Back in the morgue, David the appreciative coroner is commenting that Vanessa's one of the more attractive bodies he's had on the table recently. It's nice to see him relish the little joys in life. He then philosophizes, "But beauty's skin-deep. Inside, we all look pretty much the same." Gil's in no mood for small talk; he wants to know from whence the abrasion came. David's all, "Have you no poet in you?" Gil rattles off, "'Beauty is truth, truth, beauty; that is all you know on Earth, and all you need to know' -- except cause of death." As Gil scorns knickknacks like Grecian urns (see all: Keats), so he scorns small talk. David tells us it was pulmonary edema due to drowning; all the appropriate samples have been dispatched to different parts of the lab. Although the abrasion may have knocked Vanessa out, it's the small puncture wounds on her back that have David intrigued. There are four -- small, uniform in diameter, delivered perimortem, and delivered while she wasn't wearing her dress. Ergo, she was dressed after she was stabbed. David then says,"[I] collected lubricant from the labia, which means…uh, I don't know if she had a date with her husband or herself. I sent an SAE kit to DNA. Personal observation: you don't wear La Perla to a Tupperware party." Gil is staring at the lingerie like it's a lacy extraterrestrial. David explains that it's very expensive lingerie, adding morosely, "I gave some to my wife once. She accused me of having an affair. You know -- sex on the steel." Gil now looks actively revolted.