All language subtitles for gua-magnum.1980.s07e05-1080p

Tell me how
you killed the Fatman
and why.

(GUN FIRING)

(PEOPLE SCREAMING)
Oh, no!

Magnum, everybody knows
it's a murder.

Jean Claude Fornier
was poisoned.

Poisoned?

Strychnine
in his French onion soup.

You dirty rat.
I'm gonna rub you out.

I'm afraid you got
the wrong hombre, pilgrim.

How did you know
it was a murder?

Luther Gillis works alone.

Duck!

(EXCLAIMS)

What's the deal?

No deal.

Tell me how
you killed the Fatman
and why.

Maybe | can
talk to the Lieutenant

about a few weeks Off
for good behavior.

I'm not going in.

Why, Wilmer?

You said
you were coming alone.

| lied.

Who else knows
about the Fatman?

Now, if | told you that,

you'd have your goons
shoot me.

Care for a cigarette?
The names...

Say, Goliath,

you don't happen to
have a match, do you?

Come on, Wilmer.

(SIRENS APPROACHING)

You killed 'em.
You killed 'em.

We got here
as fast as we could.

You all right, Magnum?

Take him away, boys,
murder one.

Oh, and you better
call the coroner
for the other two.

It's all over, Inspector.

Looks like you wrapped up
another one for us.

Got a match?

Oh, hi, boss.

You still here, Precious?

Yeah, I'm just
trying to decide
what bills to pay.

Oh, by the way,
you have a late caller.

The Fatman's widow.

You forgot to tell me
she's such a looker.

Lock the door behind you
on your way out,
will you, Precious?

Hello, Angel.

Out a little late,
aren't you?

| heard you got Wilmer.

| don't know
how I'll ever repay you.

Cash would be fine.

But you don't understand.

| mean, | don't know
how I'll ever be able
to repay you.

You see, the Fatman,
he left me completely broke.

| don't have a dime
to my name.

Oh, Angel,
that's not what you told me

when you walked in here
three days ago.

| lied.

I've got
something else for you.

Something better than money.

Not tonight, Angel,
| have a headache.

What is it? It's heavy.

The stuff dreams are made of.

MAN: Like any of us,

Thomas Magnum
has his ups and downs.

Kind of goes
with the territory.

| mean, hey,
none of us are perfect.

Not even me.

But you can be sure
of one thing,

every time | came
to Bananaland on a case,

he was always there
to back me up,

to do the little things
that don't always show up
in the box score.

Providing me with the back-up
and the legwork

that enabled me
to crack three major cases.

Speaking of
the word "cracked",

it reminds me of a time
my little brother thought
he was a chicken.

We should have took him
to the doctor for a cure,

but we needed the eggs.

(CONTINUES LAUGHING)

Well, enough of the frivolity.

So, in conclusion,
| just wanna say

that I'm very proud
to be here today

and be one of the Joes
that's taking part in honoring

our pal, Tom Magnum,
as Local Private Investigator
of the Year.

And | hope to say

that maybe next year
he'll get lucky
and win the real award.

The national one.

Well, thanks again,
and | just wanna
turn the festivities back

to that super flash of a P.L.,
Richard Lindley, our Pres.

How'd | do?

You were wonderful, Luther.

| thought so.
Great joke, huh?

(SHUSHING)
LINDLEY: Thank you,
Mr. Gillis.

It's always a pleasure

to hear from
one of the pioneers
in the field.

Now | would like to
bring to the podium

not a private investigator,

but nonetheless,
a gentleman who is as expert
at law enforcement

as anyone who is attending
this convention.

The man who
almost single-handedly

crippled the drug dealers
in Southern France

and their leader,
Marcel Dubray.

A man whose methods
may not be sanctioned

by the Supreme Court
or the World Court,

but so far they have
the good sense

to let him keep on doing
what he does best
to the criminals,

and that's arresting them.

So, ladies and gentlemen,

| give you
Inspector Jean Claude Fornier

of the
Marseilles Police Department.

(IN FRENCH ACCENT)
Merci. Thank you.

You're all too kind.
Much too kind.

For your accolades

should be reserved
to the gentleman
seated here on the dais,

the great
private investigator,
Thomas Magnum.

! only did work
with him briefly,

but in that very short time,

| learned
much of his many talents,

his bravery,
his unique singing ability,

and his unique friends.

It gives me pleasure
to present this award,

for without
the incredible efforts of this
great private investigator,

| would be dead today.

(PEOPLE SCREAMING)
No!

No! Jean Claude!

Jean Claude?

Thomas.

Oh, gee, he croaked.

CAROL: Thomas,
| just can't believe it.

It just doesn't
make any sense, does it?

He was such a charming,
vibrant man.

| remember the time
he was shot

and | came over
and | brought him some
Chinese take-out, you know.

And then you came in
and you were jealous.

| wasn't jealous.

That's not what you told me.

Yeah. You said that...

| said Jean Claude was
a great guy.

Now, we've still got the room
you guys gave me...

There goes our party
right out the window,

right along with your award.

But there'll be
other awards, T.M.

Now, wait a minute.
Wait just a minute.
I'm shocked.

No, no,
I'm more than shocked.

I'm hurt that
you guys would think
for one minute,

one tiny little second,

that this silly,
unimportant little trinket

could have
any meaning to me

when put up against
the death of a human being.

Who you didn't like.

What's that got to do
with anything?

We're talking about
a human life here.

Oh, Thomas,
that's so beautiful.

T.C.: Yeah. I'm sorry.
Hey, | misjudged you, T.M.

| mean, | Know how much
you were counting on

having that thing
on your mantle and I...

| wasn't
counting on anything.

| mean, yes, | was flattered,
okay, | was proud.

But so what?

| mean, what really matters
is a friend,

a member of the profession
has crossed the river.

That's what counts.
Not this, this...

Award?

You're upset, Carol.

We've still got the room.
You go upstairs and rest.

Nobody goes anywhere.

Gentlemen.
Carol, my condolences.

What are you doing here?

Investigating a murder.

I'm not
investigating a murder.

RICK:
You're going to a funeral.

I'm going to Detroit
on vacation.

Jean Claude Fornier
was poisoned.

Oh, my God. Poisoned? How?

According to forensics,

with about enough strychnine
in his French onion soup

to wipe out
half of the rat population
of Waimanalo.

Which means someone
at the convention
must have done it.

You got any leads?

Oh, no, you don't.
This is not my case.

The only reason
| came down here
before | left

is to order everyone
to stay exactly
where they are.

No one leaves town.

Bad luck about the award,
Magnum. | know
you were counting on it.

If you're going on vacation,
who's handling the case?

(CHUCKLING)

Luther.

Right again, big guy.

No wonder they gave you
the old Poop 'n' Snoop Award.

Better luck next time.

What are you doing here?
Nothing.

You're investigating
the murder, aren't you?

You are.

How did you know
it was a murder?

Everybody knows
Jean Claude was quaffed.

It's all over the hotel.

You're looking for
some of the action, too, huh?

Forget about it, pal.
Luther Gillis works alone.

| don't want to
work with you, Luther.

Don't beg, Tom,
please don't beg.

You stay out of my way.
Do you understand?

Oh, yeah?
Yeah.

Hey, hold it, gentlemen.

Ray Lemon.
Hotel Security.

What are you two
doing up on this floor?

Looking for the ice machine.
Luther...

| need some ice.
| need a drink.
| need a drink.

(STUTTERING) Sorry, | got to
get my friend to his room.

You know, get him some coffee.
You know what | mean?

Yeah, you guys
wouldn't be so ambitious

as to try and con me
now, would you?

| mean, you're only about
the 10th and 11th P.lI.'s

I've caught skulking around
looking for a clue.

Really?

Really.

Thomas Magnum?

You're the guy
they're throwing
the shindig for?

Well, yeah, yes, | am.

That's in the old dumper now,
isn't it?

Well, it's unimportant,
really, Mr. Lemon.

Well, let me
give you guys a little clue.

The police are guarding
the victim's room.

So go play Sam Spade
in somebody else's hotel,
will you?

Hey, sure.
No problem.

We'll stay
out of the way.

Oh, listen, by the way,
| haven't heard.

Who's the police detective
assigned to this case?

LEMON: John Wayne.

Never a lawman
when you need one.

That rookie
better show up soon

or I'll have him
pounding a beat
in a cane field, by golly.

(MIMICKING EDWARD G. ROBINSON)
Oh, yeah? He'll have to
step over me first. See.

What?
What are you talking about?

I'm doing
Edward G. Robinson.

See? See?
I'll get you for that. See?

You know?
Uh, no, | don't know.

You don't know?
What do you mean,
you don't know?

Everyone who's anyone
has heard of
Edward G. Robinson.

How about Cagney?

You dirty rat.
I'm gonna rub you out.

Okay, now it's your turn.

I'm afraid you got
the wrong hombre, pilgrim.
| don't do impressions.

Oh, yeah?
Let's see if you can
figure this one out.

MAGNUM: | know
what you're thinking.

Lieutenant Gordon Katsumoto
had already searched
Jean Claude's room

and had probably
impounded anything
that might resemble a clue.

So why chance getting busted
by going over barren ground?

Well, maybe
because of something

Jean Claude had told me once
in confidence.

Something about
a little black book

that he hid
in a very special place

whenever he felt
his life was in danger.

And maybe remembering
those little details
told to you over a beer

is what makes the difference
between an award-winning
private investigator

and your
run-of-the-mill gumshoe.

Freeze, Magnum.

Let me count the felonies.

Put it down, Tracy.

You better tell me
what you're doing here.

LUTHER: Wait a minute,
wait a minute.

You ain't heard
nothing yet, folks.

No. | think
you better tell me
what you're doing here, Tracy.

Now, | know you're not
a meter maid anymore,

but | don't think patrolmen,
patrolwomen,

are supposed to be
lurking around murder sites
out of uniform.

Especially with Homicide
right outside the door.

| know that.

(SHUSHING)

How did you get on
Jean Claude's balcony?

Or should | ask
Lieutenant Katsumoto?

(SHUSHING)
No!

LUTHER:
...guys, it's Dirty Harry.

KATSUMOTO: Dirty who?

Talk to me, Tracy.
LUTHER: Dirty who?
What's the matter with you?

Softly.
LUTHER: Dirty Harry. You know?

Okay. I'm no longer a cop.
LUTHER: "Go ahead,
make my day."

Why?
| got fired.

Why?
Oh, it's really not important.

Well, how about,

"What's up, Doc?

"You wascally wabbit...

"Don't get excited, Rick,
I'm just..."

Inka dinka doo

It's okay, it's okay.

Now, for the last time, Tracy,
what are you doing here?

| am trying
to solve the murder.

How'd you know
it was a murder?

Magnum, everybody knows
it's a murder.

What, are you freelancing?

Of course not.

I'm a regular P.I. now.
Just like you.

In the employ
of the Richard Lindley
Detective Agency.

The Richard Lindley,
you know,

the President
of the American Association
of Private Investigators.

The guy who was
in charge of the ceremony
for the award

that you never got.

Have you talked to Lindley?

Yeah. About an hour ago.

Did he say any...

LUTHER: The plane,
the plane...
KATSUMOTO: What plane?

Were they talking about
rescheduling the award
or anything?

No.

Oh. Well, it's not important.

(LUTHER EXCLAIMING)

KATSUMOTO: Look, Mr. Gillis...

So, what do you say,
let's help each other out
and solve this grounder?

LUTHER: From the
greatest movie ever made.

Just like old times.
LUTHER: Ready? Here goes.

LUTHER: And this is
your last chance.

Frankly, Inspector,
| don't give a damn.

(SIGHING) Look, it's been
a pleasure chatting with you,
Mr. Gillis,

but | have to go inside
and call downtown.

A uniformed policeman
was supposed to be here
15 minutes ago.

Uh, wait!
What?

Uh, The Three Stooges!

(EXCLAIMING)

Look, pilgrim,
you take your hands away,

or you're facing
a one-way trip to Boot Hill.

(EXCLAIMS)

What was that?
The Three Stooges.

That's it!

Get out
or I'll place you under arrest
for obstruction of justice.

Let's go.
Now, if you're not gone

by the time
| finish my call, I'll...

(EXCLAIMING)

Hey, hey, are you all right?

Oh, it's my ticker.

Get the paramedicals.

Oh, hang on, partner,
I'll be right back.

Isn't this exciting?
No, it isn't.

Tracy, you're a nice person,
but every time
I'm around you,

things just seem to
fall apart.
You know what | mean?

Oh, gee, Thomas,
why are you so upset?

I'm not upset!

Yes, you are.

Okay, okay,

if it makes you happy,
I'm upset.

| could tell.

Here, catch.

How do you get fired
by the police department

and hired by someone
like Richard Lindley?

Well, that's
a very long story.

See, it all started...

Never mind, Tracy.
| don't... Never mind.

Here | come, get my leg.

| got it.

(EXCLAIMS)

Catch my...

(EXCLAIMS)

Whoa!

Thank you.

Tracy,

| can't stop you
from investigating,

but Jean Claude Fornier was
kind of a friend of mine.

Really?
Really.

So it's important to me
that | find out
who his killer is

without any interference.

So I'm sure you'll understand
why | have to do this

alone.

Paramedics'll take another
three and a half minutes
to get here.

Oh, great. All | need
is another stiff.

| gonna try some CPR.

Okay.

I'm not
that kind of boy, pal.

But maybe
if you play your cards right,

| might let you
take me to the party
at the hospitality suite.

But... But you were just...

Probably gas.

Thanks for everything, pal.
See you around.

(MIMICKING EDWARD G. ROBINSON)
See?

MAGNUM: | know
what you're thinking,
but this time you're wrong.

Sure, it's a great feeling
to be the one guy

who finally cracks
a major case all on his own.

But I'm not really the kind of
private investigator

who has to always work alone
and grab all the glory.

| believe in teamwork
and pulling together
to get the job done.

And I'm not too proud to
ask for help when | need it.

But when it comes to
Tracy Spencer
and Luther H. Gillis,

I'd rather do it myself.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Who is it?
Gillis.

All right!

Boy, that just worked
like bear grease

on the lock
of the ladies’ room
at the Cleveland City Hall.

Reminds me of a case
| had in Calumet City
back in '66.

It was a trucking company.

They were using their rigs
to transport illegal cases
of peanut butter.

Illegal peanut butter?

Yeah, but that's not
what was really
on the inside.

But quit meandering, Magnum.

You got to
live in the present.
The right here and the now.

What did you find?

| didn't find anything.

What? What do you mean
you didn't find anything?

After all | went through?

And you inside there
dropping more stuff

than DiMaggio did
in his entire career.

You wouldn't be
holding back on me,
would you?

Me? Luther.

All right. All right.

The scrounges who killed
that frog are gonna pay.

Even if | have to do it
without your help.

I'll let you know
if | find anything.

Nice try, though.
And I'd watch the booze.

It ain't that bad.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Magnum!

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Magnum!

MAGNUM: It actually got worse.
Between Luther and Tracy,

then Gordon wanting to know
what games Luther was playing,

and finally, Ray Lemon,
the hotel dick,

again warning me
to stay out of his way,

there was more traffic
in my room

than on Kuhio Avenue
on a Saturday night.

But there was another reason
for leaving my hotel room.

A better reason.

It had to do with
comforting a friend.

A friend who'd
lost someone she'd become
seriously involved with.

And that was
at least as important

as finding out what clues
Fornier's little black book
might hold.

Oh, Thomas.

This was written last night.

"For your accolades
should be reserved

"for the gentleman
seated here on the dais..."

It was his
presentation speech.

(SIGHING)

He certainly
did write a lot of
nice things about you.

Carol, I'm sorry
if this is
too painful for you.

What was that reference
to your singing about?

| think you better
let me see that.

Wait! Listen.

"| know everything,
yet | know nothing.

"And whether to tell
Monsieur Misty about it
is the question.

"Perhaps it is yet too early,

"but the fruit of the lemon

"is beginning to leave
a bitter after-taste
in the palate.

"More later."

Who is Monsieur Misty?

Ray Lemon.
What?

"The fruit of the lemon

"is beginning to leave
a bitter aftertaste
in the palate"

| think he's talking about
Ray Lemon, the hotel detective
at the Royal Surf.

Oh, that's an awfully
big reach, Thomas.

No, but maybe not, Carol.

| mean, Jean Claude
wasn't the kind of guy

who'd come
all the way from France
just to give me an award.

You're worrying
about your award
at a time like this?

Oh, no, no, no!
I'm not! I'm not!

| mean,
that's not important now.
It's just that...

Carol, | mean,
Jean Claude and |
didn't always see eye to eye.

Why would he, of all people,
come all that way
to give you the award?

Exactly.
Unless he was on a case.

Tracking down Monsieur Misty,
who you think is Ray Lemon.

No, I'm Monsieur Misty.

What?

This is stupid.

Well, on the Dubray case,
you know, we went
to this sing-along bar.

| kind of sang Misty.

Oh, Thomas.

What did he sing?

| don't know.
Sentimental Journey.

Our song!

Oh, Thomas...

Oh, no, Carol, I'm sorry.

Look, don't do that.
It's okay.

(SOBBING)

He'd want you to go on.

Okay.

Okay.

(SINGING)
I'll be waiting up for heaven

Counting every mile
of railroad track

He'd want you to go on.

Okay.

So, could you
put your computer
on overtime?

You know, any name.

A dry cleaners,
a clerk at a flower shop
that could mean something...

How did you know
that he sent me flowers?

| don't know.
He was that kind of guy.

Oh, Thomas...

Oh, no, Carol,
now don't do that.
It's okay, it's okay.

Oh, it's okay.
Don't do that.

(GUNSHOTS FIRING)

(CAR DRIVING AWAY)

Stay down.
No problem.

Hey, it's me.

Sorry to barge in like this,
but some wimp just shot me.

(MOANS)

HIGGINS: What's the prognosis,
Doctor?

He'll live.

Any lasting
repercussions?

| think the javelin throw
is out for the time being.

Can he talk now?

Oh, he can talk all right.

As a matter of fact,
he hasn't quit talking
since we brought him in here.

Great.

I'll check in
on him later.

This isn't going to work.

Of course it will.
It always has for you
in the past.

Yes, but in the past,
there was a certain
basic level of intelligence.

Whereas here...

It's okay, Chuckie.

We'll find the guys
who did this to you.

Oh, no. Not again.

Who's Chuckie?
Come on, Higgins.

This could be
our only chance to find out
who was shooting at him.

Who's Chuckie?

Very well.

Keep your eyes on the watch.

| got my own watch, Chuckie.

Would you tell me
who Chuckie is?

(SHUSHING)

You're getting sleepy.

You will remember
everything you saw last night.

Blanche.

Who's Blanche?
Will you be quiet? Please.

Higgins, it's working.

Perhaps | overestimated
the requirements.

Will you ask him
about the car?

Try to visualize last night.

You were following Magnum.

Magnum. Oh, yeah.
Too bad about his award.

| wish everyone would
forget about that award.

It's just
a silly piece of metal.

Steuben glass.

| saw it
in Richard Lindley's office.

Etched on the base.

Can we get back to the car?

Uh, just a minute, Carol.
Car?

Uh, wait a minute, Luther.

What was etched
on the award?

| thought
you didn't care about it.

| don't. But...

Perhaps they could present it
at Jean Claude's grave site
right after the eulogy.

Try to see the car
that was following Magnum.

It's all coming back to me
now, Chuckie.

Two-tone blue,
four-door sedan.

Lemon?

No, it was
a pretty good car.

Thanks, Higgins.
You did it.

Come here.

You take the diary,
get on the computer.

On the count of three
you will wake up.

And what about you?
One...

| got to pick something up
at the estate

and then I'm gonna
stay on him
for as long as it takes.

If Jean Claude was right,

Lemon is gonna slip up
somewhere along the way
and I'm going to be there.

Oh, Thomas...
Two...

Jonathan, Thomas,
| can't thank you enough

for everything that you're
doing for Jean Claude.

One question?
Three.

Who's Chuckie?

Only the best ex-partner
a guy ever had.

God rest his soul.

What are you guys
doing here?

Leaving.

This is the first
hospital room | ever stayed in
that had it's own butler.

MAGNUM: | know
what you're thinking,
and you're right.

Maybe | hadn't been
completely honest with myself.

Maybe | did kind of
want that award.

| mean, to be recognized
by your peers,

| guess that meant something
to me after all.

But | knew | had to
put that behind me
and just do my work.

Which tonight
meant watching Ray Lemon
make his rounds,

questioning people
about Jean Claude.

Just another
private investigator
doing his job.

Except whatever job
he was doing
at this time of night,

he was doing in the car
that was driven by the guy
that shot Luther.

| guess
that's called moonlighting.

(TIRES SCREECHING)

Okay, boys, freeze!
The banana train
gets off here!

(GUNSHOTS FIRING)

(EXCLAIMS)

Luther! Luther!

| bet you're glad
to see me!

No!
What? What an ingrate!

Ingrate! You're the one
who screwed everything up!

Me? Me?
| was saving you!

You are not!

| am too!

I'm out of here.

| would've at least gotten
the license plate number.

| can't believe
you just went out there
and didn't even tell me.

Didn't you get a good look
at the guy's face?

No, I...

What was
the make of the car?

It was dark, |...

You know, Tom, you're not
exactly contributing
your fair share here.

Me? Me? I'm the only one
doing anything!

Well, it doesn't seem to me
like you're doing very much.

It's you guys
who are making a shambles
of this case.

All you really care about
are your stupid
little fantasies

about being
private investigators.

You don't give a damn about
who gets hurt or killed.

And you should
know better, Luther.

All your years
in the business,

you come busting into
a discreet little stake-out
with both barrels blazing.

You could have
got yourself killed!

Or worse, me!

You see if | ever bail you
out of a jam again!

You don't have to!
| don't want you to!
Just leave!

Ah, stuff it, scrungo!

No offense, Magnum, but,

gee, you've changed.

Tracy, it's 5:00
in the morning.

Well, that's no excuse
for being rude
to your friends.

He's not my friends.

Well, no wonder,
the way you treat him.

You know, I'm not so sure
you weren't at our
little party at Wahiawa.

| don't have to
tell you anything.

You want us out of your way,
| am out of your way.

I'm almost glad
you didn't get your award.

A P.|. who can't even get
a license plate number!

(SCOFFS)

(DOOR SLAMS)

Hello?
Carol.

Yeah, it's... | know
it's 5:30 in the morning.

| got a license number
on the car

belonging to the guy
that the hotel detective
was meeting.

Oh, great.
Well, give it to me.

Mmm-hmm.

Okay, I'll go right in.
What are you gonna do?

Go check on a lemon.

MAGNUM: Ray Lemon certainly
was keeping odd hours.

He wasn't in his quarters
or his office,

and | was beginning to wonder

whether because
of the evening's
rather exciting events,

he'd decided to quit
the mundane tedium
of being a hotel detective

and decided to go
for shooting people
in the dead of night

as a full-time occupation.

At any rate,
at least | could ask.

Does the phrase
"material witness"
mean anything to you?

No, but "sleep" does.

Well, there'll be
plenty of time for that,
partner.

As a matter of fact,
Ray Lemon's gonna be sleeping
a mighty long time.

You know, | thought
after Ray got himself
kicked off the force

that he'd clean his act up.

You know anything about
multiple gunshots being fired
last night near Wahiawa?

No.
Come on, Magnum.

If | answer that question,
will you answer one for me?

Okay, you first.

No, you first.

No. I'm a cop.

No, I'm an award-winning...
Almost award-winning
private investigator

on acold streak.
Humor me, huh?

Okay.

What division of the Sdreté
was Jean Claude assigned to?

International
Narcotic Smuggling.

| knew it.

You know anything about
multiple gunshots being fired
last night near Wahiawa?

Yes.
| knew it!

| knew they'd been fired
because you told me.

And | know you wouldn't have
told me unless, in fact,
they'd been fired.

Other than that,
| know nothing.

Except for the fact
that if | hear something,
I'll certainly let you know.

In the meantime,
I'm long overdue for a nap.

(PHONE RINGING)

Listen, Thomas.
The car from last night,

the guy
that Lemon was meeting,

well, it was a rental.

Great. A name?

I'm afraid we've reached
a dead end, Thomas.

It was rented to a woman.
Somebody named Tracy Spencer.

MAGNUM: It had to have been
lack of sleep.

That's the only thing
that would have made me
leap to the conclusion

that Tracy Spencer,

ex-meter maid,
ex-police detective,

aspiring private investigator,

and 24-hour accident,

could possibly have been
involved in a drug ring

being investigated
by the great
Jean Claude Fornier himself.

On the other hand,

sometimes lack of sleep
can make you
acutely insightful.

| knew I had two choices.

Go get some sleep,
or find out exactly
what Tracy was up to.

Hold it, Tracy.

Let me count the felonies.

Magnum.

Hi.

What was in the package?

What package?

Tracy, you can talk to me
or you can talk to the police.

| don't have to
tell you anything.

I'm not talking
to you anymore.

Fine. Don't talk.

Just paw the ground
or something
every time I'm right.

Like Trigger?
Very funny, Magnum.

No, Tracy,
nothing's funny at all.

Especially to Jean Claude.

You know, he was really here
on a drug smuggling
investigation.

And the stuff was
probably coming in
from the Far East,

but how do the dealers
get it past the DEA
and the local police

when they've been
cracking down on them
like crazy

the last couple of years?

(IMITATING HORSE SNUFFLING)

Why not use the prestige
and good offices

of one of the country's
largest detective agencies?

They could
get the stuff through
where it has to go, right?

| mean, Richard Lindley
probably realized

there's a lot more money
in distribution than divorce.

And maybe you did, too.

That's a lie!

Are we talking now?

What happened, Tracy,
did Jean Claude
get close enough

to figuring it out
that you had the cook
you just met with poison him?

Wrong! Wrong!
Wrong! Wrong!

Prove it!

| overheard Lindley
on the phone
with this guy last night.

At first, the old super flash
was a little surprised,

but when | acted
all enthusiastic-like,

(STAMMERING) see, he agreed
to let me in on it.

You see?
I'm working undercover, too!

| was just gonna
get the goods on these guys

and just blow them
into the cops, see?

Get my own award.

Tracy, the shooting
in Wahiawa last night,

the license plate on the car
came back to you.

Lindley borrowed that car.
You gotta believe me.

| do.

You do?

| do. No one would come up
with a lame excuse like
"Lindley borrowed the car"

unless it was true.

He said he had to
meet somebody.
Lemon.

No, it's a pretty good car.
Really.

Ray Lemon, the bad cop
turned house detective.

You know, he was probably
ripping Lindley off.

You just figured out
a whole day's investigative
work on my part.

Oh, brother.

Tracy, would you consider
working together again?

Really?

Really.

Rick? T.C.?
You both on? Good.

How would you like to
share part of my award?

Of course
I'm still gonna get it.

But that's not important
right now.

Oh, come on, guys.
There's nothing to this.
Honest.

Hey, what's the matter
with you guys?

Your friend's in trouble.
Are you real men or what?

Hello, Luther. Yeah, I've been
kind of having second thoughts
about stuff and...

Magnum.

Thomas Magnum.

Hello, can | speak to
Richard Lindley?

Tracy Spencer.

Hello, Dick?

We have a little problem.

(SIGHING)

Two minutes.

Hold it,
you guys can't park here.
Nobody move!

Now, wait a minute,
don't get nervous.
It's not what you think.

| think
it's exactly what | think.
Freeze.

But we...
Freeze!

LINDLEY: Tracy.

Thanks for coming.

Well, what's
the big problem?

It's Chang,
he wants to renegotiate.

Why didn't he come to me?

| don't Know.

| guess he just, you know,
like, wants to use me as

you know, like,
a middleperson or something.

Or maybe
you want to renegotiate.

Oh, no! No, no, no.

Chang said that, you know,

like he was just giving away
pure heroin to you

like he was
in the charity business
or something.

Uh-huh.
What are we gonna do?

Well, we'll take care
of him.

We pay him good money
for that stuff. Good money.

Thanks a lot, Tracy.

| think you have
a real future
in this company.

And | don't think
you've got any.

Everyone relax.
Nice going, Tracy.

Thanks.

Perhaps we could make a deal
for that recording?

It's still running, Lindley.

And you still have to
get it out of here.

Yeah, | guess so,
but unfortunately for you,

|... We've got
plenty of help.

Reach for the sky, mister.

(EXCLAIMS)

Believe me, Officer,
just go down
to the supply room...

(CLEARS THROAT)

Something must've
gone wrong.

So what do we do?

Duck!

That's what we've been
trying to tell you!

See?

Come on, the supply room.

Hello, Inspector.
How do you feel?

Oh, shucks, little lady.
It ain't nothing.

Just a flesh wound.

And Luther.

Mr. Gillis.

Thanks, Higgie.
Appreciate it.

Quite.

Can | sniff them?

Of course.

T.C.

I'd get up, but...

Don't you even try.

Rick.

Geez, | was kind of
hoping for chocolates.

I'll speak to the patient
across the hall.

Perhaps we can
arrange a trade.

And Tracy.

Congratulations.
Nice work.

(MUMBLING)

Oh, yeah, | know.

And last...

But not least.

Higgins. Carol.

The police department
sent this over for you.

Apparently, they found it
in Lindley's room.

He was using it
to keep his window open.

That's it? My award!

Your award.

ALL: Not that it's important.

Gee...

| don't Know what to say.

You could always start
with your acceptance speech.

Acceptance speech?
| don't really have
an acceptance speech.

(TRACY MUMBLING)
What?

Okay.

It all started...

This is silly.

It all started

in a tiny little town
in Virginia
some 30 odd years ago.

And | have climbed,
steadfastly

and with great care,

to this pinnacle
of investigatory significance,

and now | hold
in my hand, finally,
this cherished award...

(CAROL GASPS)

(GLASS SHATTERING)