Original subtitles

Do you have enough money for the tickets?

Yes, dear. We'll meet you in the lobby.

Good morning, Commissioner.

Morning.

If the coffee's still hot, I'd like a cup, please.

Yes, sir, right away.

Well, Dennis, glad you stopped by. Sit down.

Am I interrupting something?

It's the usual crystal ball session about next Sunday's game by my

staff. We've got a little pool going.

Here, write your name in. He who crows on Friday may be eating it on Sunday.

Hey, that's not bad. Did you make it up? I think so.

I'm impressed.

And I'm out of coffee.

Something wrong, Dennis?

Right before last, a man named Mel Gordon was killed by a hit -and -run

It might have been murder.

They found this in his pocket.

And, uh... This one belongs to me.

No need to knock, Mark.

Thank the family sitting Shiva.

David was only 12, maybe 13 then.

Hello.

Mrs. Gordon?

Yes?

May I speak with you for a few moments?

I'm Robert Ironside. This is Mark Sank.

How do you do? This is good.

Are you friends of Mel's? No, I'm sorry to intrude during your mourning period,

but we're looking into your husband's death.

I've already told the others all I could, and frankly, if I can avoid

it again, I'd rather.

I understand.

I'll try to make it brief.

Now, have you ever seen that before?

Yes, it came in the mail.

How did your husband feel about it? He thought it was some kind of an

advertising stunt.

Did he keep the envelope?

I don't know.

Mr. Ironside, why are you asking me these questions?

I'm sorry, Mrs. Gordon.

I have to explore all possibilities.

Maybe you'd better sit down.

Thank you, Mr. Sanger, but I sit on that low, uncomfortable stool in there

because I... I mustn't get comfortable to the point of forgetting that Mel is

dead.

As if I've thought of anything else.

Perhaps we should let this wait.

No, forgive me if I... If I sound sorry for myself, it's only because I am.

But I'll be all right if you'll give me a minute.

All the time you need.

This is Hit Run, Victor Gordon.

Did you know him? Slightly. I saw him about once a month when we sat together

the parole board.

All right, Dennis. Call me if your men turn up anything.

And when Mrs. Gordon talked about her husband, I can't say anybody wanted to

kill him.

Ironside.

Yes, Frank.

Thanks. We should be back in less than half an hour.

Two other members of that parole board have died within the last three weeks.

Fred Arliss on December 6th jumped or fell from a nine -story window.

And Martin Calloway, December 11th, another hit and run.

Both accidents.

Any numbers?

Arliss got number two, Calloway three. Both clues, remember.

Okay, I'll buy.

There's a list.

What about number one?

Now, that's an interesting question.

Ed and I checked out the other members of the board.

According to his housekeeper, Carlton Duffy got number five.

Commissioner Randall, we know, has number six. And these three men have the

of the numbers.

That makes nine.

There are only eight men on the parole board.

Exactly. And if everybody on the board is covered, who is number one?

William Adams.

Male, Caucasian, age 22, shot to death by person or persons unknown, December

2nd. White disc with number one on it, found among his personal effects.

But it doesn't tie in. Adams wasn't on the parole board. Patience. Criminal

record dating back to 1962.

Repeated narcotics violations, imprisoned in 64, paroled in April 1968.

Tie in? Peace, brother.

So, between 1968 and now, Adams got someone mad enough to...

Kill him and then try for the eight men of the parole board that released him. I

know. Speak to everyone who's ever had anything to do with him.

Right. Ed, he was a pusher, so... Find out who his clients were, his victims.

Contact their families. It works.

This is Ironside. Is he in?

Dennis, you've been working too hard.

Tell me something I don't know. Glad to.

You're going on a vacation.

Oh, that's very kind of you, Bob. With pay? With bodyguards.

and snap out of it.

Sorry, but I'm depressed.

And if you dare tell me I'm a cop, I can't afford to get emotional, I'll

something at you. Fact remains, you are a cop and you can't afford to get

emotional. Ed!

Intellectually, we know these junk dealers do harm.

But until you see the lies they've ruined with your own eyes, I tell you,

If Adams had destroyed somebody I loved, I'd be tempted to kill him myself.

But the members of the parole board, what was their crime?

I'm sure they used their best judgment, but they made a mistake.

The punishment for paroling the wrong man is not death.

So we have two men and a woman, all of whom were at one time or another

complainants against Adams, and all of whom have dropped out of sight.

After someone they loved was ruined by narcotics.

A man's teenage daughter.

A woman's ten -year -old boy.

Don't say it.

Ed's already given me that speech.

You go home and get some rest. It's been a long day.

I'll be in better shape in the morning.

Good night, Ed. See you in the morning.

You can take off now, too, Ed. All right.

Where's Mark, anyhow? He reached all of the parole board members except number

five, Carlton Duffy.

Duffy. Duffy wouldn't even come to the phone, so I sent Mark up to explain

personally. Carlton Duffy. Isn't he the lawyer -turned -artist?

Yeah. Very talented man.

How'd he ever get on the parole board?

He's a lawyer -turned -artist.

How was your trip?

A waste of time.

Bad as all that. It was worse.

I didn't even see Duffy, but I talked to him through a door.

I tried to explain everything to him, but he wouldn't listen.

Doesn't sound like it. He wouldn't even consider police protection.

So he'll probably get killed and no great loss.

Who are you calling?

Sitting up at daycare. No, no, no, no.

Duffy's not the kind to let it hide a cop behind every bush.

Besides, if something went wrong...

We'd scare our man away and end up trying to protect the remaining board

for the rest of their lives.

We've got to get him now, whoever he is, when he tries for number five.

Well, looks like Duffy will give him every opportunity.

Ed, you stay right where you are until about 11. I may call you. Sure.

You asleep, Mark?

Mm -hmm.

Yes, sir.

Then please try not to get us a traffic citation.

How could I?

I'm not driving anywhere.

Interesting problem, isn't it?

It's about time you made up your mind.

I haven't. Just weighing the pros and cons.

Is this a state secret?

It's a state perplexity.

Just that somebody's going to have to become Carlton Duffy. You?

I don't even find that faintly amusing.

It's not my intention to be amusing.

Or mine to be dispossessed from my home.

Besides, you don't look anything like me. What difference does it make?

I understand you've become a recluse. No one sees you up here.

Same old Robert T.

Just can't keep that long nose out of other people's business. I'm concerned

with having a body in this house that a killer will think is Duffy. I'll worry

about the look -alike aspects later. How does Duffy become a cripple?

He falls and breaks his ankle tonight.

Duffy doesn't want any part of your little game.

I told that to your man here.

Duffy takes care of himself.

I've got a rifle, and I know how to use it.

Anybody comes poking around, I'll shoot first, ask questions later.

I'd like to make sure you don't shoot some innocent neighbor. I have no

neighbors.

They've all been exposed to me before. They know better than to come around

here.

Once and for all, Robert T., the answer is no. I don't have time to argue.

And I don't have time to waste.

Really quite moving.

Flattery won't help you.

You know me, Duffy.

I don't flatter anyone.

And quite remarkable.

Even in this life, they have a kind of energy.

A kind of vitality. More than that.

Urgency, perhaps.

I'd like to see the rest.

That is a presumption.

That you'd allow me to see them or that they exist.

You know, your last showing was toward the end of 70, Chandler Galleries.

These are all very recent.

You'd have to have produced more than three paintings in a year.

The presumption is that I have any more time to devote to sophisticated

repartee. Good night, sir.

You can take a canvas and palette with you. No reason to lose any working time.

I am not going anywhere.

To San Francisco for questioning.

About what?

The murders of three men on the parole board and threats against the lives of

the others. I received one of those threats myself.

Easy cover to throw off suspicion.

Robert T., you are setting me up.

Would I do a thing like that? You'll have to drag me in.

Mark, call the sheriff, please. Explain the situation. Tell him we'll need a

couple of men.

I will rip the phone out. And that'll mean a charge of interfering with the

police and the performance of... Operator.

All right, all right. Hang up.

I will not go to jail.

Of course not.

And I hate hotels. My place, then.

You can work or rest.

And if for any reason you need anything, Mark will be there.

I can take a toothbrush with me, I presume.

At the very least.

Let's get me set up somewhere.

Yeah. Bring that chair over.

This ought to do.

Do what?

Well, since I'm playing Duffy, Duffy has to play me, so obviously he can't be

seen walking out of here.

Now, bring the chair.

Can't do much navigating around in that.

When Dr. Gold comes out, he can bring a wheelchair with him. I didn't know Dr.

Gold was coming out.

Well, a broken ankle has to be put in a cast, doesn't it? You got it all figured

out, huh? Yeah, I better have.

Including my housekeeper.

His farmer's been working for me ever since I've been up here.

I might present a problem.

Oh, I don't know about this. She's a pretty swinging old lady. She might go

along with the gag.

I bet she'd like working for you better than him.

But that still leaves...

Only you and an old lady.

Now, if you have a good picture of yourself, I'd like it. Asking for a good

picture of Duffy is the height of resiliency.

Now, who else would have a hundred prints of himself?

You know, I've just about had it with your over -large mouth.

Watch out for my over -large teeth.

All right, gentlemen.

No need for further pleasantries.

Duffy, make yourself comfortable.

Oh, I will be more than happy to help you.

You'll probably be killed, you know.

At the very least.

I'd better get him out of here before I deck him.

Remember, Sanger, under this pleasant veneer is a really fine artist.

And you remember something, too, mister.

I was never much of an art lover.

Chief Ironside, Dovet.

You made it by five minutes.

I didn't want to pay you overtime.

I'd like you to call Dr.

Gold.

Have him come up here prepared to put a cast on a broken ankle.

A broken... What happened?

And get a number three kit and send it up with him.

Chief, what's going on?

Mark will brief you when he gets back.

When he gets... without you?

Ironside now batting for Duffy.

Or vice versa.

Enjoy.

Chief, what...

To

be really legitimate, I should build up that arch a little more.

Yeah.

The purpose is cosmetic, not functional, Doctor. This will do fine.

Is there anything else I can do for you now? Number three kit?

Oh, it's over on the desk.

If you don't mind, would you get me another outfit of clothes? Clothes

in the bedroom.

It's the most conservative I could find.

Do you mind telling me what part you're going to play?

Columba Adulasius.

Freely translated, that's Clay Pigeon.

Very freely.

Well, if there's nothing more I can do... No, no, thank you very much. I can

manage.

And thanks for coming up. Good night, Doctor.

Good night, Pigeon.

No problems yet, Mark.

Everything is quiet.

What took you so long?

I was out on the porch.

Well, that's smart, making an easy target out of yourself.

Every death has looked like an accident.

The only accident that could happen on the porch would be if a tree fell on me.

But what's happening back there?

I hope you're making our guest comfortable.

I don't have to. He's doing fine by himself.

You ever finish chattering?

Some hot coffee might be nice. Chief, I'm telling you, he needs more

down here than up there.

Maybe now you'll appreciate me a little more.

Now, Mark, try to remember, he's a guest.

Didn't Fran have anything for me yet? Yeah, they're on their way to check with

you now.

All right, contact them.

Warn them not to blow their cover.

Or mine.

I'll talk to you later.

Hey, you take care.

You know, no matter what he says, I just don't see that you're worth it.

And with the coffee, I'll take my sketch pad and charcoal.

You want it, you get it. You're no invalid.

Right.

And there's another thing I'll... No.

No?

We're gonna play it to the Hilton's.

You're a guest.

Mr. Duffy? Who else did you expect?

I'm Felice Evans.

You want applause?

I'm sorry, I'm late.

Where would you like me to start?

Start? Didn't Mrs. Farmer call you? She's got the flu and I'm taking her

I see.

No, she didn't call.

Now, how would I know what you should do? I'm an artist, not a housekeeper.

All right.

I'll manage.

I'm sure you will. Now, don't touch those.

But it's so dark in here.

Light hurts my eyes.

Well, I thought artists needed... And they're painting.

At this moment, however, I'm thinking.

And when I'm thinking, I like to be in a dim light.

Yes, sir. And I like to have it quiet.

Yes, sir. And with reasonable solitude. Now, the kitchen's in there.

Whatever you say.

Sir?

Delivery, man.

Our thing's in the Hall of the Mountain King this fine morning.

What happened to old lady Farmer? She finally get fed up and take off?

Thanks. You're welcome.

Don't you ever knock?

What, that low?

You're like I can handle a doorknob.

What happened to your foot?

Accident. No kidding?

Hey, are you okay? You look kind of... Fine, thank you. Now, if you'll excuse

me. Excuse you?

Man, you don't even talk like yourself.

Are you sure you're okay?

Positive.

I think you're wanted outside.

What are you trying to get rid of me for? I'm only calling your attention.

you're not, Jimmy.

How long do you expect me to keep my... Oh.

Mr. Duffy?

That's right.

I'm Jim Peters from down at the grocery store.

Sorry for barging in on you like this.

I've only got a certain time for making deliveries. All right, Hop, let's go.

Now, wait a minute, sir.

I'm talking to Mr. Duffy.

Hop, I'd like to see you. No!

Now, first you keep me waiting half a day, and then when I come in to see

keeping you, then you try to throw me out. No!

An apology would be more like it, I think. You know something?

Every time I'm right, you shut me up. And every time you're wrong, you yell

head off. Now, you want something to think about, try that on for size.

I don't know if he's like that with you.

His mother and I, we can't seem to talk to him.

Now, I'm not saying it's your fault.

But maybe if you let him spend less time here... He can spend no time here. If

you wish, we can always cancel the groceries.

Well, it was nice meeting you.

Did you get everything?

What are you talking about?

Nosy females make me itch. I'm going out for a while.

How? On my flying carpet. What did you think?

Good afternoon.

Afternoon.

You know a young fella named Jimmy Peters?

Jimmy Peters?

He knows better than to come in here.

His father'd kill him. Thought you might have noticed him going by.

No.

I'll have a drink. Bourbon.

Water or rocks?

Just bring the bottle.

Say, uh...

You're Duffy, huh?

Mr. Duffy.

Okay, okay. I just want to say that fellow back there is looking for you.

I wouldn't tell him where you live because I know you didn't like visitors.

Well, thanks for that at least.

But you've blown it now.

Carlton Duffy?

My name's Logan.

Hank Logan.

Hope I'm not intruding. You are. Don't sit down.

You see, I came up here especially to talk to you.

You see, I own a little gallery in La Jolla, Henri's.

And I've always wanted at least one Duffy.

So I thought I'd come to you and ask. At least your taste is in the right place.

But I hope you're a better businessman than you are a driver.

What do you mean? You almost ran me down a few minutes ago.

I'm sorry. I thought there was plenty of room.

You couldn't have come closer if you had.

Now you can sit down.

Now, tell me about yourself.

Hey, isn't that old man Duffy?

Yeah.

So what?

So I want to meet him.

He's far out.

I just wasn't getting anywhere, so I decided to come to see you.

Here I am.

Yeah?

Here you are.

Hey, like I'm here too, you know.

So I know.

So, ask me to sit down.

Why?

I dig you.

That's good enough. Sit down.

Why don't we continue our conversation tonight?

We've come to dinner.

Thank you, Mr. Duck.

Don't be late.

I won't, sir. I won't. 7 .30.

7 .30.

Thank you very much.

Would you like to tell me what you think you are doing?

You know, playing sitting duck is one thing.

But doing it where anybody can shoot you or slip a knife into you.

Decoy does no good packed away in a closet.

He's got to be out in the open.

And you forget the possibility of putting something in my drink.

No, I didn't.

How much of that have you had?

Enough to make Duffy's reputation.

Now, what about our suspects?

Still only three.

Bill Jackson, 24.

Medium height and build.

Brown hair and eyes.

He took off a few days ago without telling anybody where.

He's the one whose wife... I remember.

Any pictures?

No.

Then Alec Knight.

35, 6 '1", lean build.

The one with the daughter.

He also just picked up and left.

And you know what?

I've been sitting with a very good description of him.

That's a silly question.

Now, the third?

Lucy Mann, 35.

Could be your housekeeper.

My housekeeper?

Well, how do you think we knew where you were?

I mean, she told us you'd come down this way. And she wasn't exactly heartbroken

that you'd left.

She's a replacement.

Name's Felice Evans.

There's her license number.

And look up the regular housekeeper.

A Mrs. Farmer. See if she really has the flu.

So, we could have two out of three.

Or maybe three out of three.

Oh, hey, man, nobody's putting you on. It's my old lady with him right now. You

want to talk to him? Come on, I'll introduce you.

Wait, are you sure he won't mind? You coming or are you going to talk it to

death?

Hey, are you going to spend a whole day worshipping at your guru's feet?

Mr. Duffy, this loud mouth is in.

Loud is right.

This guy says he came all the way here just to talk to the great Duffy, but he

don't know Duffy from shoe polish. Even when I pointed you out, he still wasn't

sure. I never said that I knew you, just that I came here to see you.

Why?

Well, I'm a art student, and I thought I might learn something from you. Maybe

we can learn something from each other.

Come to the house tonight, 7 .30. Sure, yeah.

Dinner. Hey, how about me?

Don't be ridiculous.

Yeah, how about me?

You can take care of the bill.

Now, hold still, will you?

Look, I'm trying to study a little quiet would be appreciated.

You can wave law books in front of me all day and night, but it won't impress

one bit.

Well, you'd be impressed if I threw one at you.

I'm impressed that you're pretending to read.

What is it?

Extradition rights and precedents. You having a test?

Tomorrow.

I suppose I might as well exercise my brain.

I set one of those precedents myself, you know.

H -212.

You notice the landscape.

The dimension of the leaves would have been lost without the underlay of jetto

and the many layers of glaze.

You see what I mean?

Of course.

It gives it great texture.

No other technique would have worked.

What do you think, Miss Evans?

I think it's a horror, but I'm no expert. I just know what I like. Know

like, yeah.

Dinner will be ready in five minutes.

Well, just time for another knock. Help yourselves.

Okay.

Tell me, Mr. Logan, how did you get into the gallery business?

Well, I've always been a nut about art.

Just couldn't afford to collect.

I'd like your opinion of something I started to work on this afternoon.

Notice anything about this technique?

Your yellows make it seem to come to life with real sunlight.

That's true.

But the technique, same as always?

Unmistakably yours.

Mr. Newell.

Exactly what are you doing up here? You know absolutely nothing about technique,

style, or art form.

You wouldn't know a gouache from a jigsaw puzzle.

What's your excuse, Mr. Logan? You're not a gallery owner. You don't even know

the basics.

Now, who are you, and what do you want up here?

Dad!

Dinner, gentlemen.

Lost your appetite? Sit down, sit down.

Listen, I don't really think that little theme back there was necessary, calling

me a phony. If I'm wrong, I'll apologize.

All right, then I'll give it to you straight out.

I'm a guy looking for a safe place to stay. I need to stay out of the open for

while. Police?

Draft board.

Why my place? Oh, come on, come on. You have guys stay here all the time on

their way to Canada. You know that for sure?

Yeah, it's on the grapevine. Why didn't you say so?

Now, you ain't the easiest man to get alone.

What do you have to contribute to this little therapy session, Mr. Logan?

What are you, Duffy?

Frustrated detective?

The point is, what are you?

Nothing.

That's a word. Nothing. Nobody.

Wouldn't even have it made in Tahiti. No gallery in La Jolla.

Or anywhere else.

You see, I thought that if I could handle one of your canvases, I'd pick up

commission on it. A con artist.

Is that what you're really saying?

Hey, thanks for nothing.

Someday, somebody's going to close that big mouth of yours, Tuffy.

You're going to be wasted.

Would those be your sentiments too, Mr. Newell? Can I say?

No way.

You know, I really, uh... I really thought I was non -violent.

I really did.

Really did.

I really did.

You're one of the most gracious hosts I've ever seen.

How many have you seen, Miss Evans?

Housekeeper with manicured, polished nails, smooth hands, well -groomed hair.

Don't start on me.

You're the only one left.

Join the group, Miss Evans.

Just who are you?

I am a woman whose husband walked out and left her with a desk full of unpaid

bills, and I'm doing the only thing I know how, keeping house.

But if you're a sample of what I have to put up with... You've made your point.

Point. You got yourself another slave.

Yeah.

Now, at this moment... Every day's pay coming.

Keep it.

I'd pay you to get out of here.

All right, Ed. Nobody checks out.

There's no record of Matt Newell as an art student anywhere in or around San

Francisco, and Hank Logan doesn't own any art gallery in La Jolla.

What about Mrs. Farmer, the housekeeper?

I'm still working on her. She's dropped out of sight.

Do you know that license number you gave us? Yes.

It's a rented car from a Tiburon agency.

Chief, let's call it off and get you back here.

Too late for that.

Pot's already boiling.

Night, Ed.

Now listen.

I was right.

Yes, you were right.

Jimmy, don't run.

You're in no danger.

I'm not afraid.

Then why through the kitchen?

Why the masquerade?

Where's Duffy? I can't tell you that.

Jimmy, it should be obvious to you that I couldn't

attempt this masquerade without Duffy's cooperation.

Now, if you're fond of him... If you care for him, as I believe you do, you

have to trust me.

Duffy wouldn't leave here, not of his own free will. Because of his sight?

What do you know about that?

What I know is that he's in danger, that he's unable to cope with it, that I'm

coping with it in his place.

I also know if you say anything about this to anyone, you're no

friend. You load the dice pretty good.

But you haven't given me any reason to trust you. Nor can I.

But somehow, listening to what you said to your father this afternoon, I thought

you'd understand. I thought I could level with you. Level, huh?

You know, that's one of your people's favorite words.

I want to level with you, son. Man to man.

Come on.

That's a put -down.

You don't want to level. You just want to give orders.

You know, I...

I've never had a son, so I can't say that I know how you feel or how your

feels.

Now, do you feel the people are really trying to hurt you or that in their own

way they're trying to help you? Don't you trust them? I might.

If they'd let me get... You can't rationalize it, Jimmy. You either have

it or you don't.

Mrs. Mann.

Duffy? Robert Ironside, San Francisco Police.

The numbers game is over, Mrs. Mann.

Well, it doesn't matter.

Life was over for me.

A long time ago.

I know about your son.

I'm sorry.

Sorry?

Such a comfortable word.

I wonder how sorry those people are who gave a man the chance to destroy my

child.

Give me back my child!

Have any of these murders given you back your son?

Can mine?

It can help me to forget.

It can ease the pain.

Mrs. Mann, I know how you must feel.

You know how?

How do you know what it is to carry a child alive and warm beneath your heart

and then to watch him the first time he sees?

And he loves and he laughs and he talks. He was all I had.

They let him be destroyed and now you're protecting them?

I will accept your apology in my own way!

E! R!

And Mrs. Mann admitted she tricked Duffy's housekeeper into leaving.

Sent her a wire about an illness in the family back east. The confession was

obtained with a rubber truncheon, no doubt.

Well, the great Duffy.

They say I should thank you for saving my life. I think not.

But I suppose you have done the art world a favor.

No, Jeff.

Nevertheless.

One thing has nothing to do with another.

So?

Of course.

And rest assured, your secret is safe with us. What secret? That the crusty

recluse uses insults and rudeness to mask the fact that he's a marshmallow

it comes to growing boys or anyone else with a problem.

You're a smart aleck, Robert T.

All the world hates a smart aleck.

So I'm going to give you the message I told Jimmy I wouldn't give you. He's

he trusted me. You should be grateful he did not.

The reason he hung around the cabin last night was that he didn't believe a word

you said.

Sanger, reread chapter nine. You're still shaky on that one.

Oh, hello, Duffy. Hello and goodbye.

Dennis, a man is judged by the company he keeps.

You know, if that package is for us, we will receive it most appreciatively.

Yes, this is for you.

Thank you.

And you may have that.

That's the bill for fire damage.

I'm surprised you didn't include rent.

We did, for two days. That's ridiculous.

You saved a man's life. Dennis, pay the two days.