It's daylight by the time Vanessa's finally hauled from the drink. Sara comments that the bystanders rarely disperse before the body's taken away, and Liam the Erstwhile Lab Tech musters all the world-weariness a not-yet-certified CSI can have with, "Necrophiliac voyeurs." Sara then fishes a strappy stiletto from the fountain and Liam comments, "Hot shoes. I wonder if they'll fit -- whoops." No, he merely comments on the shoes. Sara gets all militant on him: "You think these are sexy, huh? Did you know that shoes like these put degenerative stress on the hip joints, throw off the curve of the spine, and they tilt your pelvis? Over time, women get headaches, sore backs, shortened calf muscles -- and bunions, of course." It's so cute how Sara assumes people are standing up when they're wearing those shoes. None of the yoga positions I saw in the earlier adult-content scenes demonstrated any need for vertical balancing skills. Anyway, after Sara finishes the stiletto monologues, she quizzes Liam on his assessment of the scene. He replies, "Vanessa Keaton was walking home. She'd had a few. Her feet hurt. She takes off her shoes. Dolce vita." We see her weaving around the edge of the fountain drunkenly, sans shoes, before slipping, knocking herself out on the aforementioned fountain, and falling into the water. Sara counters that there's no hair or blood on the fountain to support that theory. Liam ripostes that the running fountain washed away the evidence. Before he can get too smug over being able to defend his hypothesis, Sara attacks it from another angle: what's to say Vanessa didn't have company at the fountain? Liam is forced to admit that we don't know she didn't. Having cowed her protégé, Sara then puts him to work collecting samples from the water and from the cruel shoes.
And now, the soundtrack shifts to the whimsical, so we must be in for a comedy-laden B-plot. It starts off with Nicky and Warrick inside a commercial space being renovated. Nicky asks if Warrick's okay to drive, and Warrick snaps that he's not, what with having worked a triple, then three back-to-back crime scenes. One might wonder what he's doing now working his fifth crime of the shift. Recognizing that there's no plausible way to get Captain Exposition on the scene -- his superpowers are limited to explaining background information, and therefore flying and teleportation are out of the question -- the writers invent a new way to fill us in quickly: by having one CSI ask another to run the likely crime scene. It's Nicky's turn to tell us a story: "Landlord's working late, trying to fix up the place for the new tenant, kicking up dust, paint fumes. Door's open for ventilation, killer strolls in, the next thing you know, landlord's deli meat." We flash back to the random act of table-sawing. Warrick muses that the eviction notice means there was no cash on the premises, so robbery's not a plausible motive. Off-screen, Det. Cavaliere's running down the ex-tenants, Melissa and Charlie. On-screen, the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man has just invaded the crime scene. Today would be the day Warrick and Nicky leave their proton packs at home. Actually, it's some blowhard berating Warrick and Nicky for not having solved the crime in four hours; it turns out he's here to do cleanup. Warrick chortles, "Blood bucket brigade!" and Stay-Puft sniffs, "I prefer 'bio-recovery services.'" Nicky muses, "Funny, I don't see an American Bio-recovery badge." Stay-Puft bloviates that all you need are "a strong stomach, a working knowledge of solvents, a little sensitivity, a little tact -- whoa! Man! There must be three quarts of blood [on the wall]." It's funny 'cause it's situational irony, you see. Like the black flies on your wedding day and the old man with the ten thousand spoons on the smoking break. Or something along those lines. There's some more talky-talky to establish that Marty the cleanup guy is a colossal pain in the ass, and Warrick boots him shortly after we learn that the grieving wife managed to pull it together long enough to retain Marty's services. And the strings of whimsy play on. It's going to be a long subplot.