All language subtitles for tales_of_the_unexpected_s08e01_people_dont_do_such_things

Thank you.

I almost passed by this place.

Surprising to find an accountant in this
setup.

Well, I like old things.

Stylish.

I'm Reeve Baker.

Joe Gamble told me about you. He said
you specialize in writers.

Oh, yes, I remember.

Joe said that you might be stopping by,
Mr. Baker.

Call me Reeve. Mr. Baker's somebody's
grandfather.

Mind if I call you Terrence, or do you
prefer Terry? Terrence will do nicely.

You ever read any of my stuff?

As a matter of fact, I have.

But my wife is your real fan.

She dotes on historical romances. I
believe she's read all 13 of them.

Bought or just read?

Both bought and read.

She'll be fascinated to learn that we've
met.

Well, now, I take it that you have a
problem.

More like a catastrophe than a problem,
I'd say.

The feds.

They're going to audit me.

I see.

Now, may I ask, who prepared your last
income tax return?

I did. And you've never been audited
before?

No, never.

How about your records?

Receipts, canceled checks and so on?

I thought you might like to see them.

I never throw anything away.

Yes, I can see that.

What do you think?

Am I going to go to jail?

Well, no.

Not this year, anyway.

Phew.

You know, I had something to tell you.

I have a new client.

Oh? Who?

Reeve Baker.

You met him? I mean, you actually talked
to him?

For at least an hour.

What is he like?

He just might well be the world's worst
record keeper.

Oh, no, I don't mean that. I mean, what
is he like?

Well, he spends every dime he gets on
women, mostly, to hear him tell it.

He drives an old sports car of some
kind.

He still rents, if you can believe it.

And he's being audited by the IRS.

Aside from that, I'd say he hasn't got a
care in the world.

Not married.

Not now, not ever is the way I believe
he phrased it.

What else?

Well, in one respect, he's very much
like you.

Me? How?

He never throws anything away.

Let me help you.

Thank you.

This has to be one of the most
delightful days that I have ever spent.

The coastline was so beautiful. It
certainly was. Absolutely beautiful.

Wait. I have a surprise.

Just some champagne to toast your
husband.

Me? Yes.

But before that, I want to apologize for
monopolizing the conversation all day.

All those wild stories about my rather
peculiar lady friends were...

They were fascinating, and I didn't
believe a word of them.

Weren't they fascinating, Terrence? Oh,
absolutely.

Now, the really fascinating guy is you,
mon ami.

Not only did you save me from the feds,
but you introduced me to the wonderful

world of tax shelters and deductible
trips to Greece and the joys of becoming

corporation.

So, here's to you, Terrence Carter, the
prince of tax avoidance.

Well, that's very kind of you, Reeve.

I mean every word of it.

Not just for straightening out my
finances.

But you and Gwen are good people.

Solid.

I really need friends like you.

He's unusual, isn't he?

Reeve. Yes.

I mean, he's different from all those
other writers who are your clients.

All they ever talk about is money.

With a lack of it, usually.

Reeve talks about the world.

He talked about a very great number of
extracurricular affairs, if that's what

you mean.

That's such a dumb word, affairs.

Well, what would you call them?

I don't know.

Dangerous liaisons, maybe.

He had a lot of those, too.

Oh, I didn't tell you this, but one of
his cast -off lady friends came by to

me the other day. You?

Whatever for?

She wanted to find out whether Reeve was
really as broke as he claimed to be.

What did you tell her?

I said, of course he's broke. He's a
writer, isn't he?

Did she believe you?

Well, she went away.

Is she pretty?

Yeah, I guess so. Why?

Oh, I don't know.

He talks so much about them that I
wondered what they're really like.

Oh, blonde, tall, young.

Not very articulate.

How young?

Twenty... Two or so, I'd say.

Terence. Hmm?

Do you think that we're stuffy?

Stuffy? Hmm.

Oh, particularly?

We're quiet, sensible, practical,
prudent.

But stuffy?

No, I don't think so. Why?

I don't know.

Get up in the morning, go down to work.

I arrange other people's foreign travel
and you mess about with other people's

money. It all seems so stuffy to me.

Well, I like my wife, my home, my job,
my routine.

If that's what you call stuffy, then
thank God for stuffy people.

We never take any risks.

Prudent people always try to minimize
the risks.

Oh, yeah, we're certainly very prudent.

Of course we are.

Well, I don't see anything wrong with
taking risks. I mean, maybe a little

excitement, maybe even a small
adventure.

You know why as well as I do.

People don't do such things.

Not people like us.

this corridor.

I was wondering if I could.

On the right, down the hall.

You can't run off to Acapulco without
telling her. You'll break her heart.

Gwen, my love, this may surprise you,
but she hasn't got a heart.

All that lies beneath that admittedly
attractive exterior is a cold and

calculating machine.

Her transistor might blow. that's true.

But no heart will break. There is none.

That's utter cynicism.

Gwen's right, Reeve. The poor girl won't
be hurt, you know.

Melanie?

Well, perhaps.

But Melanie should have thought of that
before she tried to gain control over my

life.

I'm not really going to Mexico.

I'm just merely going to disappear for a
while.

You know, fill up the deep freeze, lay
in some booze, and let the machine

all the phone calls.

Do you've done this before?

Sure.

Not only is it a welcome change, but I
get just one hell of a lot of work done.

That's rotten.

That's absolutely rotten.

What would you have me do, Gwen?

Marry the wretched girl?

Just be honest with her.

Okay.

I will.

Melanie, my sweet.

We were just talking about you. Really?

I'm going away.

Away where?

For how long?

Mexico.

Indefinitely.

I... I don't understand.

It means, my pet, that you and I are
through.

Done. Finito.

But it's over.

It's all over, Melanie.

You're doing a terrible, terrible thing.

But I guess you know that, don't you?

You see, Glenn,

Honesty is sometimes the worst possible
policy.

I felt sorry for her.

Melanie? I don't want to discuss it.

But you didn't feel sorry for her. What
that man did was inexcusable.

Still, it did make for a different kind
of dinner, Barton.

That's not funny, Terrence. Not at all.

And let's get something straight.

I don't ever want to hear Reeve Baker's
name mentioned again or him in this

house, okay?

Do you mind if I keep him on as a
client? I don't care what you do as long

don't ever talk about him.

mad at me, isn't she?

Because of Melanie.

Well, no, not really.

Yeah, sure she is.

That was a dumb thing for me to do the
other night.

I brought a little something for her.

Sort of a peace offering.

It's my new novel.

I wrote something on the inside.

To Gwen, who never throws anything away,
I offer friendship. Love, Reeve.

Well, that's really very nice.

She'd be pleased.

I hope so.

Well, I gotta be going.

Damn. What's wrong?

I've lost a button off my jacket.

I wouldn't mind except they're a match
set, handmade in Mexico.

I don't see it.

Neither do I.

Never mind. Just save it for me if you
find it. Sure.

See you, Terrence.

And thanks for the book.

Oh, um...

Nothing. Old age, maybe.

You? Hardly.

Here, I brought you a surprise.

Actually, it's a peace offering from
Reeve.

He wrote something in the flyleaf.

Oh, maybe I'll call him or write him a
thank you note.

Or if you write him, um...

Send this, will you?

His? Yeah, it popped off in the office
today.

So, uh, how's your love life?

Uh, nothing to report.

I've been living like a monk.

Not reformed, I hope.

Reformed, anything is always so tired.

No, not reformed. Just busy.

Don't forget, I'm a corporation now.

All

right.

Yeah, I don't do.

Oh, by the way, Gwen sends her love.

Gwen? Yeah, sure. Give her mine, too,
will you?

I think that's my ball over there.

You're awfully late. Oh, I'm sorry,
darling. I had a really picky client.

Why don't we go out to dinner?

Well, actually, I would like something
decent. Since lunch today consisted of

holes of Reed Baker.

By the way, I think he's reformed.

Secretly.

Reformed?

How? He says he's quit chasing women.

Well...

Maybe he's finally grown up.

Thinking about going to France for a
month, old buddy.

What'll I do for a golf partner?

I don't know, but I gotta get out of
here for a while.

There's this 23 -year -old beauty, rich.

Well, let's see, it was what?

Three months ago, you...

Claimed to be living like a monk.

Well, that was then, and now's now.

I've got to cool it with this new one
for a while, though.

You know, the marriage thing.

So it's a Riviera for me, pal.

Well, do a bit of research while you're
there, and it could all be tax

-deductible. That's right. I could write
the whole thing off.

Terrence, you're a marvel.

He said... What?

He's going to France, that's all.

To cool off his new flame.

The rich heiress?

You're lying to me!

Why would I lie to you?

We need to talk.

Reeve wasn't home, was he?

No.

Don't you have a key?

Yes, well, he lost his, so I gave him
mine.

Look, darling, I do understand. I really
do.

What do you understand?

Reeve and I are lovers, and we have been
for many months.

But he wouldn't answer his door, would
he?

Well, he's going to France. He's doing
some research, that's all. He's going to

stand for me, you'll see.

Gwen, you're a fool.

Don't you understand yet?

He's pulling his same old tired routine.

Freezer full of food, plenty of booze
and the machine answering all the calls.

He hasn't gone to France.

He's just trying to dump you the only
way he knows how. That's not true.

That's not true. Now stop this car and
let me out.

I'm going to find him and I'm going to
live with him and I never want to see

again. So stop the car, please, right
now.

For God's sake, Gwen, we're in the
middle of Griffith Park. I don't care.

If you insist.

That's right, Lieutenant.

She's been missing now for almost five
hours.

Yes, of course.

I'll let you know if I hear from her.

Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Carter.

Sergeant Demmer, robbery and homicide.

What's all this about? Nobody would say.

I'm afraid I've got some bad news for
you.

Your wife was found dead in Griffith
Park a short time ago.

Strangled.

When? Dead?

Are you sure?

I've got to ask you some questions.

Yes, certainly.

Do you know if she knew anyone who lives
near the park?

No, no one.

Well, no one except Reed Baker, of
course.

This locket was found around your wife's
neck.

It is hers, isn't it?

And the picture inside?

My God, it's a Reeve.

What about this gold button?

It was found clutched in your wife's
hand.

Do you know if Reeve Baker has a jacket
with buttons like this?

You'd have to ask him, but I'm... I'm
almost sure he has.

Surely you don't think he killed Gwen?

Well, if we didn't, we wouldn't have him
locked up downtown.

These strands of hair were found on your
wife's body.

If they match Reeve Baker's, he's done.

I'm sorry about your wife, Mr. Carter.

We'll be in touch.

This is Reeve Baker.

I'll be away for a while, but if you'll
leave a message after the tone, I'll try

to get back to you.

Reeve, this is Terrence.

Let me know if there's anything I can
do.

Anything at all.