It's pouring rain. And yes, it really does look like that: the last time I was in Vegas, I landed in the pouring rain, my cab more or less floated down the Strip, and all I could think as we caromed sideways toward the Flamingo was, "This is the karmic payback for five years of jokes about the paucity of rain in Las Vegas." Consider the message got, universe.
Anyway, we soon zoom in on an institutional-looking building surrounded by a barbed-wire fence, and a sole figure hurries toward the door. We see her greeting a security guard, and within a short sequence, we've established that she's Nanette Farmer, she's a nurse, and she works for Desert State Mental Hospital. I look forward to seeing which CSI got committed -- I can't imagine any other reason why a city investigator would be poking around a state hospital.
Nanette heads inside, a task made considerably more complicated by the dozens of security procedures she must follow as she scans, punches buttons, unlocks and locks doors, et cetera. Eventually, she makes it into the nursing station so she can hang up her coat. She's the only one around, and the thunder's rumbling atmospherically. Either Nanette's got nerves of steel, or she's blessed with an underactive imagination; I'd be giving myself the willies by imagining Bruce Davison waiting around the corner to lobotomize me. Out of nowhere, another nurse says, "Some night, huh?" Aiee! I bet she lurked until just the right moment. The hardy Nanette comments that "it's ugly out there." Well, the décor isn't doing a lot to recommend the great indoors either.
Nanette begins bed check. Her first stop? The insomniac's room. He looks justifiably cranky over not being able to sleep. Her second: a baby-faced guy, fast asleep. Her third: another placidly sleeping patient. The fourth is bad news: victim Robbie Garson is on the floor, lying on his side in a pool of his own blood. Nanette rushes in to check out the damage. Ronnie's roommate Kenny is busy rocking back and forth, his hands covered in blood. He whimpers, since it's more concise than saying, "I admit it's not looking too good for me right now. But consider this: it's possible I was framed." Nanette whips out her alarm pen.
Cut to some suit telling Gil, Brass, and Sara, "We have two types of patients here: the criminally insane, and the sexually violent predators, all with multiple convictions. And all of them are Las Vegas residents too, which is why the city CSIs are investigating a murder in what is nominally a state prison. Lucky for us we found precedent in the books, what with you guys solving murders on federal property too!" The suit continues reassuring everyone: "We get all the inmates the prisons can't handle, which is why, among the CSIs, we figured the slower old guy and the skinny girl are the most capable of defending themselves physically in case of confrontation. You, gruff balding sergeant guy, will deflect them with your glower." Anyway, the suit asks Sara to remove her vest because "new uniforms upset them." How fortunate for the inmates that they didn't put Catherine on the case; otherwise we'd have an awkward moment when the director said, "Also, the inmates are upset by cleavage. Can you take those off too?"
Anyway, the hospital director guy continues to reassure the CSIs by telling them to stop and put their backs against the wall, as there's a bunch of inmates being led by. One guy decides to get acquainted by waggling his tongue at the CSIs; someone brusquely orders him to put his tongue back in his mouth. But how will he able to respond if Sara stops being disgusted long enough to say, "Hello"? Won't someone think of the inmates?