All language subtitles for White.House.Plumbers.S01E04.WEBRip.x264-ION10=English

Saint? St. John?

Wake up, Saint!
Can I trust you?

- What's going on?
- Can I trust you?

- Uh, I...
- Just answer me!

- ♪ (OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
- You can trust me, Papa.

I fucked up.

I fucked up so-- so badly.

- Is Mom okay?
- Listen to me.

Remember, back in Mexico,
I told you I worked

- for the State Department?
- Uh-huh.

I was CIA. Station Chief
of the Mexico City office.

- What?
- I'm a spy.

A job just went FUBAR.
Top secret for the White House.

- And my people got arrested.
- How could you not tell us?

I need your help.

Things could get hairy
for me real quick.

I need you to do whatever I ask
without question.

Can I trust you?

Of course, Papa.

Good boy.

Get Windex and gloves.

Okay.

♪ (DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

Mm.

How was work?

Ooh!
Comme ci, comme ça.

There is a chance
I will be going to prison.

Wait, what?

Don't worry.

Go back to sleep.
Kids'll be up soon.

Oh, now, where are
those little soaps I got you

from the Watergate?

- They may be used as evidence.
- ♪ (MUSIC CONCLUDES) ♪

♪ (SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

Hurry!

Fuck! Squat down!

Make it look like
we're fixing a flat.

Thank you!

Get the sides, the bottom.

- Wipe down everything.
- Yes, Papa!

All over!
No prints. Keep rubbing.

Good. Wipe it all down.

- Why the typewriter?
- The less you know the better.

Okay.
Grab everything. Hurry.

Never tell anyone
that you did this,

or we're both in big trouble.

My boy. My boy, my boy.

Oh. Hotel key.

It's the little things.

Oh, we didn't wipe that down!

♪ (THEME MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

♪ (THEME MUSIC CONCLUDES) ♪

♪ (MID-TEMPO MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

Turn to your right.

Turn to your right.

-No sé. Derecho.

Derecha.

Turn to your right, please.

No sé, señor.

Turn to your right.

- Do you speak English?
- Yeah.

Turn to your right.

Gracias.
- You're welcome.

Fore!

Goddamn it.

Mr. Kleindienst?
- ♪ (DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

Hello?

I am behind
the tree to your right.

My name is Gordon Liddy.

I'm the Head Counsel

for the Committee
to Re-Elect the President.

What the hell are you doing
on my golf course?

Five men were arrested
last night at the DNC.

They were conducting
a clandestine intelligence

- gathering operation.
- I heard.

McGovern is floundering.

What kind of morons
break into the goddamn DNC?

Those men work for me.

Oh, hell.

One of the men, Jim McCord,
is Head of Security

for the Committee.
Oh, fuck.

Does Mitchell know?

I did not take over this job
just to clean up his bullshit.

Yes.

In fact, Mr. Mitchell
has a request.

If you could get McCord
released immediately,

we would be--
On what grounds?

Are you all out of your minds?

Do you have any idea
what something like this

could do to the president?

Sir, if the world finds out
that the Head of Security

for the Committee was arrested,
think about what that would do

- to the president.
- Oh, Christ.

McCord has fake ID.

But as a former FBI agent,
he has his fingerprints on file,

so it's only a matter of time
before they find out

who he is and where he works.

What the fuck
did you people think

you were doing in there?

Saving the country
from communism, sir.

The clock is ticking.

By my count, we have 48 hours
before they figure out

- who he is.
- ♪ (SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

I stake my reputation on that.

Your turn.

Come on. Oh, sí, sí.

So interesting.

Name?
- Eat shit.

- Address?
- I wanna speak to my attorney.

Phone number?

I wanna speak
with my attorney.

Okay, let's start
from the top. Name?

Look, Mr. Martin,
I'm trying to help you out.

Just tell us your real name,
or bail's gonna be

100 grand at least.

I want to have
an attorney present.

Jim?

Jimmy?

- Wait, you know this guy?
- Yeah, this is Jim McCord.

He does security
for John Mitchell.

- No. Not anymore.
- Wow, really?

- Hey there, Ted.
- Hey.

Jim McCord. Thanks, Ted.

Yeah, thanks, Ted.

Could you spell
your last name for me?

Yes, A-T-T-O-R-N-E-Y.

The perfect
French omelet is baveuse.

Now, where are the chives?

We have, uh, oranges,
pickles, oyster stew, olives,

no chives.

When do we ever
have oyster stew?

We have everything.
We have tomato juice,

but we have no goddamn chives!

- It's okay, Papa.
- So stupid.

Don't worry about it.
I don't need...

- I don't need chives.
- Okay. Fine. Fine!

It'll be fine.
It's fine without the chives.

It's fine. Um.

Okay.
You remember, my, um,

my, uh, teacher,

um, at my old school,
the one who, um--

Yes, I remember.

Well, I told Mama about it,
and then the next day,

he, uh, vanished.

Your mother told me
what had happened.

And that night, I threw two,
three guns into the car.

And your mother got scared,
called the school to warn them,

and the pervert stole off
into the night.

- Were you gonna kill him?
- Kill who?

What are you doing here?

Why aren't you dressed
and showered?

It's Saturday.
I don't go in till 3:00.

Saturday.

Right! Saturday.

I'm gonna make you an omelet.

Hunt residence.
Of course,
there's no chives.

Howard Hunt, please.
Mm-hmm.

Yep. One second. For you.

Howard Hunt here.

This is Bob Woodward
from The Washington Post.

Yes. Yes, what is it?

I was just
kind of wondering

why your name was on an envelope
found on one of the men arrested

- at the Watergate?
- Good God.

Do you care to comment?

In view that the matter
is under adjudication,

uh, I have no comment.

♪ (OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

- Wrong number.
- What? They asked for you.

I'm going to be
in my office all day.

Don't answer it!

And if anyone comes
to the house, I'm not here.

Good evening.

We have a mystery story
out of Washington.

Five people have been arrested
and charged with breaking

into the headquarters
of the Democratic
National Committee

in the middle of the night.

Among those five persons

apprehended at the Watergate
was this man.

James W. McCord,
a former CIA employee

who now owns
his own private security firm.

And guess what else he is?

A consultant
to President Richard Nixon's

re-election campaign committee.

♪ (SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

Gordon!

Morning, Jeb.

How's tricks?

Gordon, this whole thing
is exploding.

I'm getting calls from the FBI.

Why are you shredding money?

The cops found cash
with sequential serial numbers

on our guys.

Ergo, they can trace it
back to the bank and to us.

Cuban imbeciles
were supposed to use it

as bribe money.

I'm sorry,
are you shredding soap?

You have used up
your daily quota

of moronic questions,
you towel snapper.

And it is only 9:17 a.m.

You're our chief counsel!
I need to know what to do here!

Get the fuck out!

My legal advice to you
is to hire your own attorney.

Then what in the high holy fuck
are we paying you for?

Jeb...

I want you to know something.

This maelstrom of shit
we are in right now...

it's all your fault.

I have to call a lawyer.

Now, you're getting it, Dummkopf.

Oh, my God.

Mr. Hunt.
This is the FBI.

♪ (OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

Mr. Hunt.

Let's come back.

♪ (DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

Earlier today,

the White House Press Secretary,
Ron Ziegler, had this to say

about the Watergate break-in.

My remark yesterday,

regarding a third-rate burglary
attempt, related to the fact

that I wasn't gonna comment
every time someone tries

to break in somewhere,
and I'm gonna reject

every attempt in questioning
to inject this matter

into the White House.

Merci.

Bonjour, oui.

I'd like to place
an international call.

- Mama?
- Hey, honey, it's early.

Go back to sleep, okay?
Yes, I'll hold.

Were you followed?

Undoubtedly.

But I lost them.

Excellent.

Nice bomb shelter.

Thanks. It came with the house.
Hurry up!

Did you hear
that child, Ziegler?

Called it
a third-grade burglary.

Right this way.

FBI paid me
a little visit today.

- Oh! And what did you tell them?
- Well, I didn't answer the door.

I'm, uh, laying low,
playing it cool.

Do not answer that!

It's probably Dorothy,

but I just can't bring myself
to talk with her.

Good. Because your phones
are tapped by now.

Bastards.
They don't tap my phone!

I tap their goddamn phones!

That is my métier. Here.

Hmm.

How much cash do we have left?
Zero.

I shredded it.

You shredded our money?

The money was a direct link
to the Committee.

- What else could I have done?
- Well, I don't know.

Hide it, bury it, launder it.
You do not shred money!

Christ!
This is all McCord's fault.

Why did he leave that tape?

Do not panic.

We will figure this out.

I'm as cool as a polar bear's
privates, amigo.

The guy shredding money
is the one who panicked.

Let it ring!

Did you talk to Dean?
We need more money.

Shall I get that?

- Do not pick up!
- Why are you having a freak-out?

You're not strapped
for cash, are you?

Not me.

The Cubans.
They need to take care of us.

- Um, them.
- Listen to me.

Well, if you come
under pressure,

you just say

you worked for me.

'Cause I can take
whatever these SOBs

- can dish out.
- I do not work for you, Gordon.

What are you gonna say?

That you worked
for the White House?

- They better take care of us.
- They will.

Now, you and I just need
to keep our mouths shut

'til after the election.

Then Nixon can pardon us
without so much

as a second thought
and we are home free.

Nixon is a man
who values loyalty.

You're goddamn right he does.

Oh, uh, should I take
the bookcase, Dr. No,

or is there a trap door?

♪ (UPBEAT JAZZ MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

Two former White House aides

with electronic
receiving devices

were in the room

of the Watergate Hotel
on the early morning

of June 17th,
when five men with bugging gear

were found
in Democratic headquarters here

in the Watergate building.

The men are G. Gordon Liddy,

at that time counsel
to the Finance Committee

to Re-Elect the President.

And E. Howard Hunt, a former
White House consultant.

Mrs. Hunt! Mrs. Hunt!

Mrs. Hunt,
have you seen your husband?

What do you know
about the break-in at the DNC?

Mrs. Dorothy Hunt, Agent Dwyer,
Agent McNeil, FBI.

What is happening?
Kevan,
take David inside, okay?

This is
private property. Let's go.

Mrs. Hunt, we'd like a word
with your husband,

but we've been unable
to track him down.

I'm sorry, I've been in Europe.
I haven't heard from my husband.

- He could be anywhere.
- Well, if you do see him,

could you please tell him
to call us?

If I see him.

Howard!

Oh, bonjour, Kev!

How was your month in Paris?

Oh, by the way,
do not answer the phone.

W-- is Papa okay?

- Hey! Look who's here!
- Papa!

Anyone for pancakes?
Chocolate chip!

Why is the FBI here?

Oh, well, they just wanted
to ask me a few questions,

but I'm not feeling
terribly chatty.

Of course, he's a spy.

But he's not a spy!

I am.

No. Don't you-- You work
for the White House.

Think about it, Kev.
It makes so much sense.

All the lies,
all the manipulations,

all the mind games. God!

This entire time we believed
that he just wrote

- shitty spy books.
- They're not shitty.

Thank you, Saint.
That might be my best review.

So, am I getting
chocolate chip pancakes?

In a bit. First, I want a word
with your father.

Yeah, it's a disaster.

You gotta talk
to those guys in the morning.

Hmm. No, uh, tell them to talk
to Haldeman about it.

- I don't want that on my desk.
- Yeah.

- John!
- Jesus, Gordon.

Are you the action officer
in charge of damage control?

- You and I--
- Don't look at me.

Just look straight ahead.

You and I cannot be talking, Gordon.

The FBI is crawling up
our asses.

I'm in contact
with Director Gray.

We're on top of it.

- Are you?
- Hmm.

They have Felt
running the investigation.

Mark Felt was
at the first Plumbers meeting.

- You're joking.
- Oh, I wish I were.

Please tell me
this meeting didn't take place

at the White House.

I wish I could.

Okay, Gray's our guy.

He'll ride herd on Felt
and his FBI cronies.

You guys just need
to keep your mouths shut.

You need to know something.

The DNC break-in
is not the problem.

Our infiltration
into Dan Ellsberg's

psychiatrist's office
in Beverly Hills last year...

Ooh, that's the problem.

That order came
from inside the White House.

You know what?
You didn't tell me that.

Because this conversation
never happened.

How does this thing
keep finding ways to get worse?

Ehrlichman okayed it.

And worse.

Hunt and I are prepared
to take the fall,

but we expect
to be taken care of,

"company style."

Public disavowal,
private funding.

I really hope
that you understand

the scope
and scale of this thing.

How dangerous this could be
to the country,

to the president.

The Committee has a policy
that every member

must cooperate fully
with the investigation.

Therefore, I will be tendering
my resignation tomorrow.

And if the president wants...

you just tell me
what corner to stand on.

You hire a sniper
and I will take the bullet.

I am prepared to die
for this president.

Are you?

Go home, Gordon.

Get some sleep.

Name the time and the place.

Just make sure
it's a clean head shot!

Oh, I will, Gordon.

What, d'you bring back
the Eiffel Tower?

You've had a long flight.

Uh, how about I whip you up
a few fluffy flapjacks?

What's going on, Howard?

We have eggs,
we have bacon, we have, uh...

What have you done?

♪ (UPBEAT JAZZ MUSIC PLAYING
OVER RADIO) ♪

It wasn't my fault.

I tried and tried to talk them
out of going in again,

but Gordon
kept pushing and pushing,

and that idiot McCord
left the tape--

Our lives, Howard.
Our house, our kids.

This was not the deal.

It's going to be okay.
I-- I have a plan.

You take that stupid
fucking apron off.

I can't even look at you.

Okay. We, uh, we take the kids
to Florida.

We tell them we're going
to Walt Disney World.

But uh, we-- we actually
fly into Miami.

And there's that
abandoned air strip

outside of Opa-locka,
we-- we used in '61.

- Then what?
- Then, we get Somoza to send

a Nicaraguan
National Guard airplane.

And then what?

And then I do what I do.

I work
with Nicaraguan intelligence.

Uh, liaise with the Company.
Uh, it'll be like Mexico.

- You loved Mexico.
- Do you hear yourself, Howard?

Do you hear
how insane you sound?

You need a lawyer.
We need a lawyer.

No!

Somoza owes me big.

You know what we did down there.

They all owe me,
those greasy sons of bitches.

- They owe me!
- If our salvation hinges

on a tin-pot dictator's sense
of rectitude,

we are well and truly fucked, Howard.

I'll call a lawyer.

Thank you.

♪ (MUSIC CONCLUDES) ♪

Sweetheart,
bring us some coffee

and some of those yummy
Stella D'Oro cookies,

you-- you know?

- Yes, sir.
- Thank you.

Anyway, as I was saying,

this has jumped
from a misdemeanor

to multiple felonies.

Now, unless you've got
some way of proving

that the Democrats
bugged themselves...

...we have a problem, Howard.

You have
to understand something.

I have never worked
on US soil before.

When something
goes wrong overseas,

they yank you out.
They protect you.

What, then,
is your endgame here?

I don't know.
Uh, stay out of jail?

Hmm.

Liddy is meeting today
with Fred LaRue,

the president's lawyer.

You mean,
the president's bagman.

Well, I assume they will be
discussing clemency.

The president
will not forget us.

I'm not a betting man,
but the odds of a pardon,

- uh, one in a thousand.
- What kind of deal might he get?

Dot, please. I'm the client.

What kind of deal can I get?

With every passing day,
the deal gets worse.

You play ball now,

I can probably
keep you out of jail.

I am not naming names.

Let me be clear,
I am not naming names.

- No names will be named.
- So, it's a no on the names?

That doesn't leave me much
to work with.

So, what, Howard?
You're just gonna go to jail?

That's your plan?

- Well, no, that-- that's--
- No!

It's absolutely unacceptable.

I assume you're in communication
with the White House lawyers.

- Now, hold on. Ma'am--
- You give them a message

from Howard.

You tell them
loyalty is a two-way street.

I know how this game is played,
and those spineless,

two-faced politicians
need to hear it.

Dot, please, you can't just--

I was on the last train
out of Shanghai in '49

with a .25 caliber
strapped to my thigh,

dressed as a peasant.

If we're taking the fall,
we're not going down alone.

You tell them.

- Understand?
- Yes, ma'am.

Let's go, Howard.

I better go.

- We're looking for 2500.
- ♪ (UPBEAT POP SONG PLAYING
OVER RADIO) ♪

That's 2117,
so a little farther. Keep going.

Why doesn't he wanna
just meet you at his office?

LaRue cannot be seen with me.
Nobody can.

That's why I'm taking
the service elevator

up to his apartment.

And Howard thinks
this a good idea?

He does. Unless Dorothy
convinced him otherwise.

I would never ask you
about your work.

I'm only driving
because you asked me to.

I have it all under control.

Blame the whole break-in
on the CIA.

And then they will deny it.

But no one's going
to believe them

because they're a bunch
of double-dealing

panty-sniffers.

And Dean will tell the FBI
to stop the investigation

because it compromises
national intelligence.

It's just really as simple--
Oh, fuck!

What is it, Gordon?

The president's
lawyer's apartment is

at the Watergate.
Oh, that is perfect.

- Should we go home?
- Oh, no. Proceed as planned.

- Just take a left here.
- Roger that.

Turn signals, turn signals. Sorry.

Don't forget I have
a roast in the oven.

I'm reporting
from Witches Island...

Mr. Bittman?

Good morning.

Good morning.

Morning.

So I spoke with the prosecutor
who said he is willing, uh...

♪ ("CAMELOT" BY RICHARD BURTON
PLAYING OVER STEREO) ♪

- ...to discuss the...
- I am not naming names.

- Yeah, I know!
- I say, I am not naming names!

- We can't hear a word, Howard!
- The house is bugged!

Anything we say is protected
under attorney-client privilege!

What?

As long as he's here,
they can't use anything!

- I...
- ♪ The winter is forbidden
'til December ♪

I know.

♪ And exits March
The second on the dot ♪

You hear that, Felt?

I'm not naming names!

I, uh, I did come
with a spot of good news.

Hmm.

A guardian angel
of yours sent me

25,000 dollars in cash.

See? They do fear me.
How soon can we get that?

Oh, you can't.

Uh, but my fees are covered
for the time being

so that should be something
of a relief.

Now, right after
the cash arrived,

I got a call from a Mr. Rivers,
who said he wanted to talk.

Okay, I'll need a secure phone.

Could you get our guest
some cookies or something?

Well,
he didn't wanna talk to you.

His exact words were,
"I wanna talk

to the writer's wife."

- Me?
- Her?

Mm.

I'm gonna need a secure phone.

Yes, of course.

Now, Howard,
did you say something

about cookies?

They're in the cupboard, dear.

- Is chocolate chip okay?
- Yeah.

Chocolate chip, Howard.

Yes, dear.

♪ (DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

This is Howard Hunt.
What should I--

Put your wife on the phone,
and wait in the car, Mr. Hunt.

It's for you.

Mr. Rivers?
Yes.

Your husband's continued loyalty
to his country is appreciated.

I'll send further instructions
through Bittman. Stay tuned.

And what
about the others?

The Cubans, Gordon Liddy?
Cubans?

They'll be looked after.
Liddy, he's on his own.

Just so we're clear, Mr. Rivers,

25,000 dollars is not going
to cut the mustard.

It's chicken feed.

I understand.
Just be patient.

My husband and I
are as short on patience

as we are on money.
Pass that along, Mr. Rivers.

Good day.

They wanted me
to tell you how much

they appreciated your loyalty.

How gratifying.

There is going
to be nothing for Gordon.

Sons of bitches.

We'll have to take care of him.

- How? Out of our end?
- He's my partner.

Believe me. I know.

And we can't let him know
that it's coming out of our cut

or he won't take it.

First things first,
how do we spread

the money around?

Gordon and I are both
under investigation.

I suppose I can handle that too.

♪ ("NIXON NOW RALLY SONG"
BY MIKE CURB CONGREGATION
PLAYING) ♪

♪ Reaching out to find a way ♪

♪ To make tomorrow
A brighter day ♪

♪ Making dreams reality ♪

♪ More than ever
Nixon Now for you and me ♪

♪ Nixon Now, Nixon Now ♪

♪ He's made the difference
He's showed us how ♪

♪ Nixon Now, Nixon Now
More than ever, Nixon Now ♪

♪ Listen, America, Nixon Now ♪

♪ ("GO ON WITH YOUR BAD SELF"
BY EDDIE KENDRICKS PLAYING) ♪

♪ One for the money
Two for the show ♪

♪ Light me up, darling
See how brightly I can glow ♪

♪ Go on with your bad self ♪

♪ You're the switch
That turns me on ♪

♪ Light me up, baby
See how brightly I can burn ♪

♪ Burn, burn, burn, burn ♪

♪ Go on with your bad self ♪

Thank you.

♪ Everything that I require ♪

♪ From the top to the bottom
Girl, you know you got 'em ♪

Fran.
Hi, Dorothy.

Do you wanna come in and...

Thank you.

♪ I can burn
All night long, long ♪

♪ Long ♪

♪ Oh, fire, fire
When you speak my name ♪

♪ Raging higher
You're the queen of my flame ♪

♪ Go on with your bad self
Girl, you know you got it ♪

♪ Everything that I require ♪

♪ From the top to the bottom
Girl, you know you got 'em ♪

♪ Every match
That lights my fire ♪

♪ So light me up, baby
See how brightly I can burn... ♪

♪ (SONG CONTINUES
OVER CAR STEREO) ♪

♪ Ooh ♪

♪ Ooh ♪

♪ Go on with your bad self
Turn me on, baby ♪

I don't understand.
What are we doing here?

For the 100th time,
it's a goddamned fun

family outing.
Stop touching the radio!

- See? Monuments.
- ♪ ("SUNSHINE" BY JONATHAN
EDWARDS PLAYING OVER RADIO) ♪

♪ She's gonna turn around ♪

♪ Brand-new bells
Will be ringing ♪

Get in the back.

Can we get ice cream now?

Of course! Let's go.

What did you just take
from under the phone?

Nothing.

Did you just use
the fun family outing

to cover up
some weird spy shit?

Absolutely not.
Let's go, Howard.

- Bullshit! Bullshit!
- Lisa! Enough.

Oh, okay, what are you gonna do,
Mr. CIA?

You're gonna send me back
to the insane asylum?

This family is living
a charade of lies!

I said enough!

♪ ("THAT'S LIFE"
BY JAMES BROWN) ♪

♪ That's life ♪

♪ That's what the people say ♪

This is all there was.

Goddamn it.

After Bittman,
we are left with only 5,000.

Don't forget the Liddys.

♪ I'm gonna change that, too ♪

♪ When I'm back on top in June ♪

♪ Say that's life ♪

Oh, Mr. Hunt, you must know,
the tennis courts are privileges

- for people...
- Don, listen to me. I-- I--

- ...who have paid their dues.
- I tried to send you a check.

- You have to leave, sir.
- And someone didn't mail it!

Six months in a row,
someone has forgotten

to mail your checks, sir.

You are embarrassing me
in front of everyone!

I'm sorry
I have to do this, sir.

But this is my job.

♪ Go down
To the neighborhood bar ♪

It's not fair, Don.

It's not fair.

♪ ("DREAM A LITTLE DREAM
OF ME" BY THE MAMAS
& THE PAPAS PLAYING) ♪

How's the soup, Jim?

Substandard.

Basically, hot tomato juice.
Might even be ketchup.

The payments have stopped.
I'm sorry.

Well, it's not surprising.

The money's
the most incriminating thing.

I can't believe Mitchell
would just abandon you.

- He seemed so--
- What? Loyal?

Hmm. Well, he had
the Plumbers hire you

- after his wife, you know?
- After Martha had me fired?

Yeah. He didn't do it
out of loyalty.

He was afraid of what I know
about his family.

That's all
that motivates these people.

Fear and power.
Mainly the fear of losing power.

But we're so close
to the election.

You have to understand
something, Dorothy.

These people we work for,
their cause is righteous,

but their souls are...

- rotten.
- Then why get involved?

The same as Howard. It's a job.

It's...

it's not a job to him.
This, uh...

war against the Left.

It's like a religion.

Hmm.

Thanks for the soup.

The Democratic bugging case

is now in the courts.

But Mr. Nixon
and his political operatives

have done
what no Democrat could do.

Through their evasiveness
and their delaying tactics,

they have made this case
of political espionage

a major issue in this important
presidential campaign.

Are you ready
for the arraignment?

Can anyone ever be ready
for an arraignment?

That's fair.

Got...

fired by Mullen this week.

Cowards.

My boss's son
works at the DNC.

McCord tapped his phone.

- It's not funny.
- Come on!

Dinner's served!
Look at that!

- Oh, lovely...
- You are in for a treat!

How about a toast
to better days?

To better days.

Prost!

So, now, we just wait
for Nixon to get re-elected.

Fingers crossed.

Well, e-- even then...

What are you trying
to say there, Dot?

Well--
She's-- No. Nothing.

She's not trying
to say anything.

No. I-- I was just saying,
even if Nixon wins,

there's no guarantees
that you all get pardons.

Right, Howard?

Go on, honey.

Tell them your idea.

Well, there--
there's plenty of time

for that after dinner.
Few more drinks.

- Tell them, dear.
- Here's the thing.

Uh, no matter what we say
or don't say,

the story is going to come out.

So, why don't we tell our side
and, uh, and make

- a tidy profit doing it?
- Tell them how much.

Well, my agent thinks
there'll be a bidding war.

And, uh, we're looking
at half a million dollars.

- Maybe more.
- What?

That much for a book?

Unequivocally...

no.

Wait. So, just no?

How the hell
are we supposed to live?

Pay for lawyers,
schools, groceries?

I've-- I've, uh,
I've gone back to teaching.

Franny can stretch a chicken
like nobody's business.

- We're fine.
- Oh, you're-- you're fine.

This honor-among-thieves
nonsense

all but guarantees
your reputations

will be destroyed by others

who have far less
to lose than you.

But you're fine.

Gordon, we will be laughed at
as third-rate burglars forever.

Or with a flick
of my typewriter,

we can restore our honor, right?

Right.

We were hired
to win a goddamned election,

and to protect this country
from the Reds.

So, please, tell me how writing
a tell-all book will do that?

- Hmm?
- Gordon, just consider it.

We never implicate
the president.

We just tell our side.

People need to understand
that we're not a bunch

of incompetent boobs,
we're patriots

who are acting
in the country's best interests.

- A book, huh?
- A book.

Like that book

that you gave
that pretty stewardess

on our way back
from Los Angeles?

I-- I-- I don't, uh,
recall any stewardess.

Well, she certainly
recalled you, Mr. Hamilton.

Matter of fact,
she saw your picture

in the paper. Hmm.

Called the FBI.
Apparently, she received

a copy of your latest pot boiler
and a nice handwritten note

on White House stationery.

On our children's lives,
Dorothy, I have no recollection

of this alleged person.

Probably just a, uh,
an admirer of my work.

Mm-hmm.

For those that need reminding...

my loyalty's is not for sale,
and I am not the type...

to talk.

Don't.

No need for that.

You should be ashamed
of yourself.

Oh for Christ's sake, Gordon!

Do you two know
where your money's

been coming from? Us.
Not the White House, not CREEP.

From our own pockets. The Hunts!

- Did you know this?
- ♪ (DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

I can show you the ledgers,
down to the cent.

Do you know
how much the White House,

and your beloved Führer Nixon
put aside for you,

and your five children?

Zero. Nada. Nothing.

And now, we are broke.

Come on, Dot,
that's not necessary.

Dead flat broke.
They need to know, Howard.

The people we are protecting
are bad people.

So let's drop
this loyalty bullshit.

We are the only ones
in this whole situation...

who've been looking out for you.

The food
looked delicious, Fran.

Goodnight, Gordon.

I'm so sorry.

Sit down, Francis.
It's dinner time.

And never apologize.

- Makes us look weak.
- Right.

♪ (DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

Order, order.

Pre-preliminary hearing
to be set

within ten court days.
Thank you.

Charges are,
one count of conspiracy,

two counts of burglary
and three counts

of eavesdropping.

Would anyone care
to be heard on bail?

No, your honor.

Bail is set at 10,000 dollars.

Gordon.

Gordon.

Pay the clerk the ten percent
and you can go.

Blood from a stone.

Don't leave town.

Goes for you, too.

Oh, I'm not going anywhere.

My bail bondsman
is also my mother.

Pay the man, Mother.

Gordon, can we talk?
Come on.

Oh, Gordon! Gordon!

Would you care
to make a comment?

How is everybody doing today?

Mr. Hunt! Mr. Hunt!

Howard, how does it feel to be
called a third-rate burglar

- by the White House?
- Mr. Hunt!

Come on, any comment?
Any comment at all?

Would you like
to make a comment for...

What part of no comment
don't you understand!

Now, scram!

Pass on another message
to the White House.

Politely remind them
about what I have

in my safe on Fielding.

And if they don't come through
with more money,

I'm going to blow them
out of the water.

I know things
about presidents past,

and present,
and a little event in Dallas

that could tear
this country apart.

I'll-- I'll pass it on.

Mama, are we in trouble?

You?

No. Why-- Why would you
be in trouble?

What about Papa?

I don't know.

I am so sorry.
This is all my fault.

You're all paying
for my mistakes.

- No.
- I should have put my foot down.

- I know better. And now--
- It's not your fault.

You know, I came back
from Paris to leave him.

I've tried to leave him
so many times.

And then the accident,
I-- I didn't think Lisa

could handle the divorce.
I'm so dumb.

Mama, it's okay.

- You kept the family together.
- And here we are.

I know how seductive
Papa can be.

What's
that supposed to mean?

Oh, no-- nothing.
Then what?

What-- What are you
talking about?

We just, um,
did some stuff together.

What stuff?

Um... I, uh, you know?
Nothing, really.

I just helped him, you know...

clean-- clean some equipment.
And, uh...

it-- it was microphones
and-- and, uh,

tape-- tape recorders.

And, um, it was the morning
after the arrests.

Oh, my God.
He had you destroy evidence?

I don't know.
It was his typewriter,

and...
Mm-hmm.

Um, I-- We just threw it
all into the river.

Thank you for-- for telling me.

You know,
it's actually kind of far out.

We've been getting along
a lot better lately.

Well, your father is always
at his best when it's too late.

Go.

Here.

Make sure
they give him fresh carrots.

He knows
when they're fresh, okay?

Will do, Mrs. Hunt. Don't worry.
They've got a fine new home.

Reporting from CBS News'

election headquarters
in New York.

Here is correspondent
Walter Cronkite.

We can now say on the basis

of our sample precincts
from South Dakota

that Senator McGovern
has not won his home state.

But President Nixon will win...

This-- This gives me hope!
- ...South Dakota

when all the votes are in
by 55 to 45 percent.

Whatever trials and tribulations
I have been through...

it was worth it.

Have you met
the president yet, Dad?

No, Son. But the president
once gave a memo

- I wrote an A-plus.
- What kind of memo?

Well, I suggested
he replace J. Edgar Hoover

as head of the FBI.

And I felt that Hoover
was lacking judgment,

and I questioned his loyalty.

The president called it
the best memo he'd ever read.

- Wow.
- Goddamn.

That was a hell of a memo.

Oh, goddamn it!

And there's the senator

approaching the podium.

Senator McGovern's speech
tonight will most certainly be

the most effective

- of his whole campaign.
- Oh, real effective, dummy.

Who did you vote for?

None of your business.

We need the president to win
so that he can pardon Papa.

- What's a pardon?
- Nothing.

And 496 electoral votes

in comparison
to McGovern's two states

- resulting in 17...
- Well, it was all for nothing.

- Come on, Dot.
- Hmm.

All of your Watergate...

was for nothing.

What are you talking about?
This-- Th...

...is a victory
for America...

- Mm-hmm.
- ...for democracy, for freedom,

for law and order
and we are on the winning side.

- Now, Nixon can do it.
- Oh, my God, Howard, wake up!

Nixon isn't going
to do anything,

because now,
he doesn't fucking have to.

And our whole world is broken.

Just like
your stupid typewriter.

- Honey, trust me, Nixon--
- Oh, fuck Nixon!

♪ (OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

- Your mother didn't mean that.
- Sounded like she meant it.

Fresh cash is a hopeful sign.
It means they care.

Sure.

Are you nervous about the trip?

It's just a quick stop
in Chicago--

Howard, when I get back
I'm taking David,

and we're leaving.
I want a divorce.

Listen, I know-- I know
I've made mistakes--

Save it, Howard.

Dorothy, please, I...

You know, there's something
I never told you.

Back when we first got together,
my station chief pulled me

into his office
and showed me a file.

Your file.

They were concerned
that your, uh, visceral hatred

of racism made you vulnerable
to Communist recruitment.

- Idiots.
- They gave me a choice.

Leave you or cut off all ties
with any friends of mine

who were overt racists.

This is supposed
to change my mind?

It was a lot of people!

You have always come first
with me, Dot. Always.

And now, your partner is a Nazi.

Ex-partner.

That should tell you
all you need to know

about the current state
of our marriage.

You know,
you're no angel yourself.

All that running around
in Uruguay

with your Italian gigolo, Quagliotti.

Yeah. I found the letters.
Real spicy stuff.

So, while you were
screwing your way

through Latin America,
I was supposed

to sit happily at home,
changing diapers,

and knitting an American flag?

- ♪ (SOMBER MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
- On my worst day...

I would not have used
one of our children...

to aid and abet
in the felony destruction

of evidence.

What?

St. John told me
about the typewriter,

and all the rest.

You tracked your shit
into our house.

I am so sorry.

- I--
- I have a flight to catch.

I-- Let me help you
carry your bag in.

Chivalry is the last thing
I want from you right now.

Dorothy, please.
It can't end like this.

It-- All because of a goddamn
little piece of tape!

Oh, Howard...

our marriage ended 11 years ago
on a beach in Cuba.

I have been holding
this family together

with spit and glue,
hoping you would come around.

But... I am done.

We're done.

♪ (MUSIC CONCLUDES) ♪

Mrs. Hunt, Michelle Clark.

Thanks for agreeing
to speak in person.

Yes, of course.

Does your husband know
you're talking to me?

Hi, there. Champagne?
Thank you.

Thank you.

I don't need his permission.

Chicago approaching.

United 553,
ten miles south with Uniform,

inbound for landing.

I kept meticulous records
of the incoming funds,

and the disbursements. It--
Ladies and gentlemen,

we'll be landing
in just a few minutes.

Please extinguish all cigarettes
and put your seat backs

in an upright position.

It goes all the way
into the White House.

- The Oval Office.
- Why come forward now?

I'm doing this for my children.

People need to know
they're the offspring

of a decorated patriot,
not some...

bumbling third-rate burglar.

Yeah.

Flight attendants,

please prepare for landing.

Completely off the record,
I assume you've heard

all the wild JFK rumors
about your husband.

I have.

He was questioned
about the assassination

by the Warren Commission.

And he told
the Warren Commission

that on November 22nd, 1963,
he was home with me,

making dinner.

Was he?

The truth is...

Howard was in--

♪ ("THE CANDY MAN"
BY SAMMY DAVIS JR.
PLAYING OVER RADIO) ♪

- ♪ Who can take a sunrise? ♪
- ♪ Who can take a sunrise? ♪

- ♪ Sprinkle it with dew ♪
- ♪ Sprinkle it with dew ♪

♪ Cover it with chocolate
and a miracle or two ♪

- ♪ The Candy Man ♪
- ♪ The Candy Man ♪

Who wants pancakes?

David?

Lisa?

St. John, let's go!

♪ Makes the world taste good ♪

- ♪ Who can take a rainbow? ♪
- ♪ Who can take a rainbow ♪

- ♪ Wrap it in a sigh ♪
- ♪ Wrap it in a sigh ♪

♪ Soak it in the sun
And make a groovy lemon pie ♪

♪ The Candy Man ♪

- ♪ The Candy Man can ♪
- ♪ The Candy Man can ♪

♪ The Candy Man can
'Cause he mixes it with love ♪

♪ And makes
The world taste good ♪

♪ Makes the world taste good ♪

♪ The Candy Man
Makes everything he bakes ♪

♪ Satisfying and delicious ♪

♪ Now, you talk
About your childhood wishes ♪

♪ You can even eat the dishes ♪

- ♪ Oh, who can take tomorrow ♪
- ♪ Who can take tomorrow ♪

- ♪ Dip it in a dream ♪
- ♪ Dip it in a dream ♪

♪ Separate the sorrow
And collect up all the cream ♪

- ♪ The Candy Man ♪
- ♪ The Candy Man ♪

- ♪ Oh, the Candy Man can ♪
- ♪ The Candy Man can ♪

♪ The Candy Man can
'Cause he mixes it with love ♪

♪ And makes
The world taste good ♪

♪ Makes the world taste good ♪

♪ The Candy Man
Makes everything he bakes ♪

♪ Satisfying and delicious ♪

♪ Talk about
Your childhood wishes ♪

♪ You can even eat the dishes ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah ♪

- ♪ Who can take tomorrow? ♪
- ♪ Who can take tomorrow ♪

- ♪ Dip it in a dream ♪
- ♪ Dip it in a dream ♪

♪ Separate the sorrow
And collect up all the cream ♪

- ♪ The Candy Man ♪
- ♪ The Candy Man ♪

- ♪ The Candy Man can ♪
- ♪ The Candy Man can ♪

♪ The Candy Man can
'Cause he mixes it with love ♪

♪ And makes
The world taste good ♪

♪ Yes, the Candy Man can
'Cause he mixes it with love ♪

♪ And makes
The world taste good ♪

♪ A Candy Man, a Candy Man ♪

- ♪ A Candy Man ♪
- ♪ Makes the world taste good ♪

♪ A Candy Man, a Candy Man ♪

♪ (SONG CONCLUDES) ♪