Original subtitles

Charles. Nedra.

Something's gone badly for my child?

Was it the man who was just here?

No, fella //adaxes Cruiser// in the marina just dropped by for a moment.

Then what is wrong, Charles?

Business problem, I'll have it solved shortly.

Ow.

Another challenge for the Green Hornet, his aide Kato and their rolling arsenal the Black Beauty.

On police records a wanted criminal,

the Green Hornet is really Britt Reid,

owner publisher of the Daily Sentinel.

His dual identity known only to his secretary

and to the district attorney.

And now to protect the rights and lives of decent citizens rides the Green Hornet.

/Chapman Fold/ from London, he'll be filing a story in about an hour.

If it's important, call me. Miss Carrie and I'll be at the cotillion room.

It's the City desk, Mike. Would you take it on line 4?

Thanks, Casey.

Yeah?

Yeah.

Let me ask the boss how he wants to play it. He's Vice Commodore at the Yacht Club there.

They fished a guy out of the Bayshore marina while ago.

Dead?

Very.

Who was he?

A private eye named Nat Pyle, remember him?

Yes.

Doesn't seem big enough to break up any other pages for this edition.

No, it doesn't, Mike. We'll hold it for a replate.

Nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Carrie.

That was an excellent show we saw tonight.

Provocative dialogue, interesting situations.

Provocative dialogue and interesting situations make me hungry.

I hope you have something appetizing in your refrigerator.

No cotillion room?

Unfortunately, in the publishing business you have to stay sort of loose and cool.

I'm learning all about the cool part. I'm sorry, Elaine.

I'll take you for a cruise on my boat Saturday.

I'll drop you off at your apar... I know exactly where my apartment is, Mr. Reid.

No, it's a pity your father didn't leave you an insurance company instead of a newspaper.

Losing your touch?

Nat Pyle is dead.

Murdered?

I don't know.

The first report is that he drowned.

But is it just a coincidence that he was here today trying to sell me information on Glen Connors?

What are you gonna do?

I have to talk to Scanlon.

If it was a murder, it's time he was brought into it.

Can I help? As a matter of fact, you can.

If he really had information to sell,

it should be a record of it in his office. You know the address?

Yes, but how do I get in?

As a reporter, looking for a photograph of the dead man.

You may have to bribe someone to let you in. Go to the cashier and draw out some money.

I was hoping you'd say that, boss. On the way back I think I'll stop at the cotillion room for a hamburger.

Be a shame to waste your reservation.

What's up?

You know a private investigator named Nat Pyle?

Yeah, I don't have much use for him.

He died tonight.

It appeared accidental,

but I think it was murder.

What's your interest? This.

"Mobster Glen Connors Disappears"

What about it? This story is 3 years old.

Pyle was in my office today.

He wanted $25,000 for a lead, that would show that Glen Connors is not only alive, but hiding in the city.

No, I don't buy that. Neither did I.

What's your point?

If Pyle had sold this information to someone else and was killed because of it, it must be checked out.

How'd he died?

Drowned.

Body discovered about 10.

City morgue, sergeant Anderson.

Sergeant Anderson, this is district attorney.

Do you have the body there of a man named Nat Pyle?

Yes sir.

Autopsy completed?

Yes sir.

Homicide?

Doc list the death as accidental.

Blood tests showed a very high alcoholic content,

considerable water in the lungs.

Any bruises?

Slight,

not necessarily related.

The man was pretty drunk.

He can received them when he fell overboard.

Thanks, sergeant.

I think you might as well write that off.

'Pyle was a lush and an opportunist'.

You don't write off the chance that Glen Connors may still be alive?

He was one of the men who framed my father.

Hornet Sting

check.

It's been forced. Casey wouldn't do that.

Look.

Microfilm.

It's Casey's.

Whether Glen Connors is alive or dead suddenly doesn't seem so important.

Mr. Pyle could certainly get himself in some jams, but this is the first time he's ever gotten me in one.

And you are his secretary?

Overworked and underpaid.

But I don't see what business it is of yours, whatever your name is? You're not one of our clients.

Why were you so late in the office tonight?

I was trying to catch up on some filing and make out a few bills

until these rejects from the human race came barging in.

As Mr. Pyle secretary he must have entrusted you with a great deal of his business.

In what way?

He went to see Britt Reid, the publisher of the Sentinel yesterday.

How much did he tell him?

Why don't you ask Mr. Pyle? He lives on his cruiser right here in the marina.

Mr. Pyle had a most unfortunate accident this evening.

He drowned.

Oh, no.

That's why I'm so curious to know about his conversation with Mr. Reid.

See, I know that Mr. Pyle offered to show something to Mr. Reid, I also know that he didn't show it.

He told me.

Therefore it must be someplace in his office, it's not on a boat.

I'm sorry, I...

I can't help a bit.

Young lady will be our guest on the cabins below decks /gag entire/.

My apologies.

She appears to know nothing.

She knows about my interest in Pyle now and that makes her dangerous, too dangerous to release.

We'll take a cruise,

watch down on the water and return tomorrow evening.

Would you enjoy that, Nedra?

Morning, Commodore.

Mr. Delaclaire hasn't moved the Lady Capri to another berth, has he?

No sir, we helped him cast off before dawn.

You can reach him on your ship to shore if you want.

But he said he'd be back by nightfall.

Onshore, call a Harbor Police! We picked up a girl, dead, about 5 miles offshore.

Casey.

Good morning, Mr. Reid. Good morning.

Sure a fancy way to start a fishing trip. Yes.

There's some heavy gusts this morning. She may been caught by a boom swinging over.

You know who she is?

I think so.

She looks a lot like the woman who spent some time aboard the Lady Capri.

Friend of Mr. Delaclaire's.

We're getting Mike Axford out of the staff meeting.

A Lady Capri is under constant surveillance both helicopter and coast guard cutters.

Good.

Good? I hope you know what you're doing. Delaclaire carries a lot of weight.

This is a Lady Capri, Delaclaire's boat.

I had it blown up from the microfilm in Casey shoe.

I asked myself why would Nat Pyle have that photograph?

So I went to the marina to find out. And I found...

this girl,

dead.

Well, that's Glen Connors with her, but...

who's she?

Her name is Nedra Vallen.

An actress of sorts in European film. She was quite an item with Delaclaire.

And this.

This?

Well, this is just a list of heavy construction firms here in town.

All controlled by Delaclaire's holding company.

What's the connection between Connors and Delaclaire?

Delaclaire is one of the richest men in the world. He is...

society figure, press-shy, elusive.

Try this.

Delaclaire and Connors are one and the same.

What?

How?

The easy answer would be plastic surgery.

Well, that's too bizarre to believe.

Let's get to the truth.

Mike, you there?

Yes.

I want no questions, just action.

Replate the first page.

Top banner.

2 column box story under my byline

headed "Glenn Connors really dead". Make that a question mark.

But, but I...

Mike, don't argue, just listen.

This is the story.

This is a personal vendetta by myself as publisher and editor of this newspaper against Glenn Connors racketeer.

Paragraph.

For more than 3 years our city has thought Connors dead,

murdered in the same kind of gangland reprisal he himself conducted so ruthlessly.

Paragraph.

He is not.

I just picked this up in the marina.

"Glen Connors Really Dead?"

Nat Pyle was lying.

He did sell this material to Reid.

Yeah, but how we keep Britt from spilling more?

Maybe I can help?

You can use some, Mr. Delaclaire.

You have a girl aboard.

May I call you Connors?

You know that you know a lot.

I make it my business.

I have a proposition,

it depends on whether the girl is still alive.

A romance for the Green Hornet?

Let's say I find her useful.

Is she alive?

Yes.

An excellent facial transformation.

Except for a few hairline scars you'd have to be looking for.

Glen Connors,

how did you manage to find and replace Charles Delaclaire,

easily one of the most elusive financiers in the world?

That's what made it simple. No one really know him, except a foreign actress he was once interested in.

She suggested the plan of action and I took it.

Nedra Vallen.

If she was so important to your plan, why was she killed?

Very unfortunate about poor Nedry. You see, while my men was searching Pyle's office

they couldn't find what they were looking for. But they did find ample proof

that she was working with Pyle. So naturally she had to go.

Now all you have to do is liquidate Delaclaire's worldwide holdings, take the money and run.

That's right.

But what do I do about Britt Reid?

I propose to eliminate Reid for you.

Can you tell me how you're going to accomplish that?

You step aside, please.

Satisfied?

Yes.

What do you ask?

The girl free and unharmed.

Agreed.

And one-third of the take.

That could amount to millions.

Two for you to every dollar for me, and you'd be completely in the clear.

I think I'm being extremely fair.

All right, we have a deal. When?

Later.

I have reason to believe that Britt Reid is coming aboard his boat tonight.

How do you know that?

The same way I know about you, Connors.

You keep asking questions, and I might let Reid expose you.

I'm sorry, trust is not one of my virtues. I'm listening, go ahead.

You have a chart of the area? Yes.

I'll dispose of Reid

and leave my mark. It will be accepted as the work of the Green Hornet.

Reid berth his boat here.

When you hear the sound of the Hornet Sting,

you'll be a witness to his death.

But you realize it may take some time to dispose of Delaclaire's holdings?

I want the girl, immediately after I fulfilled the contract.

The other I'll collect later,

Mr. Connors.

Anything, Kato?

He sent a men out to round up the crew.

/Berth/ getting ready. /Good/. Bring the girl?

Yes sir.

Come in.

That takes care of the first part of a bargain.

What about the second?

How can I tell you on the operations completed?

You're not easy to reach.

I'll know, I'll reach you.

I want you to make a breakpoint.

Why?

Just go, no questions.

Mr. Delaclaire?

You mean, Mr. Connors?

I'll call Scanlon, he'll pick him up.

I already called him, he's on his way. So are we.

/In any chance/ make certainly inform...

Mr. Reid, you've got secret you're keeping from me, who was raised at your daddy's knees, so to speak,

and who raised you at my knees, so to speak?

No, Mike. Then how come this?

Connors assumes Delaclaire's identity.

He dies and his gang gets caught. Yet the Green Hornet, who was probably in that deeper than Connors, he gets away.

And the DA is still getting roses.

Mr. Scanlon is a very efficient public servant, Mike.

Breaking up the Connors-Delaclaire affair was quite an accomplishment.

I feel he deserves an editorial remarking on his dedication.

And forgetting all about the Green Hornet?

I can never forget about the Green Hornet, you won't let me.

Come on, Elaine. It's a perfect day for sailing.

You know, if I were a man, I would devote myself to catching that dreadful Green Hornet.

Ha!

Ha!

Don't put her down, Mike. She just might do it.

Ha!