Meanwhile, Ecklie's bumped up against the crime scene tape, trying to mend fences with Catherine: "Look, it's not that I think you're an incompetent hussy --" Oh, wait. That's the subtext talking again. It gets louder all the time, as per Catherine's "I smell crap." Even Ecklie looks startled at this incursion of the subtext, and asks "What?" Catherine orders him not to take another step. What do you know -- there's crap on the sidewalk. Since the Eigers have neither children nor pets, the real mystery is where the fecal matter came from. Catherine bags and tags it, then gets all subtext-y again with, "I saved you from putting your foot in it." Ecklie smiles tightly and tells her, "I appreciate that."

Up on the balcony, Nicky's finished getting Catherine's attention with "What supervisor art thou, that, thus bescreened in night / So stumblest on my counsel?" He's got Bruce's launch point. Catherine puts down her digital camera -- since God knows she'd never want to take pictures of the launch point or anything, and it would only drag her down as she attempts to scale the summit of Mount Mansion there -- and heads upstairs.

Sara's still working the ground. She looks at an oily stain on the driveway and explains to Grasshopper, Gil's Adopted Son Number Three that the rich aren't like you and I -- their cars run on chocolate, and pixies immediately lap up all unsightly stains. Or something along those lines. The point is, there's oil on the driveway and Gil's just told his flunkies to swab it and compare the oil against whatever nation's reserves the Eigers drained to lubricate their fleet of cars.

Catherine's finally made the arduous trek upstairs. She promptly places a call to Jon Krakauer asking if he's interested in writing Into Even Thinner Air. And then she wanders onto the balcony, where Nicky tells her, "Whatever happened, it happened right here. Planter could have been broken during a struggle, or been used as leverage." Catherine points out that anyone who pushed Bruce over the railing will be toting their own set of massive muscles. Warrick points out the prints on the wide balcony railing, and says he doubts they're Bruce's. Nicky wonders, "Maybe the killer hung out enjoying the fruits of his labor?"