Later, Conehead brings Martin some files, and asks if she can stay and take him "through the chain of evidence." Martin glares at her. "I think I've done this before," he snips. She tip-taps off in her Manolo Blahniks. As she leaves, Baby Eugene sweeps up, and asks Martin if he's "looking for loopholes." Martin ignores him. Baby Eugene hassles him, telling him he better pray he can find that one little technicality that can get him off the hook. "I am not looking for technicalities," Martin says solemnly. "I am looking for the truth." Baby Eugene bursts into peals of laughter. "You better stick to technicalities," he chortles. "The truth is going to keep you in here, and make you somebody's bitch! So put on that engineering cap, Casey Jones, because that's a whole lot of trains you gonna be pulling!" He cackles and choo-choos down the hallway. Because it ain't a prison drama without some good, old fashioned anal rape jokes. I could not sympathize with Megyn and Djb more than I do right now.
Martin keeps going through the files. As he looks at the crime-scene photos, he has a handy-dandy little flashback, involving -- yes -- breaking glass, blood, a knife, the beads, and, this time, a hand. With a tattoo. Of a spider web. "I know who did it," Martin whispers to himself. I'm thinking maybe Martin ought to call OJ and offer his helpful psychic wife-killer-finding abilities.