The poor guy was only 50.
They say cause of death was cardiac failure resulting from a congenital defect.
You're not gonna talk like that when we get there, right?
Like what? You know,
it's a wake, Bones. It's not a crime scene.
You know, "Hey I'm sorry for your loss."
"How are you holding up?" Stuff like that.
I know, I just don't agree with the social convention
which requires us to attend a daylong grieving ritual
simply because the deceased worked at the Jeffersonian.
Try not to say "the deceased."
It's not like any of us knew this Dr. Reilly personally.
I knew him.
It was Hank.
Hank was a prince. I talked to him just last week about Michelle.
How to get her to stop smoking.
She's smoking? She's smoking what?
Cigarettes.
I've been her legal guardian for a month
and I'm already a total failure.
She's 16. She's just trying to test you, that's all.
Maybe we should just focus on Hank.
Whoa, I think I remember him.
Curly blond hair, blue eyes, glasses...
Nope, dark hair, balding.
You don't even work at the Jeffersonian.
How do you know him?
The guy ran the best fantasy football league in DC.
Oh, man...
Oh, man, I still owe him 20 bucks.
Come to think about it, you know what, he owed me 20 bucks.
Great, how am I gonna get that back?
There are a lot people here whom I recognize.
Well, they're from work, honey.
There's Amy Valeska.
That's Hank's assistant.
Oh, she looks really upset.
Grief can be very difficult to process so, if anyone needs to talk...
That's why they have booze, Sweets.
Hank's mother over there is very rich.
Something to do with dry cleaning.
Dr. Temperance Brennan?
Yes. Hello.
Hank said you worked at the museum,
but I didn't think you'd be here.
I... I'm Barney, Hank's brother.
I'm sorry... Uh, I'm sorry for your loss.
Yeah, I'm an author.
A writer, like you.
I mean, I write thrillers.
I've read all of yours.
Ladies and gentleman,
after you take a moment with the deceased,
please join us in the family room for refreshments
Sorry, Hank...
But she's still smoking.
Go up.
Pay your respects.
I know.
Okay, Bones, you really suck at this.
You are staring way too long at this guy, okay?
People are gonna start thinking you have a thing for him.
This man was murdered.
Heart attack.
No... He had a heart attack.
No, Booth, this man was murdered.
Hank Reilly did not die from congenital heart failure.
He was murdered.
What is that?
This is whisky.
Well, it's a wake, Bones, okay?
There's drinking involved.
We should remain clear-headed so we can solve the murder.
Code word, okay?
For "murder." Okay.
I want you to say "translation," you understand?
Translation, got it? Okay.
Someone translated Dr. Reilly, and we have to find out who.
Bones, is there any chance you just feel bad about not knowing this guy like the rest of us did?
So, now you're just making it about you in saying that he was translated instead of,
I don't know, dying of natural causes?
No, there is no chance of that.
What makes you think he was translated?
Okay, the rose that his assistant placed on his chest had fallen to the side.
So, I reached in to put it back and I touched him.
Whoa, you touched him?!
Ugh! I touch dead people all the time, Booth.
I felt cracked ribs.
Left two through four.
Drink up, will you? Why?
'Cause I'm hoping you're gonna pass out.
No, Booth, we are talking about translation.
Bones, you ever think that, I don't know,
if there was evidence of foul translation,
that the coroner would have spotted it?
Yes. Fine, so, I'll tell you what.
Tomorrow morning we will go find the guy
who did the autopsy and we'll ask him questions.
No, Dr. Reilly's scheduled to be cremated this afternoon.
All the evidence will be destroyed.
We have to get an injunction so that we can examine the remains.
Now? You want me to take the body now?
Yes.
That family will be scarred for life.
Booth, the man has been translated.
Okay, fine.
Fine, fine, fine.
Triple fine, all right?
I'll call for an injunction.
In the meantime, go into the family room there
where they're doing toasts, okay?
All right, there you go.
Bones?
Put on a sad face.
No, sad.
Keep that face sad.
That's it. That's it.
I loved...
Hank Reilly.
I still love him!
And why not?
He was...
A good husband.
A good man.
The little things are what life's about.
The routine.
Hank said I should ground Michelle.
But I don't want to be the enemy.
She's only been with me for a month, you know?
Really, now?
Oh, right.
Every morning I brewed his tea for him
steeped just the amount he liked it.
What am I going to do now, in the mornings?
Without Hank?
I- I'm Jonah Amayo.
Hank and I started at the Jeffersonian at the same time.
He was head of Egyptology.
I lead the Caribbean department.
Bones, what are you doing?
Will you stop playing with the body?!
Did you get the injunction?
No, the judge turned us down.
W... why? Why? Because both the paramedics and the medical examiner
said that Reilly here died of heart failure.
No evidence of translation.
But I am contradicting them.
My record and credentials... Okay, look, the judge said
he didn't want to grant a request to an author of pulp mystery books
just because she wanted to get a little free publicity.
There, I said it.
That man is a fool.
They are not pulp.
At least he was right about,
you know, the paramedics and the medical examiner.
I will get the judge the proof he needs.
Just guard the door.
Get away from the body. Get away from the body.
Guard the door?
From what?
You undressed the deceased?
No, I didn't have to.
It was slit up the back. I just had to untuck him.
Hmm, there was no mention of this contusion in the medical examiner's report.
Meaning?
This bruise was sustained later.
Corpses don't bruise.
Whoa, wait.
So, Hank was alive after he was declared dead?
Sure looks that way.
Where did the body go after the medical examiner?
The funeral home.
For embalming.
We've got to talk to the funeral director.
Excuse me?
Hello?
You mind?
Booth! Booth!
What?
What?!
The widow and the undertaker.
What, they were dancing?
What?!
Sexual intercourse.
How am I supposed to get sexual intercourse from that?
It's very obvious. Oh, is it?
No, this is obvious.
This is my house now and I can do who I want in it.
Obvisouly.
Okay, there you go.
So, uh, you do this a lot there?
It's my job to comfort the bereaved.
Well, it is also your duty to report any damage the body sustained
during your preparation of it.
What? When did you take that?
You molested the body?
No. FBI.
Wow, FBI? You want to explain how the bruises got on that body?
The infusion of embalming fluid increases the stainability of bruises on the dermis.
A bruise not seen immediately post-mortem often presents itself post-embalming.
Okay, is it good enough for you?
What about the rib breaks?
Rib breaks and sternum cracks,
which I noted in his file,
were the result of Dr. Reilly's assistant
attempting to revive him with CPR after finding him unconscious in his office.
May I go?
I have more work to do. Right, right.
Sure, you have to go take care of his mother now, too?
So, you still think he was translated?
Those are not the ribs that would break during CPR.
Maybe she was just bad at resuscitation.
No, Booth, this is translation.
We need to do a full examination of the body at the lab.
But we do not have an injunction.
This is a sad day for all of us,
but I think it's important that we remember
what we loved about Hank, you know?
His sense of humor, of course.
He was always quick with a joke, good or bad.
Usually bad.
But he...
Oh, my God!
my
God, Hank.
Hank is... Hank... Hank is...
He's leaving us.
Where is he going from here?
Who knows? Oh.
But, uh, uh...
Oh... God... Hank.
It's not fair, you know?
You live life, and we... we... we die.
And we don't... we don't love enough, and... and
I... I got to not do that anymore
'cause I'm... I... I... I need to live and-and love,
and...
Thank you.
Come on... Hurry up, Bones.
Why are you telling me to hurry up?
Just hurry up. Walk with me, okay...?
Your Sequoia was, uh... it was blocked
so I grabbed Angela's Matrix.
Is there enough room? It'll be fine. There's lots of room.
Here we go, in the car. I got him.
Let me just get this stiff in here.
Oh, shouldn't we lie him down? No, no.
You get stopped, you got a corpse.
This way, he just looks drunk.
Okay.
One, two, three. Get the legs in. There we go.
All right, grab the seatbelt, lock him in.
Oh, watch it, Bones. Watch the...
Wrap him in there, Bones.
He looks comfy.
Okay, you got him. Okay, all right.
See you later. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Aren't you coming with us?
No, I can't. I got to make sure no one looks in the casket.
Okay? Go. Go, go, go, go, go! Go!
Drive! Go! What are you waiting for? Go! Go!
Go, go. Go, go, go!
Hey, what... what's going on?
What... what... what do you mean?
Your toast?
The word "loony" comes to mind.
I was moved, and, you know, um, emotional.
Mm-hmm. Tell me what's going on, Jack.
I thought his toast was wonderful.
See? I was just wonderful. That's all.
We don't love each other enough in this world.
At least we don't say it enough.
You spoke from the heart.
You know, they should really make an announcement about this whisky being 150 proof.
Amy, you were Dr. Reilly's intern, right?
Graduate assistant, yes. It must have been
awful when you found him lying on the office floor.
Hodgins!
Was he complaining of chest pains?
Hodgins, what are you, possessed by Brennan?
He was fine all morning.
When he left for lunch,
I said, "Have a nice lunch," and he said, "Thank you. You, too."
So, you didn't go to lunch together?
No, no. He had a lunch meeting.
Sushi. I hate sushi.
I've heard that the mercury in raw fish can make you stupid.
Mm, yeah.
Uh, who was his lunch meeting with?
He wouldn't say.
I yelled for help, called 911,
and tried to get him breathing again until the paramedics got there.
Oh. Oh, okay.
Okay.
Okay, all right.
Thank you.
I'm going to go freshen up now.
Okay.
Booth just told me Brennan thinks Hank was murdered,
so he helped her steal the body so Cam could take it back
to the Jeffersonian to have a look.
Hey, you stole the body?
No, no, no, no, we didn't steal it.
You see, we... we borrowed it, okay?
Cam and Bones think he was translated.
What? Translated.
It's code for "murder."
That's how we're saying it today: translated.
O- Okay, what if somebody looks in the coffin?
That's exactly why I'm here.
Oh, hi, Mrs. Reilly.
Uh, would you excuse me, please?
I... I have a few private things
to say to my son before he's cremated.
That's really not a great idea right now, ma'am.
Why?
Well, there's a...
The... the fact is, um, the undertaker...
uh, he didn't graduate at the top of his class, so...
But I just saw Hank earlier.
Yes. Yes, you did,
um, but the... the putty that they use
to fill in the face has sort of... melted,
and, um, his nose is sort of going to the side.
Uh, and his hair is like Hitler.
Hitler.
Hitler?
Listen, I really think it would be best
if you let Mr. Tung fix him up before you see your son.
There you are.
Oh, turn around, Barney.
We can't see Hank, not like this.
Like what?
Like Hitler.
What?
Well, please. We're going. Now.
Are there people drinking?
These fractures were definitely not caused by CPR.
These breaks are more randomly located,
and suggest a sharper impact than a hard push.
Yes. He was stabbed.
You can see the entry wounds hidden behind trocar buttons.
13 in total.
Each one sealing up a cutaneous puncture site,
each one caused by a weapon three-eighths of an inch in diameter.
Most likely...
this: standard medical trocar,
used in arterial embalming.
Could it just be a poor job of embalming?
Impossible. Over half of these are nowhere near a vein.
Hank was stabbed seven times with a trocar while he was still alive.
So, Hank Reilly had a heart attack,
was declared dead by the paramedics and the medical examiner,
and then sent to an undertaker...
Where he was stabbed to death.
You see, what I have here, Franklin, is a real-time
video link to the Jeffersonian forensic lab.
Huh? So, say hi.
Hello. I'm Dr. Camille Saroyan.
I'm not sure we met.
That's Mr. Reilly!
Why did you hide all these stab wounds?
It's my job to make the body presentable.
I did my job. I did my job. I did my job!
Okay, Mr. Tung, what we need to know is who stabbed Hank Reilly?
I did!
It was me.
You stabbed a corpse?
It's crazy.
This whole thing is totally crazy.
Maybe I'm crazy.
I did acid in high school,
and it's probably why I'm not a doctor.
Okay, listen. Just relax.
Just tell me what happened, okay?
It was late.
Everyone had gone home, and the body had just come in.
I had cleaned and disinfected him, and was about
to administer the pre-injection to flush his veins
before I began the arterial embalming.
I went in through the right femoral artery.
And suddenly,
His eyes opened.
His body jerks up and spasms.
You panicked and stabbed him?
It was a reflex. I...
Have you seen those mbie movies?
They can really warp you.
Okay, you watched zombie movies on acid?
I was scared.
I get it.
Sometimes I'm here in the middle of the night,
and I swear I see one of these bodies move.
Let me just say, I totally get that.
Okay, guys, listen, was Hank Reilly dead or alive?
It wasn't a full autopsy.
No need, because he was declared dead by the hospital.
Cause seemed reasonable, so the ME just signed off on it.
Can I go? No.
You can't go.
Listen, Cam, how is it that a guy can appear dead to two sets of medical professionals?
There are several forms of paralysis which mimic death.
Embalming would have destroyed any trace of paralytic toxins in his system.
Except...
A trace amount of the toxin may still be found in the vitreous humor of the eye.
All right, let's go.
You can go. Come on, out.
Vitreous humor tests positive for tetrodotoxin.
One hundred times more lethal than potassium cyanide.
Naturally occurring.
But he wasn't dead.
Yet. That occurs anywhere from 20 minutes to eight hours after ingestion.
Until then, heart and respiratory rates mimic death.
Tung hits a nerve while tapping the femoral,
Reilly bolts up, still in a coma.
And Franklin Tung stabs and kills him.
But somebody else poisoned him first.
Hank Reilly was in a paralytic state mimicking death
when Franklin Tung inserted the trocar,
causing Hank Reilly to spasm in such a way
that he actually sat up on the embalming table.
Ah, so technically,
Franklin Tung committed manslaughter,
while somebody else committed attempted murder?
What did you find at the lab?
Tetrus hydrogen. Tetrodotoxin.
That's what I said!
Tetrodotoxin does have limited medical uses as a treatment for some cardiac arrhythmias.
Hank had a congenital heart condition.
So is this tetrahockalin thing common?
Tetrodotoxin. Tetrodotoxin.
That's what I said.
It's a controlled substance.
Angela, maybe you could access the FDC database,
see if Hank was ever prescribed tetrodotoxin.
I need a computer. Use mine.
Come on, in the car. Come on. Come on. Come on. Okay.
Anybody comes in here, do not let them look in that casket.
Do you understand? All right?
So, while I'm in here,
you mind if I erase a few parking tickets?
No, I'll tell you what. You know, I'm not gonna relax
until we get Hank's body back in that casket.
All right? Here's something.
What?
Three milligrams of tetrodotoxin was delivered to the Jeffersonian three weeks ago.
Wait a second.
Hank had his heart medicine delivered to work?
Uh, no. It wasn't Hank.
Delivery was accepted by Dr. Jonah Amayo in Caribbean Studies.
Oh, Dr. Amayo, I'd like you to meet my associate,
Seeley Booth. I'm aware, Dr. Brennan.
The two of you are fairly well known.
Right. Dr. Brennan tells me the Jeffersonian is shutting down your department after this quarter.
I'm sure you've heard of this thing called the economy
which is in another thing called the toilet.
You were going to have to report to Hank Reilly?
Until he died, and everything went back to normal.
You think I'm happy Hank died?
He was my best friend.
Why did you order three milligrams of tetrodotoxin?
Why are you interrogating me?
I work with the FBI.
See, that's what I do.
Hey, where have you guys been?
Not now, Sweets, please.
Your field is the anthropological study of Caribbean culture.
How does a Class 1 neurotoxin assist with that? Oh, I got it!
Uh, neurotoxins are widely believed to cause
the trance state in reported cases of Haitian zombism.
Am I right?
I'm right, right?
Zombies? There are no such things as zombies; just an island superstition.
And now you've managed to insult an entire culture and their belief system.
She does that to everyone.
Dr. Amayo's work in voodoo and Santeria is fascinating.
And a little scary.
You, you people need to work on your small talk skills.
Excuse me.
Whoa, what was that all about?
Fugu.
That's really not very nice.
Tetrodotoxin is biologically derived from tetraodontidae.
Puffer fish.
So... what?
It's a Japanese
delicacy known as "fugu."
Hank Reilly had sushi for lunch at a place called Sushi Momo.
King of the Funeral!
Right.
There.
So, nobody looks inside the casket.
Okay, Mr. Tung?
How do I do that?
Just, um...
Well, Bones, how does he do that?
Say someone enters and desires
to gaze upon the visage of their dead relative one more time
in a vain effort to say goodbye to someone who can neither see
nor hear them because there's no such thing as a soul or spirit.
Bones, Bones, Bones,
just give him a reason not to show the body.
"We are encountering fluid seepage at the moment
and the body is not available for viewing just now."
I would never phrase it that way.
I know, it's perfect! It's so gross!
Brennan.
I'm done.
I'm going to need some transport for me and my friend.
What friend?
I meant Hank.
I was being oblique.
Right after we get back from sushi.
"Sushi"? You're going for sushi?! Bones!
So do you serve puffer fish?
Fugu. Blowfish?
No, we aren't licensed.
We're investigating a tetrodotoxin poisoning. Fugu.
We do not serve fugu. I promise.
Did someone die who ate at my restaurant?
Dr. Hank Reilly.
Hank? He just had lunch with us the other day.
Do you know who he ate lunch with? It was a woman.
She told him something, and he got very upset.
Can you tell us anything else about her? Not really.
She had a haircut like Cleopatra.
Excuse me.
I'm, uh, I'm looking for my friends.
I apologize,
but we are encountering some slight fluid seepage at the moment,
and the body will not be available for viewing just now.
Sir...
I'm a trained psychologist.
And you're obviously under a lot of strain.
You might say that.
You know, dealing with grief and loss every day can take its toll.
You have no idea. In some cases,
one might even take responsibility for the death,
as if it were their own fault.
Are you messing with me?
No. No, no. I'm just saying I understand.
Human behavior can surprise us all.
You might think that you have everything under control,
and then, boom,
blindsided by the unknown.
Totally. It's perfectly natural.
Okay, you have absolutely nothing to feel guilty about.
Thank you.
Thank you. Thank you.
Were you very close to the deceased?
Yeah, but...
I'm a lot closer to his wife.
We'll be there as soon as we can.
Everybody was all "Hurry up, Cam."
Now, I'm twiddling my thumbs here with a stolen body.
I can't lug him back on my own.
We'll come and get you right after we talk to Cleopatra.
Have you seen the woman that looks like Cleopatra?
What's going on? Hmm?
What's... I sense that you two are holding something back.
Yes. Yes.
You are.
Okay, we stole Hank's body in order to confirm
that he was murdered... translated. Translated.
You're totally yanking my chain. No.
The undertaker stabbed him.
Wait, the same undertaker that's been telling everyone that the body's been leaking? Mm-hmm.
Okay, I may have told him that murder's nothing to worry about.
I didn't... I didn't know. Oh, that's great.
You know what? If you want to help out,
go find Hodgins, bring him back to the lab,
get the body and bring it back into the casket without anyone noticing it.
Wait. What?!
Why? So that
the poisoner doesn't figure out what we're up to and run away.
There's a poisoner and a stabber?
Shh! Shh! Stop.
Shut up! Shh! Sorry. I'm sorry.
All right? Stop.
I'm sorry.
Go.
Can you get lost? Why?
I can be devastatingly charming if you aren't watching me.
Okay.
We haven't really met.
I don't know too many people here.
I'm Erin Miller. Hey, Seeley Booth.
I'm the Reilly family's estate lawyer. Oh...
Right, right. You mind?
Sure.
You had lunch with Hank the day that he died.
That must have been terrible.
Yeah. It was terrible.
It wasn't a very pleasant lunch.
You guys argued?
Yeah, but, you know, not personally.
Lawyer stuff.
I can't really discuss it.
No, no, of course not.
But you do know that, uh, professional arguments
don't count in a situation like this.
They don't? No.
If it was just business,
there's nothing to be guilty about.
Hank would totally understand.
Well, thank you, Mr. Booth.
You're welcome.
Wow. He's really dead.
That happens here in the autopsy room.
Hey, bud, someday you'll have your last lunch, too. Yeah, but the thing is,
they don't usually look like people
after you get your hands on them.
Thank you so much.
Okay, ready?
One, two, three.
By the way, Hank wasn't killed by his lunch.
What? Wait, it wasn't the fugu in his handroll? No.
Toxin slowed his digestion,
and the remains were well preserved by the formaldehyde and ethanol.
Tuna, salmon, yellowtail, and eel cut roll.
Really?
What did he have for breakfast?
His wife said Hank didn't eat breakfast, just a cup of tea.
Well, I did find some stray tea leaves.
His strainer must not have worked very well.
He still has a face.
He's smiling.
A bit too much, maybe.
Hey, I'm a pathologist, not an undertaker.
I did the best I could.
Adjust his smile. Be my guest.
If there wasn't any sign of poison in the food in his stomach,
then it had to have come from his morning tea.
Probably the best way to deliver poison.
See, Cleopatra there is the, uh, family estate lawyer.
She handles the mother's will. She argued with Hank Reilly at his last lunch. Mm-hmm.
Business.
My guess: problems with the will.
Oh, you mean, because the old lady is so close to death?
Yeah, it's not the nicest way of putting it, Bones, but yeah.
Well, look at her, Booth.
It's amazing that she can still stand.
There are two heirs to the money when she dies.
There's Hank and his brother, Barney.
Oh, do you think Barney killed Hank?
Why don't you go ask him? Why?
Is it because I'm an attractive and sexy, young woman who will loosen his tongue?
Oh, definitely, of course there's that.
But also, he wants you to publish his book.
Go ahead.
What a lovely voice you have, Dr. Brennan.
Yes, I know.
Please call me Temperance.
So, um...
tell me about your book.
Well, Temperance, uh...
the latest one is called Dark Tactical.
A real nail-biter.
A deadly game of cat-and-mouse between two SWAT guys.
One's good; the other isn't.
Does that sound like something you'd be interested in presenting to your publisher?
No.
Too edgy, huh?
The concept is contrived and tired.
That's what my publisher would say,
but in reality, it's...
Too edgy? Too... yes.
Perhaps you should publish your novel yourself?
Well, I can't afford that.
You have an inheritance coming.
Well, that's true.
The whole thing, too.
You mean instead of splitting it with Hank?
Splitting it? Oh, you mean in half?
No way. Me and Hank were stepbrothers.
Hardly any of it was coming to me.
90% was going to Hank and Helen.
Nothing Mom could do about it either.
What about now?
Well, half to Helen, half to me.
I can publish my book.
To Hank Reilly.
Admit it.
Just admit it! Helen, please.
Stop this. Don't you call me "Helen," you little tramp.
I am Mrs. Reilly to you.
Mrs. Hank Reilly. Please.
Hank is gone. I know he's gone!
He was my husband!
Which is why I am Mrs. Hank's Reilly,
and you are Mr. Hank's skank.
Then show him some respect for once in your life!
What is going on? Just normal funeral stuff.
Oh, so you respected my husband, is that it?
Of course I respected him. I see.
And exactly how many times a week did you respect him?
This is not the time nor the place, Helen.
Get out of my house.
Go back to your one-bedroom brothel and die.
Okay. Come on. Come on. Come on.
Oh, okay.
Give me his legs.
Okay. Okay.
Ready? Yeah.
Down, down. Shh, shh, shh.
Can you do this without me?
What? Why? Yeah, he'll help you.
You were nothing to him.
Then why did he want to make love to me and not you?
Hank, you are my hero.
Hey, how about a little help here?
Seriously, you really want to watch them fight?
Hey, hold it, hey, hey!
Come on, easy. Hold it! Hold it!
Hold it.
Do you think this is the way Hank would want to see his wake end? No.
This isn't about you or you or you or you.
This is about him. It's about Hank.
You think he'd want to see this?
I'm pretty sure he would,
especially if they were in Jell-O.
He wouldn't want to see us fight.
He'd want us to...
sing.
Hank.
Only loose tea, no bags.
No bags.
Cam found loose tea leaves in the stomach contents.
Here's another one.
Malty Orange Assam.
Throw it in there.
We'll test it for the fugu poison.
Sing it, brother.
Sing it. Hey, hey!
Okay.
Hank Reilly was killed by a cup of tea.
Do you think he's smiling too much?
I think he just looks like he's enjoying the party.
His funeral?
Where are his glasses?
He wore glasses? Oh, God.
Before I leave, could I say a little something to Hank now?
Yeah, sure. Step right on up.
He looks...
happy.
You did a wonderful job.
Thank you.
How should I know what kind of tea Hank drank that morning?
You said you brewed it for him every day, part of your routine.
That was in the eulogy speech.
No one tells the truth in a eulogy speech.
All right, well, then who did make his tea?
Hank did it himself.
The water had to be the perfect temperature.
Hank was very particular about his tea.
If there's nothing else, I'm exhausted.
His wife was cheating on him.
He cheated on her.
The assistant is still in play.
What about the lawyer?
Oh, she seemed very nice.
Yeah, all right.
So we are far from an arrest here.
Understand, people?
Well, at least we got Franklin Tung. He didn't mean to kill anyone.
That's the... Cam?
You here? What?
I'm sorry.
This smoking thing with Michele...
How do people be parents? Do you ever think
that this is her way of trying to stop you from smoking?
No... Cam doesn't smoke, right?
You stop, she'll stop.
It's that simple.
Plus, you know what? She's doing you a favor.
Great, so I go from a smoking issue to a chocolate cake and ice cream issue?
You know what?
You just... you give your best shot and that's all.
Nobody knows about the poison in the tea except us, right?
The murderer does.
When crops failed,
the ancient Pothigai in southern India believed
that one of them might be possessed by an evil spirit.
They would find out which one by passing around a poison
which would kill only demons.
The person who refused to drink the poison was proven possessed.
Okay, is this another way to get me to quit smoking?
Because it's done.
I quit. You know what?
You are a genius, Bones.
Absolute genius! I know.
And though the human remains of Henry Reilly will not physically rest here,
his soul will remain with the generations of his family here
and in heaven.
Oh, I'd like to add something.
I missed my chance at the wake.
I'd like to make up for it.
No objections from the family?
Hank Reilly specialized in Egyptian embalming rituals and practices.
He was an expert in grieving.
Hank would appreciate nothing more than the most common of funerary practices:
the raising of a glass.
It's not alcohol,
but an even more ancient drink: tea.
Hank's greatest passion, aside from sex.
I took the liberty of bringing this tea from Hank's personal stash.
The same tea he drank on his last day with all of us.
I can think of no better way of saying "adieu"
than to share one last cup of tea with Hank.
To Hank.
No!
Jeez, Mom, watch what you're doing!
You poisoned your own son?
What?
Mom, what's going on?
He wasn't my son.
It wasn't fair of your father.
He work it so you got nothing.
He got everything.
You killed Hank?
Oh, this is my fault.
Oh, God. This is why I hate funerals.
Oh, this is why I love them.
I told Hank that Annie was trying to get around the will by siphoning
money into a separate trust for Barney.
But it was illegal.
If you'd kept your nosy trap shut,
Hank would still be alive.
Bob, this is all your fault.
You brought this on yourself.
Do what you're going to do.
What's the worst that could happen?
Oh, Mom, Mom, Mom...
One thing for sure, Barney, your mother loved you.
She used her own heart medicine to kill your brother,
so you would get your fair share.
She mixed it in his tea.
And she died because she ran out of her medicine killing him.
Oh, Ma...
I would've done fine.
Hank, I didn't want the money this way.
I know you would have done right by me. Bones, don't.
I know it. Bones...
Would you excuse me, please?
Of course.
Why? He wants to be alone with his mother and brother.
By that way of thinking, he wants to be alone
with every person who has ever died.
If I die, I want you to do me a favor. Well, you will die, Booth.
It's inevitable.
All right, whatever, Bones.
When I inevitably drop dead before you,
I'd like you to come out and, you know, spend some time
and talk to me every once in a while.
Well, I'll feel foolish knowing that you can't hear me.
Promise me.
I promise. Hey!
There you go, huh?
Hey, you agreed.
I didn't think you would agree.
Now, why did you agree?
I believe that if I pretended you were still here,
I'd feel better for a moment.
Also, speaking to you would require me to figuratively
look at myself through your eyes, again temporarily.
And I think that would make me live my life more successfully.
Hmm, you know what, Bones?
That is the best thing that anyone has ever said about me.
I'll say it at your wake.
Oh, it's raining now. Come on.
Get on, umbrella. It's raining.
Just make sure when they put me in the ground, I'm dead.
Yeah, no problem. All right?
Maybe, you know, leave my body out for a few hours
and check on me every once in a while.
I'd rather refrigerate you, or else you'd start to smell.