Mills wakes up next to Gwyneth Paltrow. She needs her beauty rest, so he quietly gets up and has coffee and sits next to the phone to answer it as soon as it rings.
Ring-a-ding-ding: it's Somerset telling Mills where to meet him.
Mills shows up first, with a coffee for Somerset, but Somerset takes his coffee like he takes his men—he doesn't take the coffee.
Mills makes a bad impression with the responding offer, implying that the victim might not actually be dead.
Somerset reprimands him for being so condescending to the cop.
Because the crime scenes just have to get nastier, this scene is swarming with cockroaches, and the victim is the size of three Jabba the Hutts (Jabbas the Hutt?) put together, dead face-first in a pile of spaghetti.
His hands and feet are tied under the table. Also under the table: a bucket full of puke. Yum.
Somerset sends Mills away to help the officers question the neighbors. Hotshot isn't too happy with the order, but he complies.
Forensics shows up and confirms that the big guy is, in fact, dead. We're guessing the cause of death is way too many SpaghettiOs.