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FBI.
I heard you before. The FBI.
Hey.
Hey.
Hey.
Hey. Come on.
Thank you.
That's Mara's car.
Who's driving it?
A Quinn Martin Warner Brothers production starring Ephraim Zimbliss Jr.
Also starring Philip Abbott, Stephen Brooks,
with guest stars Bo Bridges, Larry Gates.
Tonight's episode, An Elephant is Like a Rope.
Thank you.
Oh, Lou, I forgot to cash a check this morning. You wouldn't have a spare five
on you, would you?
That's great. I was going to ask you.
Barbara went shopping this morning.
So it looks like hot dogs at Corey's.
Can I help you?
FBI. The FBI.
Is this the FBI?
Sir, sir, please let me get some help.
Sit, but try to sit down here.
Sir?
Sir?
And he said, find FBI.
Is he?
Get a nurse up here and call an ambulance.
Yes, sir.
Captain.
See where he came from?
Hey, are those for real, Inspector?
As I can tell, yes.
Pretty big bills.
You sure you didn't see the driver?
No, sir. All I saw was the car parked illegally.
I'll have it impounded. No, I'd rather have it towed to the FBI garage for
laboratory checkup first.
I'll keep the Mets public police fully informed.
Well, all right, sir.
If you can get me an okay from the precinct. Yeah, I'll phone them.
All right, folks, let's break it up.
Come on, nothing more to see.
Well, we've had it.
They've got the money and the kid.
Leaving the cash behind, I can do without if I have to.
The boy may have spotted us.
We'll have to see if we can do something about him.
What are you going to do, walk right into the FBI, Billy?
The shape he's in, they'll take him to a hospital.
A lot of people die in hospitals.
$496 ,000.
But whose?
The serial numbers still have to be checked, Mr. Ward.
After that, the bills go in for latent fingerprint examinations and further lab
tests. Nothing in the national stolen property file?
Ransom payoffs, extortion funds, bank robbery loot?
No, sir, not a thing.
Hmm.
Well, whoever dug up this amount of money has got to leave a hole somewhere,
Jim.
And I want that hole found.
Any word from Lewis?
Yes, sir. He called from the hospital a few minutes ago. The subject is still
unconscious. They're preparing him for surgery.
So we still have no idea who he is.
Identification's still checking his fingerprints.
Chances are a guy capable of a job like that must have a record.
Unless the money belongs to him. Have you considered that?
Oh, yes. I suppose it's a possibility, Mr. Ward, but... I don't know. Did he
strike you as the kind of person with a legitimate half a million dollars?
He struck me as an unconscious young man with an unexplained half a million
dollars. You take it from there, without prejudging.
You're wasting your time, Inspector.
Is that your considered opinion, Doctor?
Oh, he'll make it. The surgery wasn't that radical.
Just emergency intervention to relieve brain pressure and hemorrhaging caused,
in my opinion, by the impact of a bullet.
There was very little tissue damage, more on the order of an internal slow
that built up until he had a delayed action blackout in your building.
Oh, he'll come around.
But not to answer questions.
He'll be asking them.
Thank God.
Where am I and what am I doing here? If you want him bright -eyed and bushy
-tailed, come back tomorrow. You'll have better luck.
I'll stay if you don't mind.
I don't mind if you take up residence.
No comment, Mr. Ruskin.
But in my opinion, he's the best neurosurgeon in the District of
Only the District's medley.
Thank you for the dandy tribute.
Here's a colleague of yours to help you waste your time.
Your cap's crooked.
When I want defending, I'll ask for it.
Hi. Hi yourself.
Get him back where he belongs.
What bit him?
Whatever it was, he probably bit it first.
Those laboratory reports?
Uh -huh.
It's all right. He's still under. What have you got?
A lot more negatives than positives, I'm afraid.
Let's see.
The hair and fibers unit went over his clothing. No laundry marks or unusual
identifying indications.
Everything mass produced and inexpensive.
The kind you'd buy at any popular price chain store.
Petrographic unit.
Traces of birth, seeds and graph...
Indicate he spent some time recently in wooded country somewhere within an
approximate 300 -mile radius of Washington.
What about ownership of the car?
No registration slip. The Ohio tags are mutilated and scorched as if the vehicle
had been wrecked or burned.
Or both.
Which it hadn't.
Which it hadn't.
Which means that the license plate probably came from a junkyard.
So we'd have to backtrack from the factory to the first dealership delivery
the various owners. It would take a lot of time.
Thanks.
Serology. Subject's blood type is AB. The stains on the money are AB.
Presumption he touched his wounded head and then the currency.
But there were stains on his shirt that were type O.
So presumably he had contact with the second injured person.
Question is who?
That's a good question.
No answer.
Any fingerprints on the car?
Uh, yeah.
Several isolated latents, all unidentified or unidentifiable.
And,
uh, the subject's own prints, of course, but, uh, that's a dead -end street.
So we, uh, we checked, and they're not on file in either the criminal or civil
section of the identification division.
so he's never had a felony arrest, which surprises me.
He's obviously too young to have been a member of the armed forces or to have
applied for a government job.
That narrows it down, doesn't it?
Sir?
It leaves one person to ask.
Him, when he wakes up.
Not if he talks.
Should he decide to keep quiet, it might mean half a million dollars for him.
Up to this point, we have a...
questionable car, some presumptive loot which nobody's reported stolen, and Mr.
X.
All we have to do is find out who he is and what he's done and what he's guilty
of besides a parking violation.
All he has to do is keep quiet.
Hi there, friend.
What's your name?
Alan.
What's yours?
Mine?
I don't know.
Nobody's questioning your judgment. I'm simply asking if it's possible for a
patient to deceive a doctor into believing he has amnesia. Of course it's
possible, but not in this case.
Inspector, you and your men have been at this boy off and on for three days. You
haven't broken his story.
I've tested him, and I haven't broken it.
So you don't think he's pretending?
I do not.
Now, if you're still unconvinced, I can put him under narcoanalysis.
The Bureau doesn't permit it.
Well, why not?
Well, for the simple reason that the evidence it might turn up isn't
in federal court.
You mean to say you people can't use scopolamine or sodium pentothal?
That's right, or any of the other so -called truth serums.
But this is a very special circumstance. That boy wants his past restored.
So does the FBI, Doctor.
The FBI.
How about you, Inspector?
Now, if that boy did commit a crime, and if all memory of it has been wiped out,
in other words, if his personality has been altered to the extent that he's no
longer capable of a criminal act, would you personally want him changed back to
what he was?
Let me put it this way.
My job is to find out what he was, what he did, and what he remembers.
My personal feelings have no more to do with it than yours have when you
prescribe for a patient.
I'd better look in on him.
Only the witch doctors know them. And now that we've murmured the magic
they're back together again.
How do you like that?
Okay, you put them back and we'll do it again.
All right, young man.
Time for you to have a little rest.
Do I have to?
No.
You have to.
Come back next time and I'll show you how to do it, eh?
Hey, Alan.
How about a ride back to bed?
It's not against any rules or anything. It's not a one.
Here we go.
Well, hi, big shot.
Hi.
Alan, you come back and see me now, boy.
That little kid's got a lot of courage, you know that?
The nurse says he'll have to wear those braces the rest of his life.
And he probably knows it, but, boy, he just won't give up.
I don't know what it's going to be like for him when he gets out of here. I
mean, no ball playing, no, uh... Do you ever play yourself?
You still don't think it's all a blank, do you, Inspector?
Have you got any idea what it's like to wake up some morning in a world that
you've never seen before?
Everybody's a stranger.
Every time that door opens, I say to myself, this will be the time.
This will be somebody I know.
Now, what's the difference?
Would either one of you gentlemen happen to know what this is?
It's like an electrocardiogram.
Lewis, you still think our John Doe is faking amnesia?
Well, I think there's a remote possibility he's covering something up,
What's this all about, Arthur? I just received a very interesting letter from
Dr. Levine. Let me read it to you. Mr. Arthur Ward, Assistant Director of
Federal Bureau of Investigation, so forth.
Dear sir.
Your chief investigator, Erskine by name, has been questioning patient John
with regard to the genuineness of his amnesia.
I myself have also been diligently quizzed to a degree that a less amiable
than myself might resent.
I have informed Inspector Erskine that in my professional opinion, John Doe is
genuinely amnesiac due to a cranial injury and the surgery I performed to
relieve it.
Whether he will ultimately regain his memory, I am unwilling at this time to
guess. But in order once and for all to establish his present condition, I have
conducted an experiment.
You know what he did?
He gave him an electrocardiogram and while the machine was running, asked him
questions about his past.
Well, the test may not have been up to your police standards.
I found no significant alteration of cardiac response to key questions which
supports my opinion the patient is not faking very sincerely yours.
Lewis, did you suggest any of this to him or even hint at it?
Oh, Arthur, come on.
Well, I'm sorry, but imagine him trying to prove a point with something like
this.
Well, I wish he could.
This is one suspect I'd like to see proven innocent.
I just got to get out of here.
But you'd be lost.
You wouldn't know where to go.
I mean, you won't let me go? It's not a question of that. No formal charge has
been lodged against you.
You're staying here because you're a patient, that's all. Well, good. Then
getting out of here the minute they say I can. Well, you may have a little
problem with that money.
I don't want the money.
And I don't care if you never find out where it came from.
I've got to find out where I came from.
Where I belong.
Who I belong to.
Well, believe me, we're trying to find that out, too. But don't forget,
shot you.
And if you go wandering around, they may try again.
There's so many things I don't understand.
Now, the money.
Now, why doesn't somebody put in a claim for it?
Why doesn't somebody put in a claim for me?
Too many have since you made the headlines.
You'd be surprised how many people want you in the family once they've heard
you've got a half a million dollars.
You mean to say that you've been turning people away without me even seeing
them?
Why?
Come on.
Is that all?
Yes, I think we have what we need.
Thank you very much.
Excuse me.
And don't forget the name.
Mrs. Harmony Butler.
And let me know when I can see the little stinker. I know he's my son. I'll
bet on it.
I don't care if you do put him in jail. All I want, the money he took out of my
purse.
Oh, you had all that money in your purse?
It was loaded.
Don't forget the name, Mrs.
Harmony Butler.
Well, that's eight fraudulence you've seen personally.
Or did she stir any memories?
Well, the only thing she stirred was the hair in the back of my neck.
Most of them would.
That's why we kept you out of it.
And you describe your cousin as, um... Oh, he's like me.
Out of sight, he's out of sight.
But not quite as sophisticated.
Hey, kid.
You're disturbing my thinking.
You see, the deal is that my cousin wrote me these letters, see, and said
something about how he was making all this bread.
Money.
I see.
Now, if you'll just give us your name and address.
You want me to write it?
Do you mind?
It's a mistake.
Forget it.
Daniel's his name.
He'd be, uh... I can't remember for sure.
Maybe 30.
Or maybe in his 20s, like the lad over there.
But he's a good boy, mister.
He'd sure take care of his pop if he knew I could use some of that money.
And when did you last see your son, Mr.
Hogan? Why, him and me was...
Oh, what am I lying for?
The last time I saw Danny was the night they sent him to the chair for murder.
My little boy.
Only he wasn't no little boy anymore.
He was a stranger.
I'm sorry, mister.
The saints forgive me for trying to make a buck out of Danny and his grave.
is our penance.
Erskine, I want temporary surveillance on the man who just left here.
How many down and outers have you seen with manicured fingernails?
I think they bought my story, but for those boys, you never know.
They might even have a tail on me, so watch your step.
Never mind the advice of the kid mentioners.
Will he ever get it back?
Well, let me put it this way.
If I were in your spot, I'd be ready when they turn him loose.
Then I'd kill him.
Well, that car that you inquired about, Mr. Atwood, was delivered new to Harvest
Motors, Des Moines, Iowa, in July 1963.
They tell us they sold it to a Mrs. Otto Fauché of that city.
My goodness, yes, I remember it. Why, that was one of the nicest cars I ever
owned. Mr. Fauché bought it for me back in... August 1963.
Well, anyhow, we really did hate to part with that car, but Otto had had some.
Business reverses last year, and we decided we really didn't need another
the family, so we sold it to Henry.
Henry, ma 'am? Henry Steelbridger. They used to live next door, right after they
moved to Indianapolis.
I believe Henry worked for some big music store there. He was a piano tuner,
know.
Henry Steelbridger? Yeah.
He works here.
But you got the wrong man.
Did this one live in Des Moines at one time?
How could I know?
Anyhow, he's working up at Fort Wayne Branch today.
You're going to arrest him, huh?
I want to ask him a few questions.
Come back tomorrow.
Now, why don't you go and bother people that are not busy?
Anything? One of the boys just took over him back. Now I can cover the ambulance
exit. There's no other way he can leave.
Rules are rules, Inspector.
You have yours, I have mine. It would be highly unethical for me to hold a
patient here against his will when he's recovered sufficiently to justify his
release. Has he recovered to that extent, Doctor?
Physically, and he wants out.
What about the amnesia?
He's demanding his release in spite of it.
He wants to find out who he is.
He seems to think you never will.
We may have a definite leave by tomorrow.
You know what I think, Lou?
I think the good doctor here is putting us on.
Squaring accounts with us because we chewed him out about that
electrocardiograph thing.
No, doctor, I don't see you as the kind of man who would let a patient walk
right out into danger.
Who's your friend, Inspector?
That's a perceptive young man you have for an assistant.
You're quite right, Mr. Rhodes.
I wouldn't.
Doctor.
Smedley, can't you ever learn to knock?
It's our amnesia patient.
He's walked right out of the hospital.
Come on, buddy. You getting on or not?
I, uh... Where do you want to go?
Never mind. Forget it. I'm sorry.
Look, if you really want to leave here, at least let someone know.
Where do I go?
Where do I go?
Why would the FBI be interested in a car I used to own?
Just routine, Mr. Steelbridger.
Now, as I understand it, you bought it in 1963 from a Mr. and Mrs.
Otto Fauché.
In Des Moines.
And you disposed of it when?
About six months later.
I traded up for a year later model at the... Can you
recall who you sold the Steel Bridger car to, Mr. Jason?
Can I rec... Can I... Oh, I'd just like to get my hands on that guy.
Well, I don't know what I'm complaining about. It's my own fault I got suckered
into this thing. A fella come driving in here like he'd come a long way and
fast, said his car needed a lot of work on it, but he didn't want to wait.
Said he'd just rather turn it in on something in good shape and be on his
So I showed him the steel bridger car and we made a deal. Oh, did we make a
deal? Some deal.
Well, in what way, Mr. Jason?
Well, this fella sounded so honest. I mean, the way he come clean about the
terrible shape his car was in.
And he paid me the difference in cash, gave me a $500 bill.
And there was this hitchhiker with him.
Nice -looking young fella, 16, 17 years old. That's another thing made me feel
like I could trust him.
How'd I know the registration slip would be a phony? And them license plates,
they turned out to be phonies, too.
Probably got them off a junker.
He did the same pattern on the car you sold him.
Sure he did.
Of course he did.
Here I am stuck with what could be hot merchandise.
I can't even resell this till I trace the title.
Mr. Jason, we'd like your permission to go over this car for fingerprints and
other possible evidence.
We can do it right here if you like.
Help yourself.
Oh, wait a minute. Here's something else I want to show you.
That doggone guy drove out of here so fast after he made the deal, poor
hitchhiker didn't even get a chance to transfer his gear.
Today's boy is tomorrow's man.
His future is in our hands.
My wife and I have dedicated our lives to it.
And to the orphan boys who have left here to become men we could be proud of.
As proud as if they were our own sons.
You know, Inspector, I'm a very lucky man to have had the money to have
supported an establishment like this.
I'd say the boys you've raised have been even luckier, Mr. Callender.
Well, at least to my knowledge, none of them went out of here to become thieves.
And that especially includes Jerry Foley.
You know, when you told me what had happened, well, I just... Well, what I
is that you could respect a boy like this for the betterment.
How old is he, sir?
Seventeen.
He came to us when he was barely two.
His entire family had been killed in a fire in a hotel.
Tragic.
Well, he was young enough to adjust quickly, and he had a quality of
that distinguished him from the average.
It was an aptitude, a special way of getting on with younger children as if
was some kind of, well, an older brother to them.
I frankly look forward to having him join our staff when the proper time
I'd hardly entertain such an idea if I thought the boy was dishonest.
You know, he could have stolen from me.
There's plenty of opportunity.
But he didn't.
He couldn't and he wouldn't.
No, Inspector.
The money that boy brought into that building with him did not come from
And yet there was a car, the bloodstains, and his wound.
Inspector, have you ever heard of the fable of the three blind men who first
encountered an elephant?
No, I can't say I have.
Well, the first blind man, he touched the elephant's trunk and he said, uh...
An elephant is like a snake.
The second blind man, he felt the elephant's leg. And he disagreed. He
elephant is like a tree.
The third blind man, he reached up and grabbed the elephant by its tail.
And then he argued that the first two were clearly mistaken.
He said, an elephant is like a rope.
And he was right.
And so were the others.
An elephant is like a rope if all you've got hold of is its tail.
Inspector, this boy didn't commit any crime.
He merely wanted to see more of the country he left with my blessing.
If he hit Titan to trouble, I know he did so inadvertently.
I know that because he's not capable of hurting anyone.
Lou?
I got through.
I spoke to Mr. Ward.
What is it, Jim?
A body was found in the woods nine miles outside of Warrington.
A beating and torture victim.
The Virginia authorities have put a hold on Jerry Foley.
Suspicion of murder.
Officer.
Well,
that's what we need around here. A cheery patient.
What's the matter? You got the pip?
There might be a cure for that.
Okay, so you're under guard.
It could be worse. You could be in a cell. I've kept you from that. Now take
that shirt off and sit here on the bed. I haven't got all day.
Well, that does it.
We'll never get to him now.
Let's clear out of here.
You know, you are entitled to see a lawyer. I don't want a lawyer.
Well, what have we here? An unconscious desire to be punished for something?
I don't know, doctor. I still don't know anything about myself.
I know they say my name is Foley and that I come from an orphanage in Kansas.
Well, that doesn't mean a thing.
I still don't know anything about myself.
I understand they gave you a pretty good character reference.
Must have been some dreadful mistake.
How do I know I didn't... Quiet.
How do I know I didn't kill that... Shh. Lock the flap.
What I was trying to say is how do I know I didn't kill that man in Virginia?
Now, they must think I did or they wouldn't be holding me here.
And his blood type matches the stains on my shirt.
All right, all right.
Don't forget the grass and the soil on your trousers and the tire tread that
matched the car you drove. It's all circumstantial, but if you like it, help
yourself.
How, doctor?
How what?
How do I help myself?
Tell me.
what you expect to find here, Inspector. We've been over this car four... I said
we've been over this car four times. Wait a minute!
How's that for a high five?
Isn't that something?
Scott, try the push buttons on that radio.
Wrong settings for this area.
I can try it manually.
Oh, no, never mind.
Make a log of the frequencies I set for.
There can't be too many places in this country where all five settings
correspond to broadcasting stations.
If we locate the right one, we'll know where this car came from.
And the driver, and the half a million.
And in reference to the status of the Fannin -Kresica fraud investigation...
Mr. Ward's office.
Oh, yes, Inspector, just a moment. It's Inspector Erskine in Indianapolis.
Hello, Lewis. How are you?
Fine, fine. Good, good.
Well, Lewis, your hunch paid off on those car radio settings.
Northern Nevada's the only place where all five stations are adjacent and on
air.
Northern Nevada?
Well, this thing finally begins to make some kind of sense.
Half a million in big bills fits in perfectly with Reno and Vegas.
And Rodeo, Lewis.
Rodeo, Nevada. That's the place where all five radio stations are.
And, Lewis, here's something else that might tie in.
The resident agent in Rodeo... Blackwell, yes.
Ah, that's right, Blackwell.
Blackwell has heard rumors through an informant there's a possible illegal
concealment of gambling profits at an establishment called Lucky's Club.
That's Lucky's Sandstone Proprietor.
You better go see Blackwell personally.
Right. Rodeo, Nevada. We'll take the first flight out.
Any problem getting here without company?
No, sir. I was careful.
Sit down.
This is Inspector Erskine, Special Agent Rhodes.
How do I know him?
Roy has been dealing blackjack in Lucky's club for the past several
Tell him about Mara, Roy.
Well, Sam Mara was head pit boss at the club until he quit about ten days ago to
go east.
Well, the word is he didn't just leave.
He went with almost a half a million of Lucky Sandstone's money.
Did Sandstone report this to the police?
He couldn't.
It was cash he was siphoning off the top of the profits.
So he kept quiet?
Just, uh, wrote it off?
Not exactly.
Well, he kept quiet, but he sent a couple of the boys after him, Mara.
You know, with a contract on him.
They got back in today, but they didn't have the money.
Man, if Sandstone ever thinks they pulled the FBI back with him.
Let's get back to Mara.
They killed him.
Caught up with him someplace in Virginia.
Beat him to death.
Was anything said about a third person in all this? A younger accomplice?
No.
I don't know anything about an accomplice, but... They said some guy
the woods while they were beating up on Mara.
That scared him off.
to go to the Bureau.
A way of getting even. He must have known it was finished.
Thanks for your help, Mr. Moverley.
Don't think it's been a pleasure.
I don't have enough to move on.
All hearsay from the informant. No evidence to substantiate any of it.
What we need is concrete proof, at least on the siphoning of profits.
We could just get a look at Sanditone's books.
That's our starting point.
We need a search warrant for the Lucky Club.
Yes, sir.
How many agents do you have available?
Two.
That'll have to be it.
agents in the casino.
I see.
Hold on.
Yeah.
Already?
Let him wait.
The FBI is already here.
Send Macklin and Ventura over right now.
Make sure you send them in the back way.
Then tell Ernie which way they're coming.
Down the steps and past the pool.
That clear?
Send them in.
Yes, sir.
How do you do?
Inspector Eskin, FBI.
Special Agent Rhodes.
Well, sit down, sit down.
Can I fix you a drink?
No, thank you.
You Mr. Rhodes? No, thanks.
Well, what's the problem?
I believe you have a couple of men who just came in from the East.
Right. A Mr. Macklin and a Mr. Ventura.
Two of the nicest guys you ever want to meet.
I'd like to talk to them, if you don't mind.
What a coincidence.
I just called them over.
As a matter of fact, they ought to be coming down the steps just about now.
Hello, boys.
Welcome back.
Quicker for us to do it than you, Inspector.
Let's go.
As far as Sandstone was concerned, I guess it made some kind of crude sense
him, at least. He knew we had him for siphoning millions off the top. He knew
Rhodes had examined his books. And he knew the two he'd sent against Morrow
would testify against him if they were caught.
And they would have been caught. So he had them liquidated.
I suppose he figured the law could only execute him once.
Come on.
Is the boy here?
Yes, sir.
Hello, Jerry.
Mr. Callender is on his way.
Do you think you're ready to talk to him now?
Yes, sir.
Nervous?
Yeah.
There's no need to be.
and Mr. Callender are here from the airport.
All right, send them in.
Mr. Erskine, how are you? Mr. Callender.
Sister Dr. Ward.
How are you?
And you know Jerry.
How are you, Jerry?
You haven't changed much.
No, sir.
You've grown a little.
Older, maybe.
Yes, sir.
I enjoyed the trip back.
Did Mom Gallander come with you?
You remember?
Yeah.
Yeah, I remember.
Come on, son. Let's go home.
Let's get out of here.
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