Previously on C.S.I.: there is no previously this week; CBS has given us enough credit to remember what goes on from week to week. I will say, however, that I did see the last ten minutes of The Fugitive since my VCR taped it, and keckler has my sincerest sympathies.
We open on a close-up of a clutch of little clay rabbits peacefully grazing next to a mailbox. As we hear the soft swish of the sprinkler system, the door creaks open and a teenaged girl runs out. She screams, "Please! Help me! Somebody help me!" and the camera pulls back from the silent rabbits to the screaming girl. All of a sudden, one of Homicide: Life on the Street's cameramen comes out of retirement and starts pulling shaky close-up shots of the girl as she howls and runs toward a neighbor's house. I wonder if perhaps Reed Diamond or some other unemployed Homicide actor -- I understand Kyle Secor's out of a job as of now -- will guest star as a detective. Do I dare dream? With my luck, it'll be Jon Seda.
Anyway, before we get into the investigation, let's find out about the crime. The teen scream queen -- who is really working that Method technique of putting pure terror into every ululating vowel -- runs toward another house and the windows gradually light up as the neighbors finish having this fight:
"I'm not going to get involved. It's those crazy kids!"
"Turn on the light! Do the words 'Kitty Genovese' mean anything to you?"
In the next scene, the rabbits and the house they belong to have been wrapped in crime scene tape. Some buzz-cut detective greets Gil as he walks toward the house, and warns him that the press will be all over the case. Gil asks if the count has changed since he was called. "No," answers Inspector Exposition. "Mother, father, two teenage boys. The sisters were right up here. The teen girl" -- and here we flash to the scream queen, wrapped in a blanket and talking to two detectives -- "heard a noise and hid in the closet. The younger sister's over there." The camera pans over to a creepy-looking little blonde girl huddled on the driver seat of a police cruiser. Naturally, she's unsupervised, all the better for etching an indelible and traumatic picture in her head.
Gil glares at the kindergartner suspiciously, and Inspector Exposition says, "They couldn't have killed that family tag-team." Gil turns to look at the house, just in time to see a young cop rush out the front door and vomit into a nearby privet hedge. "What's the matter with your guys?" he asks. "They've been inside," Inspector Exposition answers. Gil, whose stomach is made of sterner stuff, takes that as his cue to march right in.