CSI: Crime Scene Investigation

The truck was headed to the landfill.

When it passed through the security gate,

the guard noticed a suspicious ooze leaking out of the back,

so he notified the driver.

The driver jumped out, checked it out and called us.

What is the code for suspicious ooze?

6-6-6.

Well, at least the primordial variety--

the stuff of creation, Heaven and Hell.

Yeah, I'll take "Hell" for $500, please, Alex.

- Is this, your, uh, "ooze"? - Yep.

Hey! Shut it down!

Shut it down!

Looks like blood.

Smells like blood.

Okay. Open it up.

Possible body parts.

Looks like it's been put through a cheese grater.

This is some kind of hardcore shredding, boys.

Hey.

"Cafe Perka."

Cappuccino machine.

I was thinking about buying one of these.

Piece of a steel-belted radial?

Bicycle bell.

Guess the rest of the bicycle's in there somewhere.

What do you make of that?

Credit card?

Looks like it used to be a credit card.

A chopped-up rubber tire,

a coffee maker,

and a cheese-grated body-- if that's what this is.

Not something you see every day.

Here's looking at you, kid.

Corrected by elderman resync by rocielvn

Well, that's one way to clear a paper jam.

Prototype failed.

It jammed before it made it to market.

The business made us destroy it.

You guys said something about body parts?

Yeah. We found some in a truck

headed for the landfill.

It was mixed in with a lot of shredded stuff,

much like what comes out of your machine.

Truck's manifest led us here.

Got to be some mistake.

Company sends us all kinds of material to shred.

Electronics, appliances, apparel,

prototypes, rejects, recalls.

Hey, somebody has to lose the Super Bowl, right?

All those hats and t-shirts--

"We're Number One!"

This is where they turn out to be number two.

Does that include bodies?

No. We don't shred people.

Maybe someone fell in.

Well, we've got cameras everywhere.

Not to mention OSHA.

Someone so much as gets a paper cut,

gotta shut down.

You're gonna have to shut it down right now, boss.

We need to take a look at it.

We want to talk to everybody who worked that night shift.

Plus we're going to need to see

what your "eyes" saw.

You guys got a warrant?

Hey, got one right here.

You can, uh, shred it when we're done.

Except for the big stuff,

most clients send their material in padlocked bins.

They fill them up at their offices,

arrange secure transport, we take care of the rest.

That's it; that's the whole graveyard shift.

Like I said, no one fell in.

Well, maybe they didn't have to.

Padlocked bins, secure transport...

if I was going to get rid of a body,

seems like a good way to go.

All this came from the one truck with the body parts?

Yeah. Looks like we're in for a long day.

Did you really sign up for this?

Yeah, as my recent brush with T-Rex confirms,

the exhilaration of field work

is the only thing that gets me out of my head.

Still got Wendy on your mind, huh?

Yeah.

Believe me, I get it.

Two ships passing-- takes a while for the fog to clear.

I know what you need, H.

- Good night out on the town. - Yeah.

When?

All right, guys, we got paper, plastic, metal,

yuck... let's call it, shall we?

I got "yuck."

Oh, Lady Catherine.

Always a delight.

Somebody's in a good mood.

Well, I enjoy a good puzzle now and again,

and this one is grade "A."

You seem in a good mood, yourself.

You have a... certain glow.

Hodges opened his big mouth.

Detective Vartann's a good man.

Can we, uh... get to the goo?

I, uh, sent representative samples to DNA.

We'll see what we get.

Obviously, the body's too mangled

to determine much.

Weight of the parts

suggests that we're looking at only one unfortunate soul.

I took a tissue sample.

Put your nose down the scope.

I'll give you a tour.

Tissue's autolyzed, with a lack of nuclear detail.

Presence of saprophytic bacteria started the decomp.

Our victim was DBS.

DBS?

Dead Before Shred.

Time of death's approximately 36 to 48 hours

before the indignity of this dice and slice.

C.O.D.? Well, a portion of the cranial bone

shows a hint of a beveled edge.

Are you thinking entry wound?

More than thinking. I also found this.

Ooh.

Bullet frag.

It stuck around.

Greg found bullet fragments in the grind from the shredder.

We'll run everything through ballistics, see what we find.

Everything all right?

Huh? Oh, yeah.

Uh, yeah, I'm fine.

You been swimming?

Oh, uh, shower.

We just went through a truckload

of garbage and dead body.

I, um... I still smell,

don't I?

You don't want an answer to that.

Found a credit card-- well, a piece of one.

Very similar to the one that you pulled out of the trash

last night, am I right?

Looks like it.

There were several in the shredder mix, and these were

more finely diced than the others,

and Hodges thought that it merited a closer look.

Is he, uh, running it through trace? Yeah.

You sure you're all right?

Fine.

Oh. You, uh...

dropped your bean.

DNA on our D.B. came back.

Confirms one source.

No hits in CODIS.

So far, all we have is an unidentified white male.

Well, we knew I.D. on this guy wasn't going to be easy.

He's in a thousand pieces.

Pieces may be all that we need

as long as they're the right ones.

I ran trace on the credit card shards

that G and I found in the shredder mix.

G?

They were bathed in high concentrations

of hydrochloric acid, potassium chloride,

and sodium chloride.

Stomach acid. Along with

magnesium, potassium, beta carotene,

zinc and

some essence

of Mercenaria mercenaria.

Spit it out, H.

Quahog clams.

Apparently, the shards were part

of a not-so-delightful Manhattan clam chowder.

So what you're saying is, our victim ate his credit cards?

Or someone made him eat them.

It's like straight out of an old Mob movie.

You can't pay up, so eat up.

Bullet in the head for dessert.

Well, we didn't find

enough pieces to reconstruct the name and number

as it appears on the card, but

we may not have to, because...

we have this.

The magnetic stripe.

Cardholder's name and number

is encoded repeatedly, along the length of the stripe.

Yeah, all we need is a section of it.

Our victim's last supper may tell us who he is.

Larry LaMotte?!

No way!

You know this guy?

Well, yeah, if it's the Larry LaMotte.

Haven't you've seen his online ads?

Mm-mm.

"How much would you pay

"for peace of mind?

Protect your identity with I.D.-Preserve."

He owns a credit protection service.

For a monthly fee,