This much is confirmed by the spunky lab tech, who will be referred to as Liamette until we are given a proper name. "The question is, who handled it?" Delko says. "Obvious answer is the owner of the houseboat, but someone could have planted it." Liamette offers an apology that she's unable to discern who used a murder weapon simply by looking at it. Delko skips off like a lovesick puppy to perform tests on the knife. This is what we in the business call a science montage. And I believe the last time I recapped one of these shows, Sobell got a lot of mail wondering why I didn't identify any of the music used during these pointless musical interludes. So in the interest of appeasing audiophile readers, let's just pretend that the song playing right now is "Monkey On My Mind" by the Ben Boychuk Trio. Ask for it wherever records and tapes are sold. After much fingerprinting and techno, Delko figures out that yes indeed, Rick Breck was the fellow who stabbed Victor Ratsch. One murder solved, two to go.
Horatio goes off to hector poor Speedle about the hit-and-run murder. Speedle reports that he's found something interesting on the phone message tape. "Okay, listen to me, we need to process the residue on the headlight," Horatio snaps, since not a scene can go by without him letting the underlings know who's boss. Speedle yeah-yeahs him, noting that he's already run the Spectras -- ah, so that's what that whole Reservatrol business was about earlier. Still doesn't making any flippin' sense. No matter -- Speedle's busy playing the audio tape for Horatio so that he too can hear those mysterious clicks. After much boring argle-bargle over what the noise can be, Horatio and Speedle move on to what was on the headlight that wound up in Amy's leg -- Reservatrol, peanut shell, hayweed...elephant dung! Time to head back to the Miami FakeZoo for a chat, methinks.
Which is exactly where we find Horatio and Nameless Cop, walking rapidly toward the white-suited PR flak -- does this man own just one suit, or is he like Al Davis and Steve Jobs with just a closet full of the same outfit? -- who we learn is named Infante. We also learn that his car is missing and that it's been that way since two nights ago -- incidentally, the same time that Amy the stripper was killed. Amy's last name is also Cannon and not Breck as I assumed, and boy, doesn't this show have a hard time introducing character names in a coherent fashion? Maybe everyone should just wear nametags. Infante pretends not to know who Amy Cannon is. Horatio enlightens him: "Amy Cannon is the peepshow dancer that was with Victor Ratsch the day he was killed." Before Horatio gets a chance to get all accusatory and self-righteous, Infante's cell phone rings. The PR flak makes the mistake of answering it. Cue the accusations and self-righteousness, as Horatio snatches the phone and hangs it up. "This is a murder investigation," huffs Horatio, apparently forgetting the numerous scenes, including one in this very episode, where he abruptly ends a conversation by answering his cell phone. The producers of this show are rapidly running out of ways to make this character unlikable. By season's end, look for him to start elbowing aside old people and slapping nuns around. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" growls Infante, who's in a rush to get as far away from this blithering ass as possible. "I'll let you know," Horatio says as Infante storms off. "Don't go far. This commercial break only lasts for four minutes." I may have added that last part.