All language subtitles for ironside_s07e06_house_of_terror

Hello?

Any ghosts in here?

Come out. Come out wherever you are.

Iris, stop that.

How about some light in here?

Coming up.

Well? Welcome to the haunted bedroom.

Hey, this is not so creepy.

No barrel of laughs, either.

I think it's kind of kinky. Jen, you're
not really going through with it. Are

you kidding?

I was just joking.

Well, I wasn't. Look, we had a bet,
didn't we?

$100, cash on the line.

You're not going to chicken out on us,
are you, Dave?

No way. How about you, Jennifer?

But it's silly. Well, sure it is.

But it's the easiest hundred I'll ever
make. Yeah, come on, Jenny, you said you

would. Please, Jennifer, don't. You told
us yourself that the last couple who

stayed here were never seen again. And
that was way back in 05.

Ira! Look, don't let him rattle you.

If anybody tries to come through that
door tonight, ghost or no ghost, well,

I'll use his to go for a baseball.

Right, you tell him, Dave. Right. The
mysteries of the dark beyond are not for

us to see. Remember, deep and silent was
the gloom.

Of that strange, unholy room.

Though the servants searched all night.

Till the glint of dawn's sad light.

Not a trace of hair or hide was found.

Of Quentin or his bride.

That's real funny, Ira.

It's nonsense.

It's a big put on. Yeah, that's the
girl. You show us. Now, come on. Give me

key. Oh, come on, Ira. You're not going
to lock us in this room.

Yeah, and you and Dave are going to put
one over on us. No way.

That was part of my bet.

Come on.

You and your fun ideas.

That a girl.

Jennifer, please, don't.

I'll be all right, honey.

To cheer you through the night.

Thank you. Okay, you guys, let's clear
the room.

Say hello to the ghosts for me. See if
you can catch one.

Good night.

You ready?

I think so.

Now leave us alone.

Good night.

Don't forget to shut the door.

They'll pick you up.

You're not afraid, are you?

No question.

Atta girl.

What is that? Drop.

Okay.

All right, open.

Two play.

Cards.

Two cards.

Three cards.

Three, three, cards.

One more card.

your kids about.

When Jennifer asked me if she could use
the house for a small party, I didn't

think twice about it.

You know all the guests?

Your niece didn't invite any strangers?

Well, certainly not to her. Why a party
there, particularly?

Oh, she wanted to do something
different.

It's a turn -of -the -century mansion,
old, with the usual legends, ghosts,

manifestations, mysterious
disappearances, drivel.

Next driveway.

of your kind of place, Dennis.

Oh, it's not mine.

I'm on the board of the society that
bought it.

We're restoring it to donate to the city
as a period show place.

Right now, I'd like to tear it down and
give it to the city as a parking lot.

It's a mess down here, but restoration
has begun upstairs.

Good morning, Chief. Commissioner.

Good for Fran.

Morning.

Well, all the convenience is home.

Get on, Chief. It's working.

The others are still upstairs.

Doesn't seem to suit this style of home.

Well, undoubtedly added later on.

I've taken statements from all the
witnesses.

They all tell pretty much the same
story.

I repent and Cindy Morris are still with
Ed.

And we let the others go home.

Are you ready to take on the spirit
world?

I've yet to hear of a ghost solid enough
to carry off two human beings. Where is

Ed? In the haunted bedroom wrapping.

On the walls?

And with witnesses.

Last door to your left.

Hello, Chief.

And how's it going? Nothing so far. No
trap door, no false walls, window locked

in the inside.

What about prints?

All clean.

Whoever or whatever took those two
people went all the way, even Prince.

Not a trace of hair or hide was found of
Quentin or his bride.

Two of the guests at the party last
night, Ira Fenton, Cindy Morris, Chief

Ironside. Mr.

Fenton, I understand you were the one
who locked the door and kept the key.

That's right. Is there any chance
Jennifer and Mr. Warren might have had a

duplicate key?

You mean like put one over on us, sneak
down?

That's what I mean. No way.

Look, Mr. Ironside, we all heard Jen
screaming her head off. Faces of blood

this candlestick.

It was on the floor right there when we
came in. No prints on it.

All right, run down Dave's and
Jennifer's medical history.

See if you can match the blood type.

One of her shoes was laying right beside
it, I remember.

It's clean.

So is the champagne bottle. So are the
glasses. Nobody's prints on anything.

A few partials around the door.

They could belong to Mr. Fenton and the
rest of the party. Could.

We've got the others.

Ready for Mr. Fenton and Miss Morse now.

All right, thank you both.

Well?

Nothing but a lot of rubbish and
building materials.

We're destroying it one room at a time.

I sounded all the walls.

Zero. Okay, this place...

Doesn't do much to the chill, but it
makes it a little more cozy in here at

least. Cozy is hardly the word for a
mausoleum.

Chief, we've been that route every
square foot, even the ceiling.

I wanted to do it yourself, school, nor
hadn't you noticed. I noticed.

Easy, friend.

Hey, if you thought I was a spook, I
take it personally.

Chief, if we're going to spend much more
time here, can we get a phone line in?

Running back and forth to the car is
wearing me fair.

You look better already.

What'd the lab have? Well, the blood on
the candlestick was the same type as

David Warner's. And there were no traces
of drugs or anything toxic in the

champagne bottle or the glass. How about
the prints we found? Matched

everybody's, but Warren and the girls.

It's as if they'd never been in this
room.

Yeah, but they were.

We have six witnesses.

That's the bottom line.

Two sets of facts that contradict each
other.

Well, what do we do with them? Well, I
pass.

We really can't do anything with them.
Well, I'm ready to believe in the

supernatural. Fine, let's check that
out.

What do you mean? Your ghost, or
whatever you want to call it, has a

going after couples.

You think he'd try for a quartet?

and windows are all locked.

No sign of any activity.

As quiet as a tomb.

Oh, you could have picked a better
simulant.

Chief, how much longer are we going to
stay here? It's after two.

Mind our lives, ghosts don't keep union
hour.

Nobody in any of the rooms. Yeah, the
doors and windows are still locked from

the inside.

Well,

somebody used this elevator.

This thing in the morning will get the
lab on it.

Hey, summer chief, we struck out.

That's all, and he was gone.

If it hadn't been for his wheelchair,
anyone would think he'd never even been

there. Not even any signs of a struggle?

None. It's incredible. I simply can't
believe it.

Commissioner, I'm ready to believe
anything that happened in that house.

up until last night, I was convinced it
was a hoax.

I thought those kids were playing some
stupid trick on me and all of us.

I even called Ira and practically blamed
him.

And now Bob.

Whatever it is, sir, it's no trick.

All right, all right, Fran.

Are you and Mark and Ed on top of this?

They're at the house now.

Do you need any more help? No, none at
the moment. We have a full crew out

now.

But I do remember that the chief asked
for the architectural plans of the house

yesterday. Have you found them yet? The
builder died years ago, but we managed

to track down the company that took over
for him. I have someone searching

through their old files.

If I find anything, I'll send it right
out to the house.

All right.

Well, thank you, sir.

Fran?

If you find anything, whatever it is,
call me immediately.

Of course.

We're not getting anywhere outside.

Doug has stuck probes all the way around
the house.

No tunnels, passageways, even big enough
for a mole.

Negative here, too.

What are you doing?

Looking for some kind of remote control
that would make the elevator operate by

itself. Yeah, well, there's got to be,
because there was nobody in it, that's

for sure. I'm not sure. I'm not sure of
anything anymore, as a matter of fact,

including my eyes, ears, and the rest of
my senses.

Take it up, will you?

Yeah.

I swear, if I didn't know we left the
chief in that room, I'd say that we'd

trip out to the moon. Don't trip, no
way.

Yeah. But give me another wise.

I can't.

Say one thing.

We don't get somewhere soon.

Showplace, landmarks, I don't care. I'm
going to make the commissioner take this

place apart.

Ed? Mark?

Ed!

Mark!

How do you do, gentlemen?

My compliments to the chef.

the only set of plans the commissioner
has been able to find so far from the

builder's file i could do yeah

yeah this is this bedroom hey look here
now this wall where the

window is yeah maybe

okay

Why that wall?

Well, in the specifications, it should
be six inches deep.

Just look at it.

Three feet easy.

Grenade has been added on later.

Yeah, sure, but why?

This is solid.

All the way.

All right, keep trying.

What does it say down here?

That should be the architect's name.

L -O -R -E -N -Z.

Well, you should be worth checking out.
Yeah, good idea.

Hey, Sergeant!

I've gone through.

The wall's about this thick, yeah?

And this plaster behind the wood.

Tear out the panel.

Maybe we'll finally gain a break.

We're overdue.

Open space in there, all right?

Wall so thick we couldn't stand it out
by tapping. Room in there for a man?

Yeah. Enough.

Hey, wait a minute. What is it?

Well, it feels like a leather thing.

JP. Jennifer Palmer.

To Commissioner Randall from Robert T.
Ironside.

Subject, Palmer Warner case.

I am writing this report in the same
house where I began my investigation,

yet I seem to have been moved back to
the time when the house was new.

I have been confronted with specters.

and manifestations.

But I have been drugged, undoubtedly,
and have been hallucinating.

I believe what is happening to me is
directly related to an incident in my

to someone who...

Good work, Ed. What did you find?

Well, where does it lead? Down in the
basement. Came out through a false wall.

It's a door from the basement to the
backyard.

They could have been taken anywhere.

Or it could have been a faint.

They're still in the house somewhere.

There's one secret passage. There could
be others.

Well, keep looking.

Tear the house down if necessary.

Yes, sir.

At least we've settled one thing.

Whoever's behind this is solid flesh and
bone.

Ghosts don't need secret passageways.

This is Chief Ironside. Put me through
to Commissioner Randall's office right

away.

Yes, sir. I understand, sir.

One moment, Peter.

Commissioner Randall's office. Betsy.
One moment, please.

I'm sorry, Mr. Delano.

Well, yes,

the commissioner is certainly interested
in promoting better relations with...

Hello? Betsy?

Betsy? Yes, yes, Commissioner Randall is
for better lighted streets. However,

that is not exactly his department.

Bessie, hello.

Uh -huh.

Yes. Yes, I'll tell the commissioner
that you called.

And thank you, Mr. Delano, for your
interest.

Sorry to keep you waiting. Bessie, this
is Irontide. Chief.

Put me through.

Yes, sir.

Yes.

Well, put him on.

Dennis, listen.

There are two houses.

Drew Griffith.

Dennis, I... Dennis?

Dennis, can you hear me? Hello, Bob?

Hello, Bob?

There's no question in my mind. Could he
tell you anything?

Oh, something about two houses and two
Griffiths.

Then we'd be cut off.

What do you mean, two houses?

I haven't got the foggiest notion.

Well, Griffith adds up to something. Oh?

I traced the architect.

He's dead now, but his children kept the
records.

The house was built for one Anthony
Griffith, a very wealthy man back at the

turn of the century.

Here's a picture of it.

The picture was taken the day the family
moved in.

Who are all these people?

I don't know.

Family, I suppose.

San Francisco Globe.

Old news photo.

Globe? That went out of business years
ago.

Well, there must be some back issues in
the main library.

Well, that's all we have to work with.

Mark. Fran, you take vital stats. I'll
take the library.

Yes, sir. Now, there was a real
newspaper, the Globe.

It's not like these modern sheets. Oh,
they print the weather, crossword fuzzy.

Good old yellow American journalism.
That's what the Globe gave you. There

murder, scandal,

sex, gossip, all the things that are fun
to read.

Oh, yeah, I'm sure. But what about those
files?

Files? Yeah.

There they are.

Help yourself.

Uh, don't you have them on microfilm?

Microfilm?

When they get around to it, when they
got the money, all you want is up there.

Don't you tear them pages?

Yeah, thanks.

There's a lot of fine reading up there.
Do you know there is more good old

American mayhem in one edition of the
Globe than a whole month of Dick Tracy?

Yeah, I'll bet.

Well, let me tell you, young man, there
is no art left in killing.

Nowadays, it's nothing but naked, dumb
violence.

All the fun gone out alive.

I'm certain this case will be closed
very soon, one way or the other. I am

now that the object of this plan was to
cause my emotional breakdown

and my eventual suicide.

Since I haven't obliged, the plan now.

Must be my murder.

Commissioner?

Mark. I'm on my way to pick up Fran.

Will you get a hold of Ed and tell him
to wait at the house for us? You found

something? Yes, sir.

Another house.

Another... Yeah, just the way the chief
called it.

Anthony Griffith had a twin, John.

He built a carbon copy of his brother's
house in the country, about where

Millbrae is now.

Okay. By the twins in the two houses,
where did the chief fit in? He wasn't

born yet. Forget about it. No.

Let's concentrate on Anthony's son,
Anthony Jr.

By the early 40s, he was 60.

His father and uncle were dead, and he
inherited everything, including both

mansions. Yeah. He was one of the
fattest cats in California.

There were stories of bribery and
corruption.

Eventually, the DA's office got in on
it.

A young detective sergeant went inside.

Robert T.

Ironside. Right.

He not only broke the book, but when
Griffith tried to sneak out of the

he anticipated it, and arrested him on a
gangplank of a boat bound for South

America. Yeah, that was pretty hairy.
The old man had a stroke right there on

the spot.

Left him paralyzed.

Has he ever brought to trial? No.

His lawyers stalled the case for over a
year.

Then one morning they found him dead in
his house, the one here in town.

He had fallen down the stairs in his
wheelchair.

Griffith had a son, Drew.

He was taken out of the country when his
father died.

No line on when he came back, if he ever
did.

But he inherited what was left from the
estate after all the lawsuits and fines

were paid on him. How old would he be
now? Late 20s.

Just the age of any of the men who were
at the house the night Jennifer and

David disappeared.

Bastard.

Mr. Griffith.

Help me.

Help me. He's mad. Stop it. Control
yourself.

Stay down.

No matter what happens, don't move.

You'll be all right.

You'll be all right.

Get out of here.

It's all right, Jennifer.

I can't hurt you now.

How's Jennifer feeling, Dennis?

Vacation's a good idea.

She needs it. It was a pretty terrifying
experience.

Oh, I'm fine.

That is, I will be.

As soon as I get something to eat. It's
just about ready, Chief. All right,

Dennis. We'll see you tomorrow.

Still haven't told us how Drew Griffith
managed to take you, Chief.

You were armed, ready for something to
happen? Some kind of vaporized drug was

piped through the gas jets.

I noticed the flame lowering and then
blacked out. The next thing I knew, I

in the bedroom in that old wheelchair.

Think about obsessions. Gas, electric
gear, lighting systems, restoring the

house. Well, he must have spent a
fortune.

Probably spent another fortune getting
his head on straight.

Should have been done years ago. I can
still see him.

A little boy in a gangplank of a ship,
crying over his father, his whole world

shattered, and blaming me.

Had a devastating effect on him.

And on me.

Well, it could have been our one and the
other two guys. No, no, the party

wasn't their idea, nor the bed. It had
to be David or Jennifer. She was the

avenue to the house, and to me.

What really beats me is you figured it
out all by yourself while we ran

ourselves ragged.

As a critic once observed about
Gulliver's travels, once you've thought

big men and little men, there's nothing
to it.

Mark, how about the old man's hungry?
Coming up.

Uh, a big man, little man?

Just, uh, who was that critic? Who else?

Are we?