"Psst." "Come here." "We shouldn't do this here." "Yeah, I agree." "We have to go." "We have reservations at Hatfield's at 8:00." "So you leave first, I will follow, and the night is ours." "Mm." "I'm looking for Dr. Saroyan." "Now?" "I'm not taking this home with me." "Yeah, now." "Um, I'm Dr. Saroyan." "This was found in a hazardous waste disposal facility." "Uh, we tried to call." "We're sort of closed for the night." "Yeah, she's had a long day." "Yeah, me, too." "Especially after I saw this." "Can't really see myself having dinner tonight." "Me neither." "You know, I just think that we need a vacation." "You know?" "We haven't been away since Christine was born." "I have." "You were running away from the police." "I'm just saying, like, you know, the two of us as a couple would get away." "Hmm." "You like that, don't you?" "I do." "Oh, I've been meaning to visit the outlying villages in Yangon to study the linguistic characteristics of..." "No, no, no, no, no, no, no." "No Langoey, all right, or whatever." "No..." "I'm talking about beach and mai tais." "All right?" "That's a vacation-- no learning." "I think you would enjoy the epistemological nature of their language..." "No!" "I'm talking about beach and spa, sex and room service and sleeping late." "Now, that is a vacation." "I want to come back stupid." "I always enjoy learning something." "Well, how about learning how to have fun, Bones?" "Booth." "Brennan." "Right." "Okay, where?" "On my way." "All right, I'll be there." "Dude in a barrel?" "I have no way of knowing it's a dude yet." "Or dudette-- dude, dudette." "Okay, listen, we'll talk about..." "Mongolia." "Spain." "Ah, sangria." "I've been there." "Christine, help me out." "Tell Mom we need beaches." "The company is Lantech Waste Disposal." "They have 60 trucks in the tri-state area." "And they don't know where the barrels come from?" "Nope, they pick up the full ones, they drop off empties." "They're not opened till they get back to the plant and are dropped off." "And these are all the logs?" "All the routes." "It's gonna take me weeks to go through all these businesses they deal with." "I know." "Glad I don't have to do it." "Have a good one." "I wasn't able to X-ray the inside because of the metal." "So, at this point, we're just trying to decide what happened to an arm." "We wouldn't have this much soap unless there was more victim inside there." "You sure it's soap?" "Well, it's got to be some kind of salt-based hydroxide that was poured into the barrel, dissolving our victim's fat, which is how you get soap." "Assuming the killer wasn't trying to make soap," "I'm guessing this was just an epically failed attempt at a body disposal." "Distance between the lunate and the third distal phalanx suggests the victim is male." "You can tell all that just from a hand?" "Extremities can be very informative." "Are you gonna talk about the size of a man's feet now?" "A 2002 urology study in London showed that there was no correlation between the size of a man's penis and the size of his feet." "That was a study?" "They should've just called." "It's nice how close we all are, but maybe we should just focus on soap-man here." "Are you able to estimate time of death based on the soap compound?" "At this point, all I know is that it would take approximately 24 hours for the chemical to actually dissolve our friend here down to the bone." "Wow, that's fast." "Yeah, yeah, but add on to that 12 to 24 hours for the soap to actually harden and set." "So we're looking at a minimum of 36 to 48 hours." "From when the victim actually entered into the barrel?" "Yes, that is correct." "And any bones that are still in there could be decomposing as well." "I'm on it." "Ready?" "Yeah." "This should do it." "Oh!" "Okay." "Let me know when the bones are clean, Mr. Vaziri." "Bones are clean?" "I think the soap already did that." "♪ Bones 8x18 ♪ The Survivor in the Soap Original Air Date on March 4, 2013" "The victim's broad nasal aperture with a rounded nasal sill in combination with the protruding nature of the mandible suggests negroid." "Based on the shape of the skull, probably West African in origin." "If you could get me some kind of age range, it would really help me with facial reconstruction." "There's no osteoarthritic osteophytes anywhere." "Yeah, I was kind of hoping for that in years." "Between 20 and 30 years." "Are these areas bone lesions?" "Bone cancer maybe." "Or... thymosis-- also known as yaws?" "What's that?" "It's a tropical disease, common in children in Sub-Saharan Africa." "The victim may very well have grown up in Africa." "You got a hit already?" "Yeah, I didn't need much of a facial reconstruction." "There's only so many West Africans on the missing persons list." "Symchay Conteh." "Age 24, reported missing by Alvin James." "The FBI is chasing down 117 Alvin Jameses, but I think it's a fake name." "Why?" "I ran the missing persons report through an NSA voice analyzer program, and..." "My friend is missing." "His name is Symchay Conteh." "And your name is?" "Alvin James." "There." "His pitch elevates slightly, suggesting that he's lying." "I've also isolated some noise behind him." "What is that?" "It sounds like lug nuts being removed and... a tire being inflated." "Gas station?" "Symchay Conteh, called in by an unknown suspicious second party from a gas station." "I know it's crazy, but I'm already thinking about lunch." "So..." "Hey, uh, if I didn't already know about Arastoo and Cam..." "You do not know." "Only I know, at least as far as Arastoo and Cam are concerned." "Oh, come on, look at them." "She's signing a requisition." "Look, you only know because I confirmed it." "She's gonna figure out that I would've known if I didn't have to hide the fact that I already knew." "Okay, I'm gonna run away now." "I'm surprised they have their clothes on." "Symchay's a good kid." "Uh, friendly, quiet." "How well did you know him?" "I just started working here three weeks ago." "Mostly during the day when he's at work, um, but we are both from Sierra Leone, so..." "When was the last time you saw him?" "Three days ago." "I was fixing the light down the hall." "Roommate?" "Girlfriends?" "Symchay lives alone." "The rest... uh, girls, I-I don't know." "Thank you." "So, what do you think?" "No photos of parents, nothing of him as a kid." "I mean, the youngest photo of him is maybe 18." "This is someone who is focused on starting a new life." "You notice there's no African stuff?" "You know, maybe he was just trying to fit in to this country, right?" "Or... maybe he very much wanted to leave his old life behind." "Looks like our guy Symchay graduated from chef school last May." "Bed's made, but the couch isn't." "Yeah." "Right, so the maintenance guy said the victim lived alone." "Someone visiting?" "What is that, receipts?" "Like duplication sheets from a taxicab logbook." "Whoever it was, there's no other sign that they were ever here." "Good Samaritan lets a cabbie sleep on his couch, and then he gets murdered for it?" "This is what I signed on for?" "Yes, an industrial dishwasher." "You're sending the remains through a power rinse cycle?" "Basically it's covered in soap, so yeah." "This isn't gonna wash away any evidence?" "The catch tray will collect the runoff and any particulates." "I'm sorry we didn't get our evening." "Occupational hazard." "At least I was here with you." "I know this is hard." "Loving you is the easiest thing in my life right now." "I'd like to boast to the world about it, but that's just my ego." "You were expecting this right?" "You can expect something and still be knocked off your feet when it happens." "Clean as a whistle." "So what will the State Department let you tell us about Symchay Conteh?" "Symchay Conteh escaped Sierra Leone to Guinea about ten years ago and applied for refuge status." "He was 14 years old;" "you mean his parents applied for refuge status?" "No, he was an orphan on his own." "When he came to the States, he applied for and was granted asylum." "Which means a 14-year-old boy had reason to fear for his life if he was sent home." "It was after the civil war." "The kid did all right." "Five years later, he was granted U.S. citizenship." "Never went back to Sierra Leone?" "Well, Sweets was saying that he was doing everything he could to go forward, not back." "Model citizen." "Worked steadily." "I'd hate to think that his past caught up with him in some way." "Why you say it like that?" "He had a lot of temporary part-time jobs, but one source of income remained steady the whole time." "Something to do with Sierra Leone?" "Yeah, he was getting payments from, uh," "Wilford Hamilton and Associates." "Law firm or accountant?" "Law firm, specializing in immigration." "Why would an immigration lawyer be paying the victim instead of vice versa?" "Thanks, Alex." "Anything I can do to help on this, Booth." "People come to this country looking for a new start." "Someone messes with that, they're messing with the United States of America." "Can I help you?" "FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth." "Looking for a Mr. Wilford Hamilton." "His law office says he'd be down here doing pro bono work today." "Yeah, I'm Hamilton." "Uh, mind putting away the badge?" "It makes some people uncomfortable." "No, it's true, Booth." "Some of these children or their parents are from countries with oppressive military regimes." "I understand." "Been to those places before." "Okay, badge is going away." "You don't seem like an FBI agent." "Thank you." "Thank you?" "I mean," "I'm very proud to be a forensic anthropologist." "Proud to be an FBI guy." "Forensic anthropologist?" "Wait... something bad happen?" "Symchay is dead?" "Well, can you please tell us how you know him?" "Uh, yes." "I was Symchay's lawyer when he applied for asylum, and then later I hired him to help other refuges get on their feet." "How long ago did Symchay die?" "Three days." "How did Symchay help other refugees?" "Got them settled, helped them find a living situation, um, a job, et cetera." "I didn't pay him very much." "The fact is, he would've done it for free." "Did he ever have any trouble with any of the other clients that he helped out?" "No." "No, no, everyone loved Symchay." "Any signs of trouble from his past?" "Wait a second." "Who's this?" "Brima Chalobah." "It's a friend of Symchay's who was deported back to Sierra Leone two years ago." "Okay, if he was deported, why is that of interest to me?" "Because he's back here in the U.S. illegally." "How do you know?" "Because he came here." "And he asked Symchay for help, but Symchay told him that there was not a thing we could do for him as long as he was in the country illegally." "Right, and Symchay didn't tell the police?" "No." "Neither of us did." "People here have to be able to trust us." "Right." "Well, that trust could have gotten Symchay killed." "This is my case, Alex." "You got deportees, illegal immigrants, dead asylum refugees." "That means State oversees this case, Booth." "And I'm State." "Right." "So as an overseer, what exactly do you do?" "Can you just, I don't know, enlighten me?" "I tell you what to do." "I exhort... and then you make me look good." "Here's Brima's file." "He was deported for almost killing a man in a street fight." "This lawyer, Hamilton, he's sure Brima is back in the States?" "Well, fingerprints confirm Brima was the missing roommate sleeping on Symchay's couch." "Okay, so he's here illegally, has a history of violence." "Maybe they fight." "Okay, Brima kills Symchay and he takes off, but the question is where?" "The Baltimore-D.C. area has the largest population of Sierra Leonean immigrants in the U.S." "And they protect each other because they know being sent back is a lot worse than prison here." "No one's gonna give him up." "Don't worry, buddy, you'll get him." "And I'll give you all the appropriate credit." "I'm not a small man." "I tracked down the cab company from the logbook pages that Booth found in the victim's apartment." "Did the victim or the roommate work there?" "Well, Brima is illegal, so he probably didn't want to use his real name." "And as we know, the anonymous caller who reported Symchay missing seemed to be calling from a garage." "So you think it was the taxi garage and Brima was the caller?" "Yeah." "Booth thinks it's possible." "If Brima killed Symchay, why would he report himself?" "I don't know." "That's why I asked for the dispatch recordings from the cab company." "I can compare them to the 911 call, and then maybe we can find out if Brima made the call." "Okay." "Mr. Vaziri." "No remodeling, which means these rib fractures occurred close to time of death." "But you haven't found any injuries severe enough to give us cause of death?" "No injuries severe enough for him to even notice." "I disagree." "These broken ribs alone would have been extremely painful." "They aren't anything he wasn't used to." "I've catalogued eight remodeled antemortem injuries so far:" "a fractured tibia... clavicle... mandible, all dating back to his childhood." "Life in Sierra Leone wasn't easy." "There was a war." "Exactly." "Bone deformation in the vertebrae and the knees and feet from carrying heavy loads barefoot." "Yes." "And the asymmetry of the shoulder joint, common from repeated use of AK-47's." "The butt of the gun repeatedly jamming against the shoulder frame." "I saw this in Guatemala and Darfur." "Symchay Conteh wasn't just a refugee from Sierra Leone." "He was a child soldier." "A small boy taught to kill." "Who's the victim in that case?" "When you were growing up in Iran during the war with Iraq..." "I was privileged." "Sheltered." "I dealt with power outages, food shortages and propaganda." "I had it easy." "No one has it easy in war." "I'm not the victim here, Dr. Brennan." "I'd like to focus on Symchay." "Symchay's bank records show that he received a check for a thousand dollars the day before he died." "At a gallery?" "Yeah." "Some photo gallery on, uh, U Street." "Ironic that he was a chef." "Child soldiers were controlled through food." "If they didn't kill, they didn't eat." "Well, he came here to start over, and look what happened." "Man." "You know, I really need a vacation." "We'll go." "I've been thinking:" "Paris." "Paris!" "Yeah!" "All right!" "Okay, now you're talking." "The catacombs are filled with historical remains, and the sewer system is fascinating." "Right, skeletons and poop." "Well, way to ruin Paris, Bones." "Well, the food there is superb." "I lost my appetite." "So you hired Symchay through the AFP fugee center?" "Yeah." "And given my subject matter," "I wanted a West African chef to cater the opening." "He came highly recommended." "You took all of these photographs?" "Yep." "I covered the war in Sierra Leone for over three years." "That couldn't have been easy." "It wasn't." "Taken me ten years to exhibit these." "You know, it's my job as a photographer to maintain a distance, to be a "dispassionate observer."" "It's easier said than done." "It's tough in our line of work, too." "So, did you contact Symchay personally, or was it all done through e-mails?" "No, no, we met once, uh, to go over the menus, so he could scout the location, see what he needed to bring." "You know, stuff like that." "Right." "And that was what, three days ago?" "Yeah." "The day he went missing." "You know, when I was showing him around, I realized I'd made a mistake." "I don't understand." "When he looked at the photos, he just broke down." "He started crying." "He fell to his knees." "I just... felt terrible." "He didn't know what he was getting himself into?" "Yes." "On the phone, he said he can handle it." "He might have been able to if he hadn't seen this." "What's that?" "Oh, that one's particularly heartbreaking." "Call that one "Initiation Day."" "The shape of the skull, the anterior nasal spine, the mandible." "The child soldier in this photograph is Symchay." "So, you keep any potassium hydroxide around here?" "Yeah, I use it to develop my high-contrast photos." "How much do you keep on the premises?" "Maybe, I don't know, a pound." "What's going on?" "This is the last place Symchay Conteh was seen alive." "His killer tried to dissolve his dead body in potassium hydroxide." "You think I killed him?" "Well, the photo you took of him is the centerpiece of your show." "But I didn't know that." "People change between the age of seven and 24." "You know, I have seen enough death, thanks." "I have no interest in killing anybody myself." "Have you ever gotten any help, Ms. Singer?" "I'm a veteran;" "I can recognize post-traumatic stress disorder." "Yes." "I got help." "I had trouble sleeping." "I had dreams." "I got depressed." "But I have my work, and I never killed anybody." "Can you say the same thing?" "No, I cannot." "I may have found cause of death." "There's a linear cut on the right clavicle." "And there is also fracturing adjacent to the cut along the right side at one end." "There's similar fracturing on the left side at the opposing end of the cut." "Indicative of a stab-and-twist movement." "A bayonet." "Both sides of the conflict in Sierra Leone used bayonets." "Have Dr. Hodgins swab the cut for particulates before we jump to any conclusions." "So, Kimberly's coverage of the war covered multiple years in multiple zones." "Suggests extraordinary access on both sides of the conflict." "Symchay Conteh comes to the gallery, and is literally confronted with his past, a past he's tried everything possible to repress." "Well, that explains why he might attack her, not vice versa." "Unless... he knows something about her." "What about the potassium hydroxide?" "Well, we checked out her purchasing records, and she didn't buy enough of the stuff to dissolve a body." "I suspect when you find your illegal alien, you'll find your killer." "Oh, so what, now you want to be an FBI agent?" "I watch TV." "I can contribute." "Or you just want the bad guy not to be an American, right?" "Boom." "Really?" "You got something?" "Yeah." "You remember the missing persons call?" "Sure." "Maybe came from a garage?" "I compared it to the dispatch calls from the cab company, and..." "My friend is missing." "His name is Symchay Conteh." "And your name is?" "Alvin James." "Okay." "Now..." "Cab 297." "Pick up at Eastern and Addisson for drop-off at Benning and 16th." "297?" "That's correct." "I can't tell if it's the same voice." "Well, our ears might fool us, but the voices actually match beyond what our ears can hear." "And the driver of cab 297 is Brima?" "All I know is that the cabdriver definitely made the 911 call." "And, now, the cab is registered to Anthony Johnson." "When I lived in New York, there was a guy who lived upstairs from me who worked legally for a cab company, but he would sometimes let his roommate drive the cab so that it could run 24/7." "And the roommate was not legal." "So maybe that's what's happening here." "I'll tell Booth." "Here on the left..." "Ah." "Hey!" "There you are, sir." "I see you." "Man, here you go." "Finally, huh?" "Yes." "Cold out there, huh?" "Yes." "Where to, sir?" "Brima Chalobah?" "Uh, no, no, sir." "My, uh, my name is Anthony Johnson." "Oh." "My name is FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth." "We should talk." "I called because I had feared something happened to Symchay." "I don't need to tell you you're in lot of trouble, Mr. Chalobah." "I did not hurt Symchay;" "he was my friend." "You're in this country illegally, you... got a criminal record." "I did nothing then." "I was just standing there when the fight started." "What happened to your hand?" "When I was a boy... at school," "I refused to kill my teacher... so the rebel soldiers made me watch while they did." "And then they cut off your hand." "The government slogan was:" ""The decision is in your hands."" "So the rebels took your hand." "Bastards." "Sorry, but you knew about this?" "You think I could get where I am at State without being the best?" "I promise you, sir," "I did not kill Symchay." "How could I with one hand?" "Well, you know, you're a strong man, you used to be a soldier" "I can only imagine the people you killed with just one hand." "Symchay was my friend." "I was forced to kill, but I am not a monster." "Maybe Symchay was gonna turn you in for being illegal." " He would never do that." " You know what, maybe all this was just an accident." "I mean, maybe seeing the photograph for the first time just triggered something in Symchay." "He comes home, all bugged out, you guys fight." "You didn't mean to kill him." "But that photo was not new to him." "It was published in the Freetown Unite, a community paper, five years ago." "You're positive that Symchay saw that photo?" "As part of a child soldier's rehabilitation, they have to face what they've done." "We were taught that none of this is our fault, that first we must learn to forgive ourselves." "I..." "I tried." "I really tried." "I believe him." "I'd like to, but... the kind of trauma he suffered, it never really goes away." "It can manifest suddenly." "He called the police." "He was concerned about his friend." "Yeah, remorse." "Delayed onset PTSD can cause violent outbursts brought on by seemingly minor events." "It's called hyperarousal." "Now, after the event, the person experiences regret and self-hatred." "Well, I hope he's innocent." "'Cause the last thing I want is to be the son of a bitch who sent him back to his death." "Brima couldn't have killed Symchay." "Well, the guy looks pretty scary, and Booth said that a soldier wouldn't need both hands, so..." "This one would." "Angela modeled the attack." "Given the extent of the victim's injuries, and Brima, and the victim's height and weight differentials, he couldn't have done it." "If he had both hands, yes, but as an amputee, no way." "Have you figured out what was used to stab Symchay?" "Yes and no." "But mostly no." "See, the results from the swab indicate a weapon made of steel." "Medium-carbon steel-- that's what they use to make bayonets." "Yeah, but this isn't medium-carbon." "It's chrome-plated and contains traces of potassium chloride." "I don't understand." "Neither do I." "I mean, potassium chloride?" "That's a residue common to an AK-47 after firing." "And the steel and chrome plating matches an AK?" "Yep." "This injury was made by an AK-47." "That makes no sense." "You can't slice the clavicle with the barrel of an AK-47." "You made a mistake;" "test it again." "I get that you're upset about this, but I didn't mess up here." "Do you have any idea what this man went through?" "Yes, but..." "No, it wasn't an unhappy childhood." "His problems weren't getting into the right preschool and having the coolest sneakers." "I get that." "It was hell!" "He grew up in hell, Hodgins!" "Making mistakes and giving up-- that can't happen!" "Hey!" "I am not giving up!" "Now, I'm sorry that you don't like my results, but I didn't mess up here!" "Do you want the whole lab hearing you?" "Because that's what's happening." "I do not need him coming in here and accusing me of being incompetent and not caring." "You're the intern." "I'm the guy with "Doctor" in front of his name." "I had no idea you were incapable of making mistakes!" "Maybe I should just bow down to you and do whatever you say!" "Okay, that is enough." "You go back to work, Dr. Hodgins." "Mr. Vaziri, you come with me." "What's going on?" "I'm trying to solve this case." "And you feel you're the only one who can by alienating the most brilliant staff in the country?" "I'll apologize and get back to work." "I didn't say you could go." "I'm also your boss, remember?" "I remember." "What's going on, Arastoo?" "You don't sound like my boss now." "I want to help you;" "talk to me." "Would you like everyone here to see your concern?" "I don't think so." "This is work." "I'll be a professional." "I'm sorry for my behavior." "It was wrong, and it won't happen again." "But I would really like to get back to the bones." "Woke up and you weren't there." "I couldn't sleep." "What are those?" "Some pictures I took in Central America and Darfur." "It was impossible to identify all of them." "And these soldiers?" "They were helping us." "I was grateful at the time, but look at them." "I mean, look at him, Booth." "He couldn't be more than 15." "I thanked him." "Well, you had a job to do." "In Afghanistan, when you see boys like this, do you let them fight?" "It was different." "You know, there was a..." "there was a protocol." "I should have made sure that he could put down that gun and have a normal life." "Well, what's normal in a war zone, Bones, really?" "Well, not this." "We can never let this be normal, even if they're on our side." "Hey." "It's 3:00 in the morning;" "is everything okay?" "Uh, you tell me." "Why are you up?" "Probably the same reason you are:" "the case." "There's still no helpful evidence?" "Well, Hodgins found a gun that's somehow supposed to be used as a knife, but it doesn't trace back to anyone." "We'll go over the remains again, but so far, we have nothing of value." "All we're sure of is that there was an inciting incident at the gallery that set off Symchay?" "But he's the only one who knows what upset him that day, and he's not alive to tell us." "Maybe his friend does." "Brima?" "We know that Brima didn't kill him, and he was telling the truth about being Symchay's friend." "Yeah." "They did go to rehabilitation together after they escaped from Sierra Leone." "I mean, part of that process is baring all." "So you think that maybe he can tell us what upset Symchay that day at the gallery?" "What else do we have to go on?" "Ms. Singer, what are you doing?" "You know, I avoided exhibiting these photographs for years, and I was right to." "This life... my life so horrible." "We need to see the photographs, all of them." "Haven't they done enough harm?" "I know this boy." "And him." "Symchay saw something here." "Brima might know what it is." "Or it might make things worse." "These boys that you recognize, are they in the States, too?" "No." "He tried to run, but he was caught." "They cut his legs off and threw him in the bushes." "And Amadu-- he was shot by the government soldiers while he was asleep." "I wanted to help." "I thought if I called attention to what was happening..." "But no one cares." "No, we care." "No!" "No." "Do you recognize this boy, too?" "No." "The man!" "Oh, God." "The janitor." "W-What janitor?" "Janitor in Symchay's building." "You never saw him?" "This man, right here, do you know his name?" "That's Joseph Mbarga, an R.U.F. general-- a monster." "He was responsible for recruiting thousands of child soldiers." "He disappeared after the war." "He's still wanted for war crimes." "Symchay probably threatened to expose him." "Are you sure this is the same man?" "It's years later." "That is him, all right?" "That's him, Bones." "It's him." "He's here." "Deft old war criminal like this, he's not gonna give us anything." "Booth's been up against these guys before." "I am not who you say I am." "Really?" "'Cause the fingerprints here say that you are Joseph Mbarga." "And so will the DNA, my friend." "I'm not an expert on the subject, but I've heard Mbarga was never fingerprinted." "And that all DNA evidence was destroyed in the revolution." "Did Symchay confront you?" "I doubt it." "Mbarga would be a giant, invulnerable figure to Symchay." "No, he probably didn't." "He was probably too scared." "Okay, so here are your choices." "You either confess to this murder, and you're tried here or we deport you back to The Hague, where you have to answer to 17 counts of crimes against humanity for which you've already been indicted." "I have nothing to say to you." "You're wasting your time." "Did it ever occur to you to just... do the right thing?" "Is Booth serious?" "This man's a monster." "Booth is a very good man." "He has a hard time accepting the idea of a human being without morals, no matter how often he sees it." "My name is Tony Dennis." "My papers are in order." "I'm here legally." "You must let me go or grant me a lawyer." "I don't know what he hoped to accomplish with this." "He has a reason." "He always has a reason." "We are not who they say we are." "We are a peaceful people looking for peaceful revolution to this disastrous civil war." "That's from a pirate radio broadcast" "Joseph Mbarga made 12 years ago back in Sierra Leone." "Right." "I compared that to the voice of the man you questioned today." "And?" "I am not who you say I am." "We are not who they say we are." "Do they match?" "It might not sound the same initially, but yes, completely." "The man you have in custody is definitely Joseph Mbarga." "So that's why you questioned him." "You didn't care what he had to say, so long as he said something." "I'm not gonna let this guy back in the world if I have anything to say about it." "You are wasted in the FBI, Booth." "Why don't you come work at the State Department?" "I could hook that up." "So, man we have in custody is definitely Joseph Mbarga." "But I haven't proved that he is the one who killed Symchay." "Doesn't matter anymore, Bones." "I got him on at least 1,000 other murders." "But I'm investigating this murder, and I found something." "What?" "A second stab wound on the victim's atlas on the inside." "He was stabbed twice?" "Yes." "With two weapons." "Very similar, but not identical." "Oh, like a double prong?" "That would make the most sense." "A two-pronged weapon made of chrome-plated steel matching an AK-47." "According to the Book of Isaiah," ""They shall beat their swords into ploughshares."" "Yes, it means to turn weapons to peaceful uses." "Maybe that actually happened, okay?" "Maybe he turned his AK-47 into a pitchfork." "Not a pitchfork, Booth." "An African tribal mask." "You sound really confident about that." "I am." "I saw the mask." "You saw the mask?" "Just heard from our friend at State." "Guess who Joseph Mbarga, aka Tony Dennis, used as an immigration lawyer?" "Wilford Hamilton." "The clinic here uses potassium hydroxide as a cleaner." "There's more than enough to fill the barrel." "All right, this guy's going down." "There it is." "What the hell is going on?" "Wilford Hamilton, you're under arrest for the murder of Symchay Conteh." "You gonna profess your innocence now?" "I am innocent." "Booth?" "Yeah." "There's blood on the horns as well as the hanging wire on the back." "Did you cut your little finger on the back of the wire there?" "That is sloppy." "Yeah, a month ago when I hung the mask." "Really?" "Reflective infrared spectroscopy will show that your blood stain and Symchay's happened concurrently." "Symchay came to you and told you that his janitor was Joseph Mbarga." "He trusted you." "You killed him because you didn't want to be exposed for shielding a war criminal." "What's your next play now?" "You're gonna say taking money from one big bad like Mbarga is worth the price because it kept the refugee center open?" "You're wrong, you bastard." "You're dead wrong!" "Just relax." "We got him, okay?" "Hey, I'm not a cop, Booth." "I hope you get killed in jail." "I agree with Mr. Radziwill." "I don't." "Actually, I want to see him go through the whole system." "...killed someone." "What about us?" "What is he saying?" "What language do most of these people speak?" "English." "English is the official language, yes, but Krio actually is the de facto national language." "Why?" "They're scared." "I mean, they're refugees who are seeing the guy they thought was helping them being arrested." "That man was arrested, not because he was helping you." "He was arrested because he betrayed you." "What she said." "Was that Krio?" "What did you say about me?" "Thank you." "Thank you." "Thank you." "Uh, what did you promise them?" "Thank you, thank you, thank you." "Oh, my God." "What did you say?" "!" "Are you done?" "Just about." "I need to explain something to you." "Okay." "I have some experience with child soldiers from the other side." "There were 96,000 child soldiers during that first Persian Gulf War." "You said that you were privileged." "I was." "But there were others." "My cousin." "You don't have to tell me." "I want to." "My cousin was taken away." "I saw it." "I could do nothing." "You were just a child yourself." "Farid died." "We're at work." "Never mind." "Someone will see us." "That boat just sailed, Arastoo." "Okay, now I most definitely would have figured this out." "Why are Cam and Arastoo embracing?" "Arastoo and I, we, uh..." "Um, when I'm at work," "I will call this woman Dr. Saroyan, and she will call me Mr. Vaziri, but when we're not at work..." "When we're not at work..." "Why does it matter what you call each other?" "Exactly." "Oh, oh." "Okay, I see." "Uh, it's symbolic." "As all nomenclature is at its core." "You will not see any evidence that Cam and I are more than colleagues." "Are we supposed to clap or something?" "No, Dr. Hodgins." "Because we're at work." "Really, Dr. Hodgins, you need to learn how to pick up on the more subtle social indicators." "Yes, yes." "I guess I'm just a romantic." "Yeah!" "Yay!" "All right!" "Proud of you." "Yay!" "Good-looking couple." "Where you going?" "Babe?" "It's very strange that I didn't notice that Cam and my intern were romantically involved." "Do I have to fire Mr. Vaziri?" "No, no, that's not..." "What's that?" "Oh, I had a brilliant idea." "You always have a brilliant idea." "Thank you." "This is about our vacation." "Oh, great, our vacation." "Look at this;" "we're going to..." "Toe-Chew?" "Tho Chau." "Tho Chau." "The Gulf of Thailand?" "Oh, boy." "Tho Chau has been contested territory between Cambodia and Vietnam for centuries." "A lot of battles, massacres, mass graves, history, a fascinating adventure." "You like adventure, right?" "Sounds fascinating." "Are you just saying that to humor me?" "No." "You know what, if you're happy," "I'm happy; it's our vacation." "There's sailing, Sailing?" "and scuba diving and fishing." "Fishing?" "And..." "Look at that." "Hey, is that a beach?" "Yes, with a bar." "The local drink is called the bia hoi, and it is not monitored by any health agency." "Bia hoi?" "Bia hoi." "Toe-choe, that's what it is." "Tho Chau." "You found paradise." "Yes, paradise." "Mass graves for me and a beach with liquor for you." "Right, is there room service?" "Well, I don't know." "What's this?" "Oh, look there's a dock."