The scene shifts to an al fresco morgue -- established by having the camera rest on a crispy corpse before zooming back to show us a row of similarly singed bodies lying on autopsy tables under a canvas tent -- where Alexx (yes, two Xs -- I guess it means she's exxtra cool) the coroner is asking Horatio how they're doing for survivors. Horatio concedes that it's not looking too good. He asks how many people she's got. Alexx replies, "Four or five, depending on which pieces match." She then turns her attention to the body on the table in front of her, noting, "Injuries are consistent with catastrophic blunt force trauma." Horatio's not terribly surprised, saying, "Pretty normal for this type of crash." Alexx replies, not to Horatio but to the corpse, "Wasn't normal for you. You didn't get up this morning thinking it would be your last, did you, honey?" To Khandi Alexander's eternal credit, she manages to sell that line without any embarrassment. And to Horatio's credit, he's not too spooked by his coroner conducting small talk with the bodies: "Ask him if he knows what brought the plane down." Alexx gives Horatio a mildly amused look, glances down at the body, then looks back up at Horatio and says with vindication in her voice, "I think he just might have answered your question. Small entry wound in the upper torso." We get what looks like a nascent TMICam shot, if the TMICam in question were merely starting out, and could only muster a 10X magnification instead of the molecular-level splendor we've all come to know and love. Alexx then rolls the body over, and Horatio notes that whatever entered the body exited it as well. He then calls for Calleigh, who comes hustling over. Now is as good a time as any for me to wonder: is Emily Procter going to be the George Eads of this show? She's a lovely woman, but the Liza Minnelli makeup and Heidi-of-the-Lowlands hairdo aren't doing anything for her. Anyway, Calleigh comes over, assesses the size of the wound, and guesses that it may be a .32 or a .38. Horatio dispatches her to the fuselage to see if the probable slug is still lodged in there. "Do you think you can find it?" "Does Elvis wear a white jumpsuit?" Calleigh replies. Not if he's currently working in a McDonald's in Des Moines, as some tabloids would have us believe. Or if he's actually keeping tabs on who his little girl selects for husbands -- then, I figure, he's wearing a straitjacket somewhere. But I digress.