I'm sure all of you are like, "What...? Where are the obtuse comments and snide asides? I don't read these things to get my daily dose of sweetness and light." So back to the recap we go. Catherine's busy in the waiting room when Brass comes by to tell her that the kid in the Camaro didn't make it. The "kid," incidentally, is thirty-two. His name is Eric Kevlin and he was a resident at the UCLA Medical Center; he was apparently driving to Vegas to surprise his girlfriend. Surprise her how? With his superior time-management skills? I thought the whole point to being a medical resident was some sort of highly-educated indentured servitude -- it's supposed to be all sleep deprivation and doctoring and whatnot. None of these spontaneous road trips to Vegas! Bah! Brass and Catherine talk about something they find curious: apparently Kevlin signed a pre-op Do Not Resuscitate order (DNR). Brass is all, "That doesn't make sense for a young person." Actually, it makes perfect sense for anyone, regardless of age. I signed a living will with a standing DNR the moment I turned eighteen, and everyone in my family knows it. I can understand where a doctor would be especially adamant about one: he'd be in a position to see the long-term effects of a persistent vegetative state on the human body, he'd have seen the immense financial strain precipitated by long-term medical care for those in a persistent vegetative state, and he'd have seen people grappling with the decisions to be made when someone they cared for faced spending the rest of their lives comatose on a respirator versus dying. Signing a DNR short-circuits those probable outcomes, and some people prefer it that way. Now if I can figure this out, why can't Brass and Catherine?
Warrick is at the bus company garage, talking to Maddox. Maddox is pointing out that the company had a perfect safety record. "Until last night," Warrick replies. Maddox rebuts that in any transit business, accidents are inevitable. He does not add, "But, I assure you, we do everything possible to reduce their statistical probability." Anyway, Maddox is all, "Accidents are inevitable," and Gil pops into the frame to say, "Criminal acts, however, are not." This immediately puts Maddox on the defensive: "I've got a family. Sometimes they ride my buses. I don't take a chance with their lives or anybody else's. I screen all my drivers, zero tolerance for drugs or alcohol, I keep strict maintenance records, vehicle inspection every forty-five days as required by law. You're not going to find anything criminal here." Gil begs to differ, handing over the sheared bolt and drawling, "I believe this belong to you." Maddox inspects it, saying, "Bolt, grade eight, sheared. That doesn't happen." Gil contradicts him yet again. Warrick steps in and says they have many questions, all of which spring from observing that the suspension didn't hold. His Small Businessman's Righteous Wrath undercut by the implacable stares of Gil and Warrick, Maddox says that he buys all his parts from reputable vendors. Gil and Warrick aren't interested in all the parts -- just the ones that broke, i.e. the bolts. Maddox supplies, "Brillway Bolt Company. I just switched...they were low bid." His face falls as he realizes how his decision affected the bus accident. Warrick piles on the guilt with, "The consequences of saving a buck." This is like the anti-10-10-220 commercial. Maddox grounds the fleet, presumably to remove all the faulty bolts.