Émission TV: Bones - 4x1
Oxford University, England In closing my lecture on interstitial lammellae remodeling, I'd like to address some issues that are not strictly confinedto forensic anthropology.
If it's all right with my host, Dr.
Wexler.
I should think that all but the most joyless wonks-- and yes, I do refer to you, Cyril Bibby-- would embrace a diversion from haversian systems.
My partner, FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth, gave his lecture at Scotland Yard last night.
Agent Booth, could you please stand up?
Hey, Booth!
Yeah, I'm here.
What's up?
Agent Booth is the intuitive humanist, while I am the logical empiricist, although recently I have seen how destructive pure logic can be.
My own assistant, the most brilliant young man I've ever met...
...ended up a sidekick to a annibalistic serial killer.
I-I haven't invited you to join me, Booth, so you could take your seat.
What I've learned from Agent Booth is that we scientists must arm ourselves with something other than pure logic.
A quality which deflects us from an irrational enamoration for the rational.
Exactly.
How old is that guy?
What, Ian?
He's a year younger than I am, and almost as brilliant.
What do you think of my speech?
Yeah, it got, you know, better toward the end.
You mean, after you interrupted me?
I'm sorry.
Look.
It wasn't that I was bored.
Mostly, it was just that I was tired, okay?
The boobies took me out for a beer last night. "
Bobbies."
They're called "bobbies."
I'm pretty sure that Sarah, Pauline and Jacqueline are, you know, boobies.
Dr.
Brennan!
Dr.
Brennan!
What a wonderful lecture.
Fantastic, sublime, great.
Thank you, Dr.
Wexler.
Who knew such a shapeless robe could be so evocative?
Of academia, I mean, of course.
Just one moment with my colleague, please, Agent Booth.
Over the last few days, I have been warned many times to watch out for you.
Warned?
That sounds dangerous.
Is it something along the lines of, "Oh, look out for Ian Wexler.
He's a young genius on the rise"?
How can you flirt with me while ignoring your phone?
Well, I am a man of perspective.
Besides, I find if one ignores the thing long enough, generally, it stops ringing.
And then later, at my leisure, it will tell me what it wanted.
Dr.
Ian Wexler.
Oh, don't leave.
This is nothing.
Murder?
What kind of murder?
Well, is it a boring one or is it a violent one?
Is your interest piqued?
Are you being serious?
I'm going to pass you over to a colleague of mine.
I'd simply like you to state the origin of this call.
Thank you.
Scotland Yard?
Homicide.
Cheers.
Well, would you like to tag along?
It is murder.
Can't promise anything, but it is possible a famous heiress is involved.
I'm keen as ketchup.
Mustard.
Keen as mustard.
Excellent effort at the colloquialism, though.
Very impressive.
Does your cowboy want to tag along?
Oh, please, don't call him that.
He'd find it insulting?
No.
He'd love it.
Stand back, please.
Inspector Kate Pritchard of Scotland Yard, I'd like you to meet...
Ah, Agent Booth!
Yes.
Hello.
I very much enjoyed your presentation last night.
He's very active.
Sound effects, visual aids, all sorts of props.
Although he complained at great length about he had to check Well, you know, without a gun, I'm practically naked.
Isn't that right, Bones?
Inspector Pritchard, meet Dr.
Brennan.
Charming.
She's exactly like me.
Charming, tenacious, salacious, sophomoric, euphoric, noble, ignoble, fatuous, horrid, morbid, torpid and tedious.
Flattery will get you absolutely nowhere, Kate.
So you found Portia Frampton?
Well, the way we usually work, Ian, is I drag the bodies out of the Thames, and you use your extraordinary capabilities to identify them.
Bones, they're like the English version of me and you.
But ???
might be her?
Well, this certainly is her car.
Portia Frampton, she's an American, as is her father.
Do you know him?
Not all Americans know each other, Kate.
There are quite a lot of them.
Roger Frampton: airlines,Internet ventures, luxury construction.
Full disclosure, Kate: I'm currently analyzing one of his construction sites.
Frampton wishes to build skyscrapers over what may prove to be a Bronze Age treasure trove or maybe just a rubbish tip.
Well, they aren't mutually exclusive.
Exactly.
This vehicle's number plate matches Miss Frampton's.
Obviously, this vehicle entered the Thames at some distance upstream before coming to ground here.
What do you think, Dr.
Brennan, female or transvestite?
Female.
Late teens, early 20s.
Penetrating trauma to the parietal bone.
Someone hit her on the head with a sharp object.
You have to do that as well, do you?
Translate for them?
Do you have to deal with that, too?
Is it murder?
Yes.
Yes.
If this is Portia Frampton, then her father will no doubt demand FBI involvement.
Why?
They're American.
Well, you won't have any real jurisdiction, you understand.
Well, not beyond what I grant you out of courtesy.
Well, that whole "no jurisdiction" thing-- that really doesn't fly in the FBI.
Just tell him he can have a gun.
But he can't.
Well, as they say in America, "Hasta la vista, baby."
Agent Booth, I will, I will do my utmost to get you a gun.
In that case-- excuse me-- Bones and I are the best crime-solving team in America.
Well, we're in England.
Let's all just try and pull together, shall we?
One nice little happy transnational unit of inquiry.
Well, we should have these remains sent back to the Jeffersonian and parts of vehicle that may contain trace evidence.
How do you feel about that, Dr.
Wexler?
Oh, I'm looking forward to completely surrendering myself to Dr.
Brennan.
You heard her: Back to the Jeffersonian, all of it.
Put it in the overhead.
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Not just evidence, but actual human remains.
The Brits used dental records-- no jokes, please-- to identify the daughter of a wealthy ex-pat.
Typical American billionaire.
He thinks we can do it better.
Because we can do it better.
X rays for you, Clark.
Thank you.
I'll take the body.
See if there's any soft tissue worth looking at.
And these crime scene photos are mine.
Check it out.
British slime.
So much more proper than American slime.
Some kind of paper.
I'll see if there's anything on it.
Okay, as usual, I'll need constant progress reports.
Angela.
Oh, my...
Oh, my God.
Grayson...
Angela.
That's the last bit of sugar you're ever gonna get from me.
I want my divorce.
Portia Frampton, only daughter of Roger Frampton, 47, formerly of Ringwood, New Jersey; and Sarah Frampton, nee Burroughs, deceased 1994 of Cheltenham, England.
God, you wouldn't believe what my hotel gave me It was like this brown goo, and some kind of meat.
I think it was a sausage about the size of my finger.
I had an entire buffet.
Well, you're staying at the Duke of something, all right?
I'm at the Beefeater Hotel Motel.
You ate in a beefeater.
That's brave.
Yeah, brave is right.
It's the weakest coffee I've ever had.
Booth, that's tea.
Two weeks ago, Miss Frampton was last seen the morning after her 21st birthday party.
It's quite a coincidence that Dr.
Wexler is working for the victim's father.
Well, not working for him, actually.
Working for the city.
But I shall check my diary to see if I killed her.
Portia's party broke up around 2:00 a.m.
and she was reported missing the following afternoon.
Mm, the question is why?
She was probably reported missing because nobody could find her.
Ian...
I suspect the reason why nobody could find her was because Portia was in a car on the bottom Just a theory, mind you.
Right.
It's a great theory.
Can you hold onto that for one second?
Thanks.
Me and Dr.
Brennan will go talk to the family.
Together?
That's what we do.
That's what we do.
You and a inspector.
That's extraordinary.
Sweet.
Portia Frampton was struck from behind.
Trauma to the zygomata suggests that she fell to the ground and then was struck again at least two more times.
Weapon?
The Brits weren't able to recover all the skull fragments so it's nearly impossible to tell.
Excuse me.
I'd like you to meet my husband.
My soon-to-be ex-husband.
We must talk.
This is Birimbau?
I prefer my real name: Grayson Barasa.
Very nice to meet you all.
Listen, uh, I realize that Grayson is very lovely.
He certainly is.
Thank you.
He's a big dude.
But until Grayson hands over signed divorce papers, I don't really need Hodgins seeing everybody gawking at him like he's some kind of god.
Yeah, but he is some kind of god.
The best kind.
Cam...
a little help here.
Yeah.
Oh, my God.
Poor Hodgins.
Wow.
Look at that guy.
He's just...
Look at him!
I'm sorry.
Hodgins?
Hey, Angie.
This is Grayson Barasa...
Birimbau.
Please tell me you are here to sign the divorce papers.
I can't do that.
I am still in love with Angela.
Of course you are.
I understand, but Angela is in love with me.
I told you, Grayson.
Angela, do you remember the night we met?
Vaguely.
Ah, the waves were phosphorescent, like the world was upside down and we were swimming naked through the Milky Way.
Bioluminescent phytoplankton.
Nothing mystic.
We talked about how the universe speaks to us.
And when our lips met...
I apologize.
Hm?
No worries.
Our lips meet all the time.
Bells.
What?
No, Hodgins.
Literally, bells started ringing.
It was nothing cosmic.
Every bell on the island rang out.
It was during the Shark Festival of Bells.
What did you expect to happen?
A 21-gun salute?
so-so-so...
what about the divorce papers?
You need time to talk.
Yuck it up, laughing boy.
Wait until one of your ex-girlfriends comes to visit.
Yeah.
Back to work.
Yeah.
One of the reasons we moved away from the States was to get away Now look what happened.
All right, Mr.
Frampton, look, we're very sorry for the loss Was it a robbery?
We don't know yet.
I'm gonna need a list of your enemies.
What enemies?
Well, you're a very aggressive American businessman living here in England; you must have enemies.
My daughter was a very sweet, innocentgirl.
Not always...
Mr.
Frampton.
What the hell are you asking for anyway?
So you can put that picture away, Dr.
Brennan.
Miss Miller, how close were you to the stepdaughter?
Heather and I are not married yet.
Portia was like a younger sister to me.
We talked about everything: clothes, school, Harry...
Who's-who's Harry?
Lord Henry Albert Bonham.
Right.
Is that some kind of a crusty old politician or something?
Lord Bonham is a very un-crusty young man, heir to the Duke of Innesford.
Right.
Harry, Henry, Bonham, whatever.
I read the tabloids.
There was no mention of Portia dating any kind of royalty.
The duke wanted it kept a secret.
The duke would be the lord's father.
I got it, Bones.
I understand, okay?
I'm just trying to help.
I...
All right, so the duke says something, and all of a sudden, magically, it happens.
Welcome to England.
A murderer is a murderer, no matter how close he is to the throne.
Please, help me find out who did this Why did you rent this?
I didn't rent this, okay?
They screwed up at the rent-a-car place.
I ordered an Aston-- you know, James Bond?-- but they gave me...
Yeah, they gave you an Austin.
It could happen to anyone.
Um...
we drive on the left here, as you may recall.
Driving here requires a different skill set-- I could take the wheel, if you like -- I'm an excellent driver.
Thank you, Rain Man.
No, I'm fine.
Tell you what, back home, we'd drag the whole Royal Family into interrogation, separately, let 'em stew, catch 'em in a lie.
We could do that, if you like, but it'll give them time to close up.
Do stay to the left here, please.
Close up?
Tighten ranks.
Nothing is as impenetrable as the aristocracy freezing out hoi polloi I must say, I'm rather looking forward to two Americans Oh, the light is red.
It's okay.
I'm turning right.
No, no, turning right on a red here is the equivalent of turning left on a red at home.
That makes no sense.
No, the point is it's against the law to turn on a red!
Brake!
Brake!
Whoa!
Brake!
Get out of the way, wanker!
Okay, I think we should wait here until the traffic thins out.
God, I hate London!
I hate England!
I'm glad we had a revolution!
Brennan.
And the weather-- it changes, it's cloudy...
The fatty acid composition of the victim's cervical fluid caught my attention, so I ran some more tests.
Turns out Portia Frampton was pregnant.
Pregnant?
How far along?
And coffee!
What is so hard about making a cup of black coffee...
About two months.
Okay.
Thanks, Kim.
God...
Okay, I feel much better.
What'd I miss?
Lord Henry Bonham, heir to the Duke of Innesford, knocked up the victim.
Right.
The Royals hate bastards.
Only the ones that don't make king.
Hang on, girls.
Let me get out nice castle castle ???
This...
is more properly called a "palace."
Bones, a little help getting out, Bones?
Geez, oh...
God.
Geez.
Heads up.
Getting out of this thing is like being born.
Ooh.
That the duke?
It's his gentleman's gentleman.
It's a butler.
How you doing there, sport?
Right.
FBI.
You might as well put this one away; it's worthless.
And yet here I am.
You mind waiting outside?
Why?
It's because Agent Booth not only wants he wants them upside down.
He'll annoy them, you mean.
Let's say the duke and duchess won't be used to your approach.
Word of advice: when they start commenting on you to each other, you've got them on the run.
Right.
I noticed in the crime scene photos that the backseats of which started me thinking that maybe the victim was transporting something, So Brennan had strips of material sent from the vehicle, ST-90 transmission oil, made with poly-alpha-olefin, leaded, acidic H2O residue, and plenty of polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons.
Don't make her ask.
Thank you, Angela.
A motorcycle was transported in the back of the SUV.
More likely a scooter, given the size.
The killer kills, loads the body and his scooter.
Or moped.
Drives to the Thames...
Dumps the car, body and all, in the river, and rides his scooter home.
Through the teeming streets of London.
So you're an honest- to-God real butler?
My family has served His Grace's family for eight generations.
Yeah, well, a real butler would offer to take my hat.
A real gentleman would be wearing a hat.
Whoa, look at this guy.
Uh, yes, sir.
It dates to...
please don't touch that, Agent Booth.
Late 1490s or early 1500s.
German design?
His Grace's ancestors fought for Henry VIII in France.
Oh, geez, look at the size of this.
That's one large cup-- probably to scare the sissy French.
Actually, Henry VIII started the trend of large codpieces because he had syphilis so his penis was extremely sensitive to anything His Grace favors the "intimidate the enemy" version, should the topic arise.
His Grace, Her Ladyship, and Lord Henry will meet you Two weeks and I'd heard nothing from Portia.
I knew it'd turn out to be something terrible.
You kept your relationship with Portia Frampton a secret.
It didn't mean I didn't love her.
Well, where we come from, that's exactly what it means.
in this American has the right to pose these questions?
Tell you what, you call Scotland Yard and the answer is always So, Portia ever come to visit this, uh, palace?
This house?
No.
Why?
I mean, you were in love with her.
Right, lord?
Well, it's my understanding that the class system though very much relaxed since the Second World War, still exists at the highest levels of society.
That's you, right?
One prefers not to make such an assertion.
How long did yo and Portia Frampton carry on a sexual relationship?
Did I ever say I was sleeping with her?
Of course you had sex with her, Harry, and I'm sure she rather enjoyed it.
You're a well-formed, athletic boy.
Did you offer refreshments?
I had no intention of encouraging them to stay longer, Mother.
Tea, please.
Harry kept his relationship with the Frampton girl secret because her father is a rapacious crook who uses intimidation and bribery to get what he wants.
So...
it had nothing to do with this?
They brought that wretched rag into the house.
I was there.
It was the afternoon before Portia's birthday party.
So you saw the photographer?
Of course not.
I'd have thrashed him.
The lord was going to go all medieval.
Portia's party was lovely.
She left before I awoke the next morning.
That's the last time I saw her.
But you did hear from her.
Right, because, uh, cell phone records indicate that you talked that morning.
It was a very personal conversation.
Did you discuss her pregnancy?
I got it.
I'll tell you what: there was an argument.
Portia wanted to keep the baby; you didn't.
I-I assure you I had absolutely no idea that...
Could he possibly be suggesting that pregnancy is a motive for murder?
Nonsense.
Arrangements would have been made.
Right, and you're positive that you're the father?
Harry.
Look at that.
I'm being intimidated by royalty.
If you must know, Portia broke up with me.
She said there was to be no discussion.
Ah!
There you go: motive for murder, no matter what country we're in, hmm?
What is this?
It's Assam black tea-- very strong.
Call it the upper class version of a cuppa joe.
Cheers.
Hey, I've been looking at those tabloid photos of the victim.
Now, in a telephoto shot, most of the frame is blurry.
Only the main subject is in focus.
What is this place A dungeon?
You see here?
These pixels loo like they've been altered to appear fuzzy.
So it wasn't really a telephoto lens?
You light it with torches, right?
It was a telephoto lens, but it's been doctored to look as though When ???
Well, why would anyone do that?
You see that white sliver?
You mean the white blob?
Yeah, it's a reflection of light, almost as though the And...
in Portia's eyes, do you see that?
No.
No.
It's a reflection of a house.
Do you see where I'm going?
No.
No.
Someone took the picture inside the house.
Right.
With an 80-millimeter lens.
Sweetie...my ex-husband is here with the divorce papers, so I'll fill you in when you get back.
I love the mix of personal and professional you people seem to manage.
Harry could have taken the photograph.
Yes, that's certainly a possibility, but Harry had no motive to take the photo.
We're most likely searching for a disgruntled servant I apologize for eating without you, but, apparently, to hold the table, you have to order.
Yeah.
I'm not here for food.
I'm here to get you to sign the divorce papers.
In my place, would you do that?
I'm not in your place.
I've been searching for Angela for five years.
I know.
I know.
Our private investigator told us everything.
You built Angela a home with your bare hands while simultaneously smuggling medicine to children in Cuba and supporting an orphanage.
You're a saint.
I get it.
If you believe that to be true, then you should want I do.
And guess what.
It's me.
Why are you better than me?
Obviously, I'm not.
But I do love her more than you.
Oh, you cannot possibly know that.
And yet, I do.
We are at an impasse.
You have no sense of dignity.
Yeah.
I'd give up my life for Angela, so what's a little dignity?
She kissed me, you know.
On the cheek or...?
What's going on?
Oh, man.
He says you kissed him.
I did.
Whoa.
It was a good-bye kiss.
There's nothing you can do.
You must accept...
Hodgins!
Here.
Can you take this, please?
Nice, Grayson.
Angela...
We've been working on identifying the photographer Well, surely, identifying her murderer is more important.
These are paparazzi.
They follow people.
So maybe he saw something.
I don't know, maybe the actual killer.
The photo was taken from a bedroom in Portia's home.
You're suggesting the help let a paparazzo into the house.
Actually, the hel told Inspector Pritchard that you were Look.
Maybe you want to tell us why you did it Roger and I have set five wedding dates over the years.
And, each time, Portia found a way to make him postpone.
She had her father wrapped around her little finger.
So you killed her?
Don't be ridiculous.
I...
I merely wanted Roger to regard Portia as a sexually mature adult with her own agenda instead of as an innocent child.
Sorry I'm late.
Court went rather longer than expected.
Heather, I trust you've said nothing.
Too late.
Too late why?
Your girlfriend sent the naked picture of your daughter to the tabloids so you'd stop thinking that she was perfect, and finally get married.
What Americans lack in subtlety, they make up with clarity.
Roger, I'm so sorry.
Why the hell would you do that?
Please believe me.
I would never do anything I simply made a terrible mistake.
Roger!
Oh, Roger!
I trust this interview is over.
Actually, I just have one more question.
Who the hell would want to wear this?
It's so nice to see you relaxing, enjoying some good Cheers.
Cheers.
Tell you what.
I'd like to see that open.
Really?
Why?
Luck.
Well, you'd have to be ridiculously lucky to see something like that,wouldn't you?
That's my point.
Well, you did get a little lucky today.
Yeah.
That's a Walther PPK.
It's a James Bond gun.
Booth-- Seeley Booth.
No, that's terrible.
Thanks, Pritch.
But, please, um, just remember, though, that if you do use it, I'm the one they'll hang.
Hey, I'm a good shot.
Oh.
Uh-oh, it's the American squints.
You'll love these people.
Booth-- Seeley Booth.
Hey, uh, the paper you sent me turns out to be a letter to Portia Frampton from her mother.
A keepsake from her childhood, perhaps?
No, it's dated this year.
What does the letter say?
Uh, the entire body of the letter is indecipherable.
The date and the salutation and the signature are clear, though.
Thanks, Ange.
So, Portia Frampton's mother is still alive?
Visible on the L2 is an area of radiolucency.
Can't see a damn thing.
Give us a moment, Clark.
We found a few more bone fragments today, Dr.
Wexler.
Good.
How old?
No more than 100 years.
To prevent Frampton from building his beloved skyscrapers we need to find something from the Bronze Age or older.
There is evidence of reabsorption of the surrounding bone.
Ah, here, yes, I see.
Very interesting.
Cyril, you're being impertinent.
Please stop speaking.
Well, could the anomalybe a hemangioblastoma?
Okay, off you go.
And don't come back until you find at least one Have Cam do a histology, Clark.
Will do, Dr.
Brennan.
So...
what now?
Well, I thought quick drink, back to yours for some sex, and then out for a late supper.
I'm inclined to accept.
I'm ever so pleased.
But Booth says I shouldn't trust you.
And why is that?
Well, he says you like to rack them up.
Rack them up?
How vulgar.
Booth is very good at reading people.
Hmm.
Well, in that case, how about we start with the supper, and then let the chips fall where they may?
That would be an acceptable compromise.
I checked out the skull fragments for microscopic traces.
How shiny and pretty-- what is it?
Mother-of-pearl.
Have you talked to Angela today?
Yes...
are you saying our victim was attacked by an abalone?
How mad is she?
Mad, mad, mad.
I thought women secretly liked it when we fought over them. "
Women" is an unacceptable generalization.
Well, you should look over your other shoulder.
Bones, I've been driving since I was 12, okay?
Would it make you less agitated if I told you that I didn't sleep with I'm not agitated, okay?
I'm agitated because of driving this little car, Look, Dr.
Wexler is just...
I'm not agitated because of you and Dr.
Wexler.
Wexler's just another guy looking for a one-night stand.
That's it...
whoa.
So?
So, he doesn't take it seriously.
Seriously?
What do you mean?
You never laugh during sex?
Because I do.
Whoa, do you see that lorry?
I see that lorry.
It's a truck, okay?
We're an American, and that is a truck.
I laugh during sex.
It's...
just...
it's not that kind of serious.
Well, I think Dr.
Wexler is serious about having sex with me.
Very interested.
Okay, news bulletin for you.
Bones, there's not a guy in this country who wouldn't have sex with you.
Probably half the gay men...
whoa, easy.
Are you being nice about me or awful about Wexler is not special; you are.
Brennan.
Am I interrupting anything?
No, I...
I'm just helping Booth drive.
Ooh, Booth shouldn't be behind the wheel.
He isn't adaptable.
I'm Mr.
Adaptable, okay?
And the mirror is the size of a thumbnail.
Well, what do you expect when you rent a car the size of your thumb?
I don't think there's enough fetal tissue to get a DNA reading, but...
Cam, can we just be quiet until we get into the flow of traffic here?
You think I'm special?
Of course I think that you're special, yes.
Thank you.
I will take your romantic advice under advisement.
Now you're too far to the left.
You're gonna hit the curb!
We're good.
Yeah, unless we get a flat tire.
No, we're good.
If I could speak again, I had better luck with the tumor.
Our victim suffered from Von-Hippel Lindau disease.
We got a flat tire.
How did that happen?
Uh, it...
there wasn't any evidence of VHL in either the mother's medical records or the autopsy report.
But it's hereditary, so her father must have it.
Roger Frampton worked for the NHL?
He...
he may have VHL disease.
What if he doesn't have it?
Then Roger Frampton is not Portia Frampton's biological father.
Oh, God.
Great.
That's just great.
I ???
My wife is not alive.
Your daughter was carrying a letter from her mother It was dated Portia's 21st birthday.
That's impossible.
Tell your lab boys they got it wrong.
Roger, the lab is, in fact, correct.
Portia was indeed carrying a letter from Sarah, dated her 21st birthday.
Portia and I met at a caf?
in Knightsbridge, the day after her party.
I gave her the letter personally.
I think you'll find Sarah knew she was dying and entrusted Mr.
Curry with letters, which he delivered on Portia's important birthdays.
How do you know?
Well, it's exactly what I'd have done if I were dying and leaving behind a young daughter.
That's all very touching and all, but it still makes Wig-wearing Willy here the last person that saw Portia alive.
For God's sake, now I'm a suspect?
You should've told me, William.
You're not the only person who engages me for my discretion, Roger.
What did the letter say?
I'm sure I couldn't possibly tell you.
Uh, Mr.
Frampton, how is your health?
What the hell has that got to do with anything?
Any nerve pain, dizziness, headaches?
No, I'm healthy as an ox.
Are you aware that Portia is not your biological daughter?
Perhaps I should conduct the rest of this interview.
Angela...
Here we go.
Angela, men are idiots.
Seriously.
Just to be clear, are you a man or a boy for the purposes of this conversation?
When I was ten, the kid next door had a turtle party wagon.
It's an accessory for the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figures.
It's a toy.
No?
Anyway, I loved that party wagon.
I wanted that party wagon.
So I climbed the tree outside his bedroom window.
But the tree had a fungus and his dad was too cheap to hire an arborist.
So unbeknownst to me, some of the branches were dead.
Lucky for you, I enjoy a convoluted story with my hot beverage.
I'm in the hospital-- broken arm, concussion...
and the kid with the party wagon comes in.
I confess everything.
You know what he says?
I would've given it to you.
He had a little gay crush on you.
He did?
Oh, man, that explains a lot.
But I'm guessing that you have a different point to the story, like maybe...
I'm the party wagon.
No, you're the gay neighbor boy.
Your love is the party wagon.
Grayson is the tree.
I'm Hodgins.
Think about it.
Which brings us back to the point that all men are idiots.
See how I worked that?
It's because I'm so good.
The treads in the victim's tires were mostly full of river silt.
But...
I did find a few more materials.
Crushed scleractinian coral.
Possibly from Australia.
She was killed in Australia?
It's used as a surface for private roadways in England.
How does that help us?
Well, it's been illegal to harvest this stuff for years, so the roadway in question is fairly old.
And even when this stuff was available, it was incredibly expensive.
And the organic material?
Deciduous pinnate leaflets, medium pink petals.
It's a rosa damascena.
An antique rose bush.
Hey, Hodgins...
Yeah.
Hey.
Hi, Angela.
Fine, I'll just pass this along to Booth and Dr.
Brennan You guys go ahead and...
Security cameras, people.
The building's filled with security cameras.
Can't have you punching my ex-husbands.
Deal.
So long as you don't kiss your ex-husbands On the lips.
Deal.
Look, it's simple.
My heart isn't yours to claim.
It's mine to give away.
I get that.
I mean what you're saying, not your heart.
Well, idiot...
you do get my heart.
Because you're giving it to me?
At last.
A glimmer of understanding.
Wow, that is so...
flaky and New Age and...
Yeah....wonderful.
Okay!
Okay!
I get it.
The universe speaks.
I hear.
Guy said he was going to fix the flat tire.
What's it doing up on the truck?
Crushed coral and rose petals.
Hodgins found coral and roses in Portia Frampton's tires.
Who takes a car with a flat tire and puts it up on a truck, all right?
You fix it.
That's what you do.
If there was a spare tire, I'd have fixed it.
Probably you cracked an axle or something.
Thanks, Cam.
That was very useful.
All right, great, now I got to call Agent Pritchard and I'm gonna have to ask her for a ride.
You know, England is not good for my personal dignity, all because of a f...
flat tire.
Wait.
Whoa, whoa, Bones, don't smell that.
You don't know where that's been.
Yes, I do.
This is crushed coral and it...
smells like roses.
Where did we pick up crushed coral?
The private road and driveway at the Bonham Estate.
Portia Frampton drove to the Bonham Estate just before she died.
And the royals said she never came to the house.
He ???
You honestly believe the Duke of Innesford is Portia Frampton's Both he and his mother show symptoms of VHL disease.
Well, we're standing on coral; those are rose bushes, and that is a scooter that could fit very nicely into the back of an SUV.
That's great.
Okay, what's taking our backup so long?
I didn't request backup.
Well, great.
In that case...
I want a gun.
I'm a very good shot and I've killed before.
It didn't bother me as much as I thought.
It bothered you a little.
Yes, but not as much as I thought.
If there's gonna be gunplay, I think I'll wait in the car.
Nonsense, Ian, there won't be any gunplay.
Why not?
We won't need guns because we have the letter from Portia's mother.
We don't know what it says.
Ah, but they don't know that.
Good one, Pritch.
What'd you just call her? "
Pritch," Ian.
He called me, "Pritch."
Short for "Pritchard."
Will you please put that weapon away.
Fine.
It just feels wrong.
I have a letter addressed to Portia from her mother.
Portia's mother died 14 years ago.
She wrote it on her deathbed.
If it's all right with my host, Dr.
Wexler.
I should think that all but the most joyless wonks-- and yes, I do refer to you, Cyril Bibby-- would embrace a diversion from haversian systems.
My partner, FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth, gave his lecture at Scotland Yard last night.
Agent Booth, could you please stand up?
Hey, Booth!
Yeah, I'm here.
What's up?
Agent Booth is the intuitive humanist, while I am the logical empiricist, although recently I have seen how destructive pure logic can be.
My own assistant, the most brilliant young man I've ever met...
...ended up a sidekick to a annibalistic serial killer.
I-I haven't invited you to join me, Booth, so you could take your seat.
What I've learned from Agent Booth is that we scientists must arm ourselves with something other than pure logic.
A quality which deflects us from an irrational enamoration for the rational.
Exactly.
How old is that guy?
What, Ian?
He's a year younger than I am, and almost as brilliant.
What do you think of my speech?
Yeah, it got, you know, better toward the end.
You mean, after you interrupted me?
I'm sorry.
Look.
It wasn't that I was bored.
Mostly, it was just that I was tired, okay?
The boobies took me out for a beer last night. "
Bobbies."
They're called "bobbies."
I'm pretty sure that Sarah, Pauline and Jacqueline are, you know, boobies.
Dr.
Brennan!
Dr.
Brennan!
What a wonderful lecture.
Fantastic, sublime, great.
Thank you, Dr.
Wexler.
Who knew such a shapeless robe could be so evocative?
Of academia, I mean, of course.
Just one moment with my colleague, please, Agent Booth.
Over the last few days, I have been warned many times to watch out for you.
Warned?
That sounds dangerous.
Is it something along the lines of, "Oh, look out for Ian Wexler.
He's a young genius on the rise"?
How can you flirt with me while ignoring your phone?
Well, I am a man of perspective.
Besides, I find if one ignores the thing long enough, generally, it stops ringing.
And then later, at my leisure, it will tell me what it wanted.
Dr.
Ian Wexler.
Oh, don't leave.
This is nothing.
Murder?
What kind of murder?
Well, is it a boring one or is it a violent one?
Is your interest piqued?
Are you being serious?
I'm going to pass you over to a colleague of mine.
I'd simply like you to state the origin of this call.
Thank you.
Scotland Yard?
Homicide.
Cheers.
Well, would you like to tag along?
It is murder.
Can't promise anything, but it is possible a famous heiress is involved.
I'm keen as ketchup.
Mustard.
Keen as mustard.
Excellent effort at the colloquialism, though.
Very impressive.
Does your cowboy want to tag along?
Oh, please, don't call him that.
He'd find it insulting?
No.
He'd love it.
Stand back, please.
Inspector Kate Pritchard of Scotland Yard, I'd like you to meet...
Ah, Agent Booth!
Yes.
Hello.
I very much enjoyed your presentation last night.
He's very active.
Sound effects, visual aids, all sorts of props.
Although he complained at great length about he had to check Well, you know, without a gun, I'm practically naked.
Isn't that right, Bones?
Inspector Pritchard, meet Dr.
Brennan.
Charming.
She's exactly like me.
Charming, tenacious, salacious, sophomoric, euphoric, noble, ignoble, fatuous, horrid, morbid, torpid and tedious.
Flattery will get you absolutely nowhere, Kate.
So you found Portia Frampton?
Well, the way we usually work, Ian, is I drag the bodies out of the Thames, and you use your extraordinary capabilities to identify them.
Bones, they're like the English version of me and you.
But ???
might be her?
Well, this certainly is her car.
Portia Frampton, she's an American, as is her father.
Do you know him?
Not all Americans know each other, Kate.
There are quite a lot of them.
Roger Frampton: airlines,Internet ventures, luxury construction.
Full disclosure, Kate: I'm currently analyzing one of his construction sites.
Frampton wishes to build skyscrapers over what may prove to be a Bronze Age treasure trove or maybe just a rubbish tip.
Well, they aren't mutually exclusive.
Exactly.
This vehicle's number plate matches Miss Frampton's.
Obviously, this vehicle entered the Thames at some distance upstream before coming to ground here.
What do you think, Dr.
Brennan, female or transvestite?
Female.
Late teens, early 20s.
Penetrating trauma to the parietal bone.
Someone hit her on the head with a sharp object.
You have to do that as well, do you?
Translate for them?
Do you have to deal with that, too?
Is it murder?
Yes.
Yes.
If this is Portia Frampton, then her father will no doubt demand FBI involvement.
Why?
They're American.
Well, you won't have any real jurisdiction, you understand.
Well, not beyond what I grant you out of courtesy.
Well, that whole "no jurisdiction" thing-- that really doesn't fly in the FBI.
Just tell him he can have a gun.
But he can't.
Well, as they say in America, "Hasta la vista, baby."
Agent Booth, I will, I will do my utmost to get you a gun.
In that case-- excuse me-- Bones and I are the best crime-solving team in America.
Well, we're in England.
Let's all just try and pull together, shall we?
One nice little happy transnational unit of inquiry.
Well, we should have these remains sent back to the Jeffersonian and parts of vehicle that may contain trace evidence.
How do you feel about that, Dr.
Wexler?
Oh, I'm looking forward to completely surrendering myself to Dr.
Brennan.
You heard her: Back to the Jeffersonian, all of it.
Put it in the overhead.
-==��������԰�������==- ����Ļ����ѧϰ�������Ͻ�������ҵ��; -=��������Ļ��=- ���룺 У�ԣ� ʱ���᣺southwing08 & ���� -==http://www.ragbear.com==- bones ��?����1�� Brennan sent all this evidence from England?
Not just evidence, but actual human remains.
The Brits used dental records-- no jokes, please-- to identify the daughter of a wealthy ex-pat.
Typical American billionaire.
He thinks we can do it better.
Because we can do it better.
X rays for you, Clark.
Thank you.
I'll take the body.
See if there's any soft tissue worth looking at.
And these crime scene photos are mine.
Check it out.
British slime.
So much more proper than American slime.
Some kind of paper.
I'll see if there's anything on it.
Okay, as usual, I'll need constant progress reports.
Angela.
Oh, my...
Oh, my God.
Grayson...
Angela.
That's the last bit of sugar you're ever gonna get from me.
I want my divorce.
Portia Frampton, only daughter of Roger Frampton, 47, formerly of Ringwood, New Jersey; and Sarah Frampton, nee Burroughs, deceased 1994 of Cheltenham, England.
God, you wouldn't believe what my hotel gave me It was like this brown goo, and some kind of meat.
I think it was a sausage about the size of my finger.
I had an entire buffet.
Well, you're staying at the Duke of something, all right?
I'm at the Beefeater Hotel Motel.
You ate in a beefeater.
That's brave.
Yeah, brave is right.
It's the weakest coffee I've ever had.
Booth, that's tea.
Two weeks ago, Miss Frampton was last seen the morning after her 21st birthday party.
It's quite a coincidence that Dr.
Wexler is working for the victim's father.
Well, not working for him, actually.
Working for the city.
But I shall check my diary to see if I killed her.
Portia's party broke up around 2:00 a.m.
and she was reported missing the following afternoon.
Mm, the question is why?
She was probably reported missing because nobody could find her.
Ian...
I suspect the reason why nobody could find her was because Portia was in a car on the bottom Just a theory, mind you.
Right.
It's a great theory.
Can you hold onto that for one second?
Thanks.
Me and Dr.
Brennan will go talk to the family.
Together?
That's what we do.
That's what we do.
You and a inspector.
That's extraordinary.
Sweet.
Portia Frampton was struck from behind.
Trauma to the zygomata suggests that she fell to the ground and then was struck again at least two more times.
Weapon?
The Brits weren't able to recover all the skull fragments so it's nearly impossible to tell.
Excuse me.
I'd like you to meet my husband.
My soon-to-be ex-husband.
We must talk.
This is Birimbau?
I prefer my real name: Grayson Barasa.
Very nice to meet you all.
Listen, uh, I realize that Grayson is very lovely.
He certainly is.
Thank you.
He's a big dude.
But until Grayson hands over signed divorce papers, I don't really need Hodgins seeing everybody gawking at him like he's some kind of god.
Yeah, but he is some kind of god.
The best kind.
Cam...
a little help here.
Yeah.
Oh, my God.
Poor Hodgins.
Wow.
Look at that guy.
He's just...
Look at him!
I'm sorry.
Hodgins?
Hey, Angie.
This is Grayson Barasa...
Birimbau.
Please tell me you are here to sign the divorce papers.
I can't do that.
I am still in love with Angela.
Of course you are.
I understand, but Angela is in love with me.
I told you, Grayson.
Angela, do you remember the night we met?
Vaguely.
Ah, the waves were phosphorescent, like the world was upside down and we were swimming naked through the Milky Way.
Bioluminescent phytoplankton.
Nothing mystic.
We talked about how the universe speaks to us.
And when our lips met...
I apologize.
Hm?
No worries.
Our lips meet all the time.
Bells.
What?
No, Hodgins.
Literally, bells started ringing.
It was nothing cosmic.
Every bell on the island rang out.
It was during the Shark Festival of Bells.
What did you expect to happen?
A 21-gun salute?
so-so-so...
what about the divorce papers?
You need time to talk.
Yuck it up, laughing boy.
Wait until one of your ex-girlfriends comes to visit.
Yeah.
Back to work.
Yeah.
One of the reasons we moved away from the States was to get away Now look what happened.
All right, Mr.
Frampton, look, we're very sorry for the loss Was it a robbery?
We don't know yet.
I'm gonna need a list of your enemies.
What enemies?
Well, you're a very aggressive American businessman living here in England; you must have enemies.
My daughter was a very sweet, innocentgirl.
Not always...
Mr.
Frampton.
What the hell are you asking for anyway?
So you can put that picture away, Dr.
Brennan.
Miss Miller, how close were you to the stepdaughter?
Heather and I are not married yet.
Portia was like a younger sister to me.
We talked about everything: clothes, school, Harry...
Who's-who's Harry?
Lord Henry Albert Bonham.
Right.
Is that some kind of a crusty old politician or something?
Lord Bonham is a very un-crusty young man, heir to the Duke of Innesford.
Right.
Harry, Henry, Bonham, whatever.
I read the tabloids.
There was no mention of Portia dating any kind of royalty.
The duke wanted it kept a secret.
The duke would be the lord's father.
I got it, Bones.
I understand, okay?
I'm just trying to help.
I...
All right, so the duke says something, and all of a sudden, magically, it happens.
Welcome to England.
A murderer is a murderer, no matter how close he is to the throne.
Please, help me find out who did this Why did you rent this?
I didn't rent this, okay?
They screwed up at the rent-a-car place.
I ordered an Aston-- you know, James Bond?-- but they gave me...
Yeah, they gave you an Austin.
It could happen to anyone.
Um...
we drive on the left here, as you may recall.
Driving here requires a different skill set-- I could take the wheel, if you like -- I'm an excellent driver.
Thank you, Rain Man.
No, I'm fine.
Tell you what, back home, we'd drag the whole Royal Family into interrogation, separately, let 'em stew, catch 'em in a lie.
We could do that, if you like, but it'll give them time to close up.
Do stay to the left here, please.
Close up?
Tighten ranks.
Nothing is as impenetrable as the aristocracy freezing out hoi polloi I must say, I'm rather looking forward to two Americans Oh, the light is red.
It's okay.
I'm turning right.
No, no, turning right on a red here is the equivalent of turning left on a red at home.
That makes no sense.
No, the point is it's against the law to turn on a red!
Brake!
Brake!
Whoa!
Brake!
Get out of the way, wanker!
Okay, I think we should wait here until the traffic thins out.
God, I hate London!
I hate England!
I'm glad we had a revolution!
Brennan.
And the weather-- it changes, it's cloudy...
The fatty acid composition of the victim's cervical fluid caught my attention, so I ran some more tests.
Turns out Portia Frampton was pregnant.
Pregnant?
How far along?
And coffee!
What is so hard about making a cup of black coffee...
About two months.
Okay.
Thanks, Kim.
God...
Okay, I feel much better.
What'd I miss?
Lord Henry Bonham, heir to the Duke of Innesford, knocked up the victim.
Right.
The Royals hate bastards.
Only the ones that don't make king.
Hang on, girls.
Let me get out nice castle castle ???
This...
is more properly called a "palace."
Bones, a little help getting out, Bones?
Geez, oh...
God.
Geez.
Heads up.
Getting out of this thing is like being born.
Ooh.
That the duke?
It's his gentleman's gentleman.
It's a butler.
How you doing there, sport?
Right.
FBI.
You might as well put this one away; it's worthless.
And yet here I am.
You mind waiting outside?
Why?
It's because Agent Booth not only wants he wants them upside down.
He'll annoy them, you mean.
Let's say the duke and duchess won't be used to your approach.
Word of advice: when they start commenting on you to each other, you've got them on the run.
Right.
I noticed in the crime scene photos that the backseats of which started me thinking that maybe the victim was transporting something, So Brennan had strips of material sent from the vehicle, ST-90 transmission oil, made with poly-alpha-olefin, leaded, acidic H2O residue, and plenty of polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons.
Don't make her ask.
Thank you, Angela.
A motorcycle was transported in the back of the SUV.
More likely a scooter, given the size.
The killer kills, loads the body and his scooter.
Or moped.
Drives to the Thames...
Dumps the car, body and all, in the river, and rides his scooter home.
Through the teeming streets of London.
So you're an honest- to-God real butler?
My family has served His Grace's family for eight generations.
Yeah, well, a real butler would offer to take my hat.
A real gentleman would be wearing a hat.
Whoa, look at this guy.
Uh, yes, sir.
It dates to...
please don't touch that, Agent Booth.
Late 1490s or early 1500s.
German design?
His Grace's ancestors fought for Henry VIII in France.
Oh, geez, look at the size of this.
That's one large cup-- probably to scare the sissy French.
Actually, Henry VIII started the trend of large codpieces because he had syphilis so his penis was extremely sensitive to anything His Grace favors the "intimidate the enemy" version, should the topic arise.
His Grace, Her Ladyship, and Lord Henry will meet you Two weeks and I'd heard nothing from Portia.
I knew it'd turn out to be something terrible.
You kept your relationship with Portia Frampton a secret.
It didn't mean I didn't love her.
Well, where we come from, that's exactly what it means.
in this American has the right to pose these questions?
Tell you what, you call Scotland Yard and the answer is always So, Portia ever come to visit this, uh, palace?
This house?
No.
Why?
I mean, you were in love with her.
Right, lord?
Well, it's my understanding that the class system though very much relaxed since the Second World War, still exists at the highest levels of society.
That's you, right?
One prefers not to make such an assertion.
How long did yo and Portia Frampton carry on a sexual relationship?
Did I ever say I was sleeping with her?
Of course you had sex with her, Harry, and I'm sure she rather enjoyed it.
You're a well-formed, athletic boy.
Did you offer refreshments?
I had no intention of encouraging them to stay longer, Mother.
Tea, please.
Harry kept his relationship with the Frampton girl secret because her father is a rapacious crook who uses intimidation and bribery to get what he wants.
So...
it had nothing to do with this?
They brought that wretched rag into the house.
I was there.
It was the afternoon before Portia's birthday party.
So you saw the photographer?
Of course not.
I'd have thrashed him.
The lord was going to go all medieval.
Portia's party was lovely.
She left before I awoke the next morning.
That's the last time I saw her.
But you did hear from her.
Right, because, uh, cell phone records indicate that you talked that morning.
It was a very personal conversation.
Did you discuss her pregnancy?
I got it.
I'll tell you what: there was an argument.
Portia wanted to keep the baby; you didn't.
I-I assure you I had absolutely no idea that...
Could he possibly be suggesting that pregnancy is a motive for murder?
Nonsense.
Arrangements would have been made.
Right, and you're positive that you're the father?
Harry.
Look at that.
I'm being intimidated by royalty.
If you must know, Portia broke up with me.
She said there was to be no discussion.
Ah!
There you go: motive for murder, no matter what country we're in, hmm?
What is this?
It's Assam black tea-- very strong.
Call it the upper class version of a cuppa joe.
Cheers.
Hey, I've been looking at those tabloid photos of the victim.
Now, in a telephoto shot, most of the frame is blurry.
Only the main subject is in focus.
What is this place A dungeon?
You see here?
These pixels loo like they've been altered to appear fuzzy.
So it wasn't really a telephoto lens?
You light it with torches, right?
It was a telephoto lens, but it's been doctored to look as though When ???
Well, why would anyone do that?
You see that white sliver?
You mean the white blob?
Yeah, it's a reflection of light, almost as though the And...
in Portia's eyes, do you see that?
No.
No.
It's a reflection of a house.
Do you see where I'm going?
No.
No.
Someone took the picture inside the house.
Right.
With an 80-millimeter lens.
Sweetie...my ex-husband is here with the divorce papers, so I'll fill you in when you get back.
I love the mix of personal and professional you people seem to manage.
Harry could have taken the photograph.
Yes, that's certainly a possibility, but Harry had no motive to take the photo.
We're most likely searching for a disgruntled servant I apologize for eating without you, but, apparently, to hold the table, you have to order.
Yeah.
I'm not here for food.
I'm here to get you to sign the divorce papers.
In my place, would you do that?
I'm not in your place.
I've been searching for Angela for five years.
I know.
I know.
Our private investigator told us everything.
You built Angela a home with your bare hands while simultaneously smuggling medicine to children in Cuba and supporting an orphanage.
You're a saint.
I get it.
If you believe that to be true, then you should want I do.
And guess what.
It's me.
Why are you better than me?
Obviously, I'm not.
But I do love her more than you.
Oh, you cannot possibly know that.
And yet, I do.
We are at an impasse.
You have no sense of dignity.
Yeah.
I'd give up my life for Angela, so what's a little dignity?
She kissed me, you know.
On the cheek or...?
What's going on?
Oh, man.
He says you kissed him.
I did.
Whoa.
It was a good-bye kiss.
There's nothing you can do.
You must accept...
Hodgins!
Here.
Can you take this, please?
Nice, Grayson.
Angela...
We've been working on identifying the photographer Well, surely, identifying her murderer is more important.
These are paparazzi.
They follow people.
So maybe he saw something.
I don't know, maybe the actual killer.
The photo was taken from a bedroom in Portia's home.
You're suggesting the help let a paparazzo into the house.
Actually, the hel told Inspector Pritchard that you were Look.
Maybe you want to tell us why you did it Roger and I have set five wedding dates over the years.
And, each time, Portia found a way to make him postpone.
She had her father wrapped around her little finger.
So you killed her?
Don't be ridiculous.
I...
I merely wanted Roger to regard Portia as a sexually mature adult with her own agenda instead of as an innocent child.
Sorry I'm late.
Court went rather longer than expected.
Heather, I trust you've said nothing.
Too late.
Too late why?
Your girlfriend sent the naked picture of your daughter to the tabloids so you'd stop thinking that she was perfect, and finally get married.
What Americans lack in subtlety, they make up with clarity.
Roger, I'm so sorry.
Why the hell would you do that?
Please believe me.
I would never do anything I simply made a terrible mistake.
Roger!
Oh, Roger!
I trust this interview is over.
Actually, I just have one more question.
Who the hell would want to wear this?
It's so nice to see you relaxing, enjoying some good Cheers.
Cheers.
Tell you what.
I'd like to see that open.
Really?
Why?
Luck.
Well, you'd have to be ridiculously lucky to see something like that,wouldn't you?
That's my point.
Well, you did get a little lucky today.
Yeah.
That's a Walther PPK.
It's a James Bond gun.
Booth-- Seeley Booth.
No, that's terrible.
Thanks, Pritch.
But, please, um, just remember, though, that if you do use it, I'm the one they'll hang.
Hey, I'm a good shot.
Oh.
Uh-oh, it's the American squints.
You'll love these people.
Booth-- Seeley Booth.
Hey, uh, the paper you sent me turns out to be a letter to Portia Frampton from her mother.
A keepsake from her childhood, perhaps?
No, it's dated this year.
What does the letter say?
Uh, the entire body of the letter is indecipherable.
The date and the salutation and the signature are clear, though.
Thanks, Ange.
So, Portia Frampton's mother is still alive?
Visible on the L2 is an area of radiolucency.
Can't see a damn thing.
Give us a moment, Clark.
We found a few more bone fragments today, Dr.
Wexler.
Good.
How old?
No more than 100 years.
To prevent Frampton from building his beloved skyscrapers we need to find something from the Bronze Age or older.
There is evidence of reabsorption of the surrounding bone.
Ah, here, yes, I see.
Very interesting.
Cyril, you're being impertinent.
Please stop speaking.
Well, could the anomalybe a hemangioblastoma?
Okay, off you go.
And don't come back until you find at least one Have Cam do a histology, Clark.
Will do, Dr.
Brennan.
So...
what now?
Well, I thought quick drink, back to yours for some sex, and then out for a late supper.
I'm inclined to accept.
I'm ever so pleased.
But Booth says I shouldn't trust you.
And why is that?
Well, he says you like to rack them up.
Rack them up?
How vulgar.
Booth is very good at reading people.
Hmm.
Well, in that case, how about we start with the supper, and then let the chips fall where they may?
That would be an acceptable compromise.
I checked out the skull fragments for microscopic traces.
How shiny and pretty-- what is it?
Mother-of-pearl.
Have you talked to Angela today?
Yes...
are you saying our victim was attacked by an abalone?
How mad is she?
Mad, mad, mad.
I thought women secretly liked it when we fought over them. "
Women" is an unacceptable generalization.
Well, you should look over your other shoulder.
Bones, I've been driving since I was 12, okay?
Would it make you less agitated if I told you that I didn't sleep with I'm not agitated, okay?
I'm agitated because of driving this little car, Look, Dr.
Wexler is just...
I'm not agitated because of you and Dr.
Wexler.
Wexler's just another guy looking for a one-night stand.
That's it...
whoa.
So?
So, he doesn't take it seriously.
Seriously?
What do you mean?
You never laugh during sex?
Because I do.
Whoa, do you see that lorry?
I see that lorry.
It's a truck, okay?
We're an American, and that is a truck.
I laugh during sex.
It's...
just...
it's not that kind of serious.
Well, I think Dr.
Wexler is serious about having sex with me.
Very interested.
Okay, news bulletin for you.
Bones, there's not a guy in this country who wouldn't have sex with you.
Probably half the gay men...
whoa, easy.
Are you being nice about me or awful about Wexler is not special; you are.
Brennan.
Am I interrupting anything?
No, I...
I'm just helping Booth drive.
Ooh, Booth shouldn't be behind the wheel.
He isn't adaptable.
I'm Mr.
Adaptable, okay?
And the mirror is the size of a thumbnail.
Well, what do you expect when you rent a car the size of your thumb?
I don't think there's enough fetal tissue to get a DNA reading, but...
Cam, can we just be quiet until we get into the flow of traffic here?
You think I'm special?
Of course I think that you're special, yes.
Thank you.
I will take your romantic advice under advisement.
Now you're too far to the left.
You're gonna hit the curb!
We're good.
Yeah, unless we get a flat tire.
No, we're good.
If I could speak again, I had better luck with the tumor.
Our victim suffered from Von-Hippel Lindau disease.
We got a flat tire.
How did that happen?
Uh, it...
there wasn't any evidence of VHL in either the mother's medical records or the autopsy report.
But it's hereditary, so her father must have it.
Roger Frampton worked for the NHL?
He...
he may have VHL disease.
What if he doesn't have it?
Then Roger Frampton is not Portia Frampton's biological father.
Oh, God.
Great.
That's just great.
I ???
My wife is not alive.
Your daughter was carrying a letter from her mother It was dated Portia's 21st birthday.
That's impossible.
Tell your lab boys they got it wrong.
Roger, the lab is, in fact, correct.
Portia was indeed carrying a letter from Sarah, dated her 21st birthday.
Portia and I met at a caf?
in Knightsbridge, the day after her party.
I gave her the letter personally.
I think you'll find Sarah knew she was dying and entrusted Mr.
Curry with letters, which he delivered on Portia's important birthdays.
How do you know?
Well, it's exactly what I'd have done if I were dying and leaving behind a young daughter.
That's all very touching and all, but it still makes Wig-wearing Willy here the last person that saw Portia alive.
For God's sake, now I'm a suspect?
You should've told me, William.
You're not the only person who engages me for my discretion, Roger.
What did the letter say?
I'm sure I couldn't possibly tell you.
Uh, Mr.
Frampton, how is your health?
What the hell has that got to do with anything?
Any nerve pain, dizziness, headaches?
No, I'm healthy as an ox.
Are you aware that Portia is not your biological daughter?
Perhaps I should conduct the rest of this interview.
Angela...
Here we go.
Angela, men are idiots.
Seriously.
Just to be clear, are you a man or a boy for the purposes of this conversation?
When I was ten, the kid next door had a turtle party wagon.
It's an accessory for the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figures.
It's a toy.
No?
Anyway, I loved that party wagon.
I wanted that party wagon.
So I climbed the tree outside his bedroom window.
But the tree had a fungus and his dad was too cheap to hire an arborist.
So unbeknownst to me, some of the branches were dead.
Lucky for you, I enjoy a convoluted story with my hot beverage.
I'm in the hospital-- broken arm, concussion...
and the kid with the party wagon comes in.
I confess everything.
You know what he says?
I would've given it to you.
He had a little gay crush on you.
He did?
Oh, man, that explains a lot.
But I'm guessing that you have a different point to the story, like maybe...
I'm the party wagon.
No, you're the gay neighbor boy.
Your love is the party wagon.
Grayson is the tree.
I'm Hodgins.
Think about it.
Which brings us back to the point that all men are idiots.
See how I worked that?
It's because I'm so good.
The treads in the victim's tires were mostly full of river silt.
But...
I did find a few more materials.
Crushed scleractinian coral.
Possibly from Australia.
She was killed in Australia?
It's used as a surface for private roadways in England.
How does that help us?
Well, it's been illegal to harvest this stuff for years, so the roadway in question is fairly old.
And even when this stuff was available, it was incredibly expensive.
And the organic material?
Deciduous pinnate leaflets, medium pink petals.
It's a rosa damascena.
An antique rose bush.
Hey, Hodgins...
Yeah.
Hey.
Hi, Angela.
Fine, I'll just pass this along to Booth and Dr.
Brennan You guys go ahead and...
Security cameras, people.
The building's filled with security cameras.
Can't have you punching my ex-husbands.
Deal.
So long as you don't kiss your ex-husbands On the lips.
Deal.
Look, it's simple.
My heart isn't yours to claim.
It's mine to give away.
I get that.
I mean what you're saying, not your heart.
Well, idiot...
you do get my heart.
Because you're giving it to me?
At last.
A glimmer of understanding.
Wow, that is so...
flaky and New Age and...
Yeah....wonderful.
Okay!
Okay!
I get it.
The universe speaks.
I hear.
Guy said he was going to fix the flat tire.
What's it doing up on the truck?
Crushed coral and rose petals.
Hodgins found coral and roses in Portia Frampton's tires.
Who takes a car with a flat tire and puts it up on a truck, all right?
You fix it.
That's what you do.
If there was a spare tire, I'd have fixed it.
Probably you cracked an axle or something.
Thanks, Cam.
That was very useful.
All right, great, now I got to call Agent Pritchard and I'm gonna have to ask her for a ride.
You know, England is not good for my personal dignity, all because of a f...
flat tire.
Wait.
Whoa, whoa, Bones, don't smell that.
You don't know where that's been.
Yes, I do.
This is crushed coral and it...
smells like roses.
Where did we pick up crushed coral?
The private road and driveway at the Bonham Estate.
Portia Frampton drove to the Bonham Estate just before she died.
And the royals said she never came to the house.
He ???
You honestly believe the Duke of Innesford is Portia Frampton's Both he and his mother show symptoms of VHL disease.
Well, we're standing on coral; those are rose bushes, and that is a scooter that could fit very nicely into the back of an SUV.
That's great.
Okay, what's taking our backup so long?
I didn't request backup.
Well, great.
In that case...
I want a gun.
I'm a very good shot and I've killed before.
It didn't bother me as much as I thought.
It bothered you a little.
Yes, but not as much as I thought.
If there's gonna be gunplay, I think I'll wait in the car.
Nonsense, Ian, there won't be any gunplay.
Why not?
We won't need guns because we have the letter from Portia's mother.
We don't know what it says.
Ah, but they don't know that.
Good one, Pritch.
What'd you just call her? "
Pritch," Ian.
He called me, "Pritch."
Short for "Pritchard."
Will you please put that weapon away.
Fine.
It just feels wrong.
I have a letter addressed to Portia from her mother.
Portia's mother died 14 years ago.
She wrote it on her deathbed.