Original subtitles

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)