k*lled on Aldrige's work table.

ANGELA: And there's no evidence on the surface suggesting that a projectile exited Kristen's body and struck the table, but . . . (image falls backward onto red line which is at a sixty-seven degree angel a horizontal surface)

HODGINS: Kristen was impaled? Like a piece of paper on a message spike.

ANGELA: Visualize a sharp object on the table at a fixed sixty-seven degree angle.j ZACK: The object impales Kristen through the posterior thorax . . .

CAM: exits her anterior thorax . . .

ZACK: still at a sixty-seven degree angel. (Bancroft enters).

BANCROFT: The only rational conclusion is the death itself was accidental. (Angela turns off the simulation) Dr. Aldrige gets in a tiff with his young girlfriend, she pulls out her phone, thr*at to call his wife. They argue, Aldrige reaches for the phone, the girl falls back onto the table.

ANGELA: If you call Aldrige by his name, you really should call the girl by her name.

BANCROFT: At which point he panics and throws Ms. Reardon down the incinerator chute. Overcome with remorse, he arranges to meet with the federal attorney to confess, but before he can do that, guilt destroys him, he hangs himself in the vault symbolically aligning himself with the serial k*ller.

CAM: Whoa, Dr. Bancroft, Dr. Aldrige arranged to meet the federal attorney?

BANCROFT: Through the Jeffersonian in-house counsel. Most likely to confess.

ANGELA: Why didn't he just confess during Dr. Brennan's interrogation?

BANCROFT: "The guilt being great the fear doth still exceed. And extreme fear can neither fight nor fly, but coward-like with trembling terror die."

ZACK: Unfortunately for Mr. Shakespeare, Dr. Aldrige didn't actually commit su1c1de.

HODGINS: He died of succinylcholine poison.

BANCROFT: It's my understanding that that can't be proven. At least not to court standards. I think you'll find my explanation will satisfy any inquest inquiry.

CAM: Dr. Bancroft, it's our professional opinion here in the forensics lab, that Dr. Aldrige was m*rder.

BANCROFT: Fine. Prove it. But watch your backs. Because if I'm wrong and you're right that means that there's still a serial k*ller out there. And if I were the k*ller, you'd be next Ms. Montenegro.

ANGELA: Why me?

BANCROFT: Well, you identified the Reardon girl, you figured our this hologramatic impalement scenario. Be careful. (exits)

ANGELA: I feel like I was just thr*at.

(Interior - Day - Main examination are at the Jeffersonian. Hodgins is standing in front of trays of different implements. Brennan is sitting on a stool behind him and to the right, Booth is looking at a spear behind and to the left.)

HODGINS: I checked every bronze w*apon in the Jeffersonian that matches Angela's criteria, none are consistent with the fragments removed from Kris- (Booth thrusts the spear towards Jack) - ten.

BOOTH: (Puts down the spear) Well, obviously we're looking for a w*apon that was smuggled in. (Hodgins and Brennan make doubtful sounds) What were those noises?

BRENNAN: There is no way to smuggle an eight-hundred year old bronze w*apon into the Jeffersonian.

HODGINS: No, no. We have x-rays, guards, metal detectors . . .

BRENNAN: You come in with anything bigger than a watch, they search you.

BOOTH: You two are geniuses, how would you do it?

HODGINS: It's absolutely impossible.

BRENNAN: Unless you mail it.

HODGINS: Oh. Yeah, right, there's that.

BOOTH: What?!

BRENNAN: If you mail something to the Jeffersonian, it doesn't need to be cleared by customs or security.

BOOTH: Okay, you're saying that if I want to get a stolen artifact into the United States, all I have to do is mail it to the Jeffersonian.

BRENNAN: Technically yes, but, the fact is we check and report all items to the government.

BOOTH: Okay, who's we?

HODGINS: (closing his eyes and dropping his head) The authentications department.

BOOTH: Oh, okay, you mean a bunch of starving interns who work here during the summer.

BRENNAN: (To Hodgins) Interns keep detailed records of every item they authenticate. Access Kristen Reardon's log. (Hodgins and Brennan move to the computer)

HODGINS: I suppose Gormogon could've mailed himself to the Jeffersonian, stolen an I.D. and simply walked out.

BOOTH: This has got nothing to do with Goobagon.

BRENNAN: Gormogon!

BOOTH: Whatever. How many times do I have to say that?

HODGINS: I don't have the necessary clearance.

BRENNAN: Let me try. (Hodgins moves from the computer and Brennan begins to type. Red screen pops up stating, "ACCESS DENIED - Please check your password and try again or contact the network administrator") Neither do I!

HODGINS: (moving forward to the computer, pushing them aside) Excuse me.

BRENNAN: Wait, you have a password?

BOOTH: Yeah, Cam's. What she won't mind. (Hodgins chuckles, Brennan looks incredulous. Hodgins moves back to the computer)

HODGINS: Well, Kristen Reardon worked on a lot of sixteenth century Baroque wood carvings.

BOOTH: (taps Brennan on the shoulder) I know your password too. It's daffodil.

BRENNAN: I never told you that!

BOOTH: What? I got eyes. I mean you guys aren't exactly CIA material.

HODGINS: Daffodil?

BRENNAN: What? They're pretty.

HODGINS: It looks like Kristen might've worked on some Luristan bronzes.

BRENNAN: Any from the thirteenth century? (Hodgins pulls up a list, and pictures of artifacts)

HODGINS: Yeah, tools, utensils, sculptures . . , BOOTH: What's Luristan?

BRENNAN: Persia.

BOOTH: You mean Iran or Iraq. Since the w*r Iraqi museums have been looted and their pieces are being sold on the black market. This m*rder has nothing to do with the vault. Or a serial k*ller.

HODGINS: Kristen Reardon was a smuggler?

BOOTH: More than likely k*lled by a smuggler.

HODGINS: She goes to report something and the smuggler kills her. (Booth nods smugly)

BRENNAN: I'll have Zack check all these as possible m*rder w*apon. (to Booth) And I'm changing my password. (moves to the computer, using her hand to shield the screen.)

BOOTH: Daisy?

BRENNAN: How did you know?

BOOTH: It's your second favorite flower. (Hodgins smiles) I know you Bones. Try a planet. (walks away, Brennan nods and begins to type. Booth walks a few steps and then snaps and turns around) Jupiter! (Hodgins laughs and turns away)

(Interior - Day - Autopsy Room at the Jeffersonian. Cam is at the sink. Booth enters.)

CAM: Hey!

BOOTH: Hey.

CAM: I owe you.

BOOTH: No, you don't.

CAM: I do. It took the pressure off. I even reconnected with Felicia. (walking to her desk, Booth following)

BOOTH: She kissed me.

CAM: What?

BOOTH: I swear, I didn't see it coming, she just planted it on me.

CAM: Like a peck on the cheek or a full meal?

BOOTH: (thinking) Why does that even matter?

CAM: Full meal. I don't believe it.

BOOTH: What's the big deal? I mean, you and I aren't actually, you know, going out.

CAM: She thought she stole you away from me, that's why she was so nice. You!

BOOTH: What?

CAM: You kissed back.

BOOTH: No! No. No, there was no "kiss back." (Cam looks at Booth accusatorially) You know, my lips, they may have parted for a second . . . (Felicia enters)

FELICIA: Hi, ready for lunch?

BOOTH: Hi.

CAM: (to Booth) Don't say hello to her. (to Felicia) How could you make a move on my boyfriend?

FELICIA: (moving to stand next to Cam) He said things weren't so great between you guys.

CAM: Didn't think you should ask me first?

FELICIA: Sorry, didn't seem like he was all that into you!

BOOTH: Time out, let's get real here okay? You are actually fighting over something that does not even exist.

FELICIA: What?

BOOTH: We don't go out anymore. We broke up a long time ago.

FELICIA: And you brought him for Dad so he'd still think . . .

CAM: You know how dad is - I'd never hear the end of it. You saw how he lit up when he got that remote!

BOOTH: It can handle up to eight different devices . . .

CAM: We know, Booth.

FELICIA: Why didn't you tell me you guys split up?

CAM: You want him, take him. I don't care.

FELICIA: I don't want him.

BOOTH: You don't?

FELICIA: (To Cam) No, I was just trying to get back at you for being so perfect all the time.

CAM: So you admit it!

FELICIA: Like you're a saint. (to Booth) She used to go into my closet with all my dolls and say that they were having a party but I wasn't invited.

CAM: You were five, and they did not like you.

FELICIA: Typical, start a fight so we miss lunch.

CAM: Oh, you made reservations? I'm surprised. I thought we'd have to eat from a cart in the street!

BOOTH: Wow, you two can have lunch after all this?

FELICIA: Please, like you can ruin a meal. (Felicia laughs, Cam smiles.

BOOTH: Okay, that's it. (pointing at Felicia) I don't know who you think . . .

CAM: Don't raise your voice to her, Seeley. (Felicia looks at Booth, appalled) (to Felicia) Let's go, let him calm down.

BOOTH: What?

CAM: (Felicia and Cam leaving. To Booth) Wow.

FELICIA: Why did you guys break up? What did he do?

BOOTH: It wasn't me! I . . .

(Interior - Day - Zack's office at the Jeffersonian. Zack is sitting at the computer, Brennan behind him. A statue of an a horned animal is on the screen)

ZACK: This is the most likely m*rder w*apon.

BRENNAN: It's an antelope.

ZACK: Actually, it's an Oryx.

BRENNAN: That's a type of antelope.

ZACK: I was being precise. You used to appreciate that. (the computer calculates the angle from the table to the horn's position)

BRENNAN: Sixty-seven degrees.

ZACK: Exactly. Oryx on table, struggle, Kristen Reardon is impaled on the Oryx.

BRENNAN: (patting him on the shoulder) Good work, Zack! Let's swab the sculpture, see if there's any DNA evidence.

ZACK: It's not here.

(Interior - Day - Walkway above the main examination area at the Jeffersonian. Cam and Bancroft are walking towards the lounge.)

BANCROFT: What do you mean, it's not here anymore?

CAM: According to Jeffersonian records, the Oryx was mailed to Box 99, Poplar Street Post Office in Arlington.

BANCROFT: The Jeffersonian is being used to smuggle Iraqi artifacts? Has the FBI been informed about this?

CAM: Yes, Dr. Bancroft, Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan are trying to arrange to have the post office staked out by tomorrow.

BANCROFT: Good, good, that's (winks and gives her a thumbs up) that's good. (exits)

CAM: (dials her phone) It's Cam. (Exterior - Day - Booth and Brennan in Booth's SUV parked on the street across from the ) I told him. You were right, he wasn't happy when I said the FBI already knew.

BOOTH: Thanks, Cam. Now we'll see if he's a part of it or just another ass covering buracrate.

CAM: Good hunting. (clicks her phone closed)

BOOTH: Little game there, Bones - who shows up for the Iraqi Bambi?

BRENNAN: There are a number of possible candidates.

BOOTH: Come on, I mean, it's a stake out. Play with me. Speculate. My money's on Bancroft.

BRENNAN: The head of the Jeffersonian? Why?

BOOTH: He's a doughy.

BRENNAN: (scoffs) You think he's a m*rder just because you don't like him?

BOOTH: Bones, it's a game.

BRENNAN: Well, there's no way it's Bancroft, he has a doctorate.

BOOTH: Dr. Kevorkian has a doctorate. (A yellow cab pulls up in front of the post office, Klimkew gets out ) Oh. So does that guy.

BRENNAN: Dr. Klimkew.

(Interior - Day - Interrogation Room at FBI Headguarters. Klimkew is sitting at the table, where the Oryx statue sits. Booth and Brennan sit opposite each other at the table)

KLIMKEW: During a m*rder investigation, you uncovered my smuggling operation?

BOOTH: Yep.

KLIMKEW: Man that is bad, bad luck.

BRENNAN: (leaning forward) What about the m*rder, Evan?

KLIMKEW: Kristen Reardon and Kyle Aldrige? No, I'm afraid that their deaths are on your hands.

BOOTH: How do you figure?

KLIMKEW: Well, this silver skeleton Gormogon serial k*ller's obviously involved. (To Brennan) You brought him into our house. No, I can only take responsibility for smuggling this Oryx (puts his hand on the statue) into the country.

BOOTH: Get your hands off the m*rder w*apon. (Klimkew moves his hand, looking questioningly at Booth and Brennan)

BRENNAN: (to Klimkew) We know what happened.

KLIMKEW: (looking from Brennan to Booth) I was there. But it wasn't me who pushed Kristen onto that table, it- it was Aldrige.

BOOTH: Now, why would he do that?

KLIMKEW: Uh, love gone wrong, I don't know, but Aldrige said (Booth moves to stand behind Klimkew) that if I didn't help him dispose of the body he'd expose my smuggling deal and I would go to prison.

BOOTH: Well, I guess that's it then, huh Bones? Case closed. (claps his hand on Aldrige's shoulder)

BRENNAN: Right, well, except . . . somebody k*lled Kyle Aldrige.

KLIMKEW: No, he hanged himself. (Booth grabs his arm and pulls it up and back) Ow . . . (Booth pulls down his shift sleeve exposing red burns)

BOOTH: Rope burns. Look at that. We think you k*lled Kristen Reardon, probably by accident . . .

BRENNAN: We know you k*lled Kyle Adlrige.

BOOTH: Premeditated.

BRENNAN: And I'm confident we can prove it beyond reasonable doubt to a jury. (Booth slams down Klimkew's hand) It's over, Evan. (Booth slaps his shoulder as he walks back to his chair)

KLIMKEW: Do either of you know a good lawyer?

(Interior - Night - Booth's Office at FBI Headquarters. Booth and Brennan are sitting across from each other in recliners at a small table. Booth is pouring sh*ts into paper cups)

BOOTH: Okay, don't take it so hard.

BRENNAN: I'm not taking anything hard. (Booth raises his cup in a toast) What are we, Russian?

BOOTH: Nostrovia. Yeah. (they take the sh*ts, sit down the cups, and crush them) I'll tell you what else I know. What you're taking hard is, uh, the fact that it happened in your house.

BRENNAN: It's not my house!

BOOTH: Not where you sleep! Okay, you're favorite place, the house of reason, the Jeffersonian.

BRENNAN: No. It's not my favorite place.

BOOTH: Yes, it is.

BRENNAN: What, no it's not- how do you know?

BOOTH: Daffodil. Daisy. Jupiter. (pours another sh*t into two new cups) Okay, I'll tell you what else I know, (lifts his cup in a toast) you were hoping that it was gorgonzola. (they take the sh*ts)

BRENNAN: Gormogon.

BOOTH: Ah! So you admit it!

BRENNAN: Accidentally! Does- does that count?

BOOTH: Yes. Look, all the scientists and the squints and the eggheads, they wanted it to be a serial k*ller so it wouldn't be one of them.

BRENNAN: Them?

BOOTH: You.

BRENNAN: Me?

BOOTH: One of you. You were all offended that it was one of you.

BRENNAN: You know what? I am offended.

BOOTH: I just said that. (pours another sh*t)

BRENNAN: I'm offended! Because . . .

BOOTH: Because you were betrayed by one of your own.

BRENNAN: Yes. Are you going to betray me?

BOOTH: No. (they toast)

BRENNAN: Nonetheless, I shall be vigilant. (they take the sh*ts)

BOOTH: "Nonetheless"? (they laugh)

BRENNAN: I'm not gonna' have a headache tomorrow, am I?

BOOTH: Well, we're gonna' find out. Hodgins and Jack, they do their experiments. We do ours. (they toast) To Gorgonzola.

BRENNAN: Gormogon. (they take the sh*ts, sit the cups down and before Brennan can crush hers, it falls of the table)

BOOTH: You missed. (laughs)

-END-
{"type": "series", "show": "Bones", "episode": "03x06 - The Intern in the Incinerator"}