CSI
Who Shot Sherlock?

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Elementary, Dear Grissom

After some brief and not at all necessary exposition on the part of Cavaliere and Emergency Backup David -- you really didn't need to know the victim's name was Cory Demayo, did you? -- we get to the meat of the case. The wee contusion on Cory's forehead isn't likely to be what did him in, and the lack of skid marks means that Cory didn't brake, swerve, lose control of the car, or otherwise fall victim to some sort of surprise accident. Emergency Backup David's suggestion that Cory fell asleep at the wheel is quickly vetoed by Snicky on the grounds that being flung over a steep embankment is a hell of a wakeup call. Even more baffling: the keys are still in the ignition and the car's still in drive, yet it's not running. We also get two pieces of evidence that ultimately go nowhere: a near-empty wallet, and a spliff. The CSIs pay lip service to the drugs-are-bad angle, lest some other group of imbalanced anti-TV activists find a reason for protesting this show beyond unrelenting misogynistic sex crimes and grue. And then they get back to the actual meat of the mystery. Which, at this point, is still mystery meat to them.

Cut to Liam processing Kingsley's body, accompanied by a violinist since this is the classy plot. After snapping a boatload of photos, Liam happens to notice the giant, nasty abscess inside one arm. Uh-oh. Someone wasn't practicing safe injecting. That could have killed him. If the bullets hadn't gotten there first.

Sara and David the "My Hobbies Have No Dress Codes"-Implying coroner are looking over Liam's photos while David asks, "Did this guy really dress up like Sherlock Holmes?" Straining to sound non-judgmental, Sara replies too evenly, "At least once a week, evidently. Like those Civil War re-enactors. I never understood that." David dryly notes that COD was no surprise, what with a bullet to the skull often being lethal. Liam bounces in right then to share the results of the tox screens, wherein we discover that, like his idol, Kingsley was often coked to the gills. Sara's all, "Well, that would explain the track marks then." Liam then adds that there's a 7% morphine solution in Kingsley's blood and the syringe. It's amazing Kingsley had the wherewithal to sleep without choking on his own vomit, much less summon the energy to be a Sherlock Holmes groupie. "Sherlock went from crack to smack," Liam concludes impudently. Sara notes that it was premium smack at that. David notes that Kingsley's dose would have put him out within seconds. Liam muses, "Not much time to undo the works, put away his antique syringe, pick up a gun and blow his brains out." Sara and David look stunned by this insight. Or maybe they're humoring him. Liam concludes that Kingsley probably didn't take his own life, and the discordant violins of violence take us to commercials.

When we get back, Cavaliere and Warrick are interviewing my former roommate. No, not really. But the resemblance is totally startling -- this guy looks like Mike P., most infamous in my social circle for being the guy who once stumbled up from the basement and slurred, "Dude, I just smoked the most insane bowl and took the best nap. I'm ready for the weekend"...on a Sunday night. He's actually Cory the Mystery Corpse's roommate. Anyway, Warrick asks this supremely mellow young man how he got the goose egg on his noggin, and it takes a few seconds for Mellow Gold to realize he's got a bump before he answers, "Oh...windsurfing. Heh." We find out that Randy of the Red Eyes didn't drive back home with Cory because "I sort of hooked up with this chick, so I bounced." Warrick congratulates Bud on his prowess with the ladies and asks for the young woman's name. Allison Alibi, perhaps? The Wowie from Maui replies, "Uh...Jennifer." Dude, this would have been so much funnier if he had been all, "Mary Jane, man." Cavaliere wonders if Jennifer has a last name and Sparky grins, "Uhhh...Jennifer Nipple Ring?" That is officially the world's best last name. I would pay her to get lost at airports just so people would have to page her. Warrick and Cavaliere crack up too. Possibly because the only other option is to cry. We finally find out Tall, Dank and Handsome's name as Warrick asks, "Lowery, were you guys out getting high yesterday?" Why, whatever would make you think that? Lowery lies like a rug, but Warrick soon wears him down (i.e. says, "Really?") and scares him by sharing the story he plans on telling a prosecutor: "You and Cory got stoned. And you drove away. Cory lost control of the Jeep, at which point, you couldn't wake him up, so you decided to take advantage of the situation, rifle through his wallet and leave." Lowery is offended by this depiction of events: "Man, that is not what went down!" Cavaliere twists the knife by pointing out that Lowery is looking at charges of: robbery, leaving the scene, and failure to report an accident. Lowery replies, "I didn't get back in the car with Cory. And if I had, I wouldn't have left him." Surprisingly, this display of lucidity fails to convince Warrick. The CSI asks for a DNA sample and Lowery cagily inquires, "Why?" So they can see if he's the one smoking the wacky tobaccy, Warrick explains.

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