Ah, suburbia. We're in a housing development that goes beyond "prefabricated" and into "cloned." As a thin, balding plumber navigates a dry and roomy crawl space, a strident female voice screams, "What's taking so long? I just wanted you to fix the leak!" I briefly entertain the hope that perhaps the plumber will thrust his hand through the floor Carrie-style and kill this harridan, but I suspect this is just so much backstory leading up to the inevitable moment where some civilian discovers a body. Still, if that woman is so adamant about how she wants the plumber to use his time, then maybe she should have been more specific about what was leaking and where. Few plumbers are psychic; they're not going to crawl under a house, commune with an i-beam, and instantly know where the leak is. Granted, for $90/hour, they should be, but you just can't have it all.
Good Lord, I've digressed and we haven't even hit the credits yet. Back to the show!
The plumber continues his crawling, as he shines his flashlight on a concrete berm, he mutters, "I've found something." The camera glides along the path of the beam to rest on his discovery -- four spidery, mummified human fingers sticking out of the concrete.
Cut to night. The entire house has been taped off, a process I sincerely regret missing since I would have liked to have seen how the harridan in Scene I reacted to the news of a body in her basement. Nicky's wearing a dorky blue jumpsuit and pulling a toolbox out of the CSI van. He crouches by a crawl space and radios, "Okay, I'm ready up here." "Hang on a minute," replies Gil, and the scene switches to him belly-crawling in what looks to be a considerably darker and cobwebbier crawl space. Fortunately for Gil, he doesn't share my claustrophobia; in fact, he looks downright ecstatic. Oh, that Gil -- overjoyed by the idea of bodies moldering undetected in cramped and dingy places. Gil shines the flashlight from his hardhat onto the hand and identifies the hand as definitely human based on the metacarpals and phalanges. He then joins Nick outside; Nick has been passing the time by staring at the house's foundation and muttering, "There's got to be a better way." Not according to Gil: "When a body decomposes in concrete, it leaves an air pocket, vacuum sealed. We do this right, it will open like a jar of pickles." I can appreciate the use of metaphor as a teaching device as much as the next person, but Gil's colorful lectures have a way of putting one off one's food. Nicky, made of less imaginative stuff than I, buckles down to work, joining Gil in chiseling a hole in the house's foundation. The bricks fall in, and a cavity is revealed, with a set of human bones resting inside. Nicky says, "Ten bucks says they sell the house." Gil replies, "By law, you've got to disclose everything: three bedrooms, two baths, and a skeleton in the basement."