All language subtitles for Charlies Angels - S3E12 1080p (moviesbyrizzo upl)

Thad? You better
geld that stallion.

Yeah, he's acting
kind of "studdish," isn't he?

- Valerie.
- Mr. Gillie.

I thought you were
still at Wellesley.

Oh, I am. Just visiting Dad
during the semester break.

Les, how did an old
racetrack bum like you...

ever father anything
so elegant?

Well, like you always said,
Mr. Gillie, class tells.

Oh, I can't deny that.

Must be something
in the air.

Now Perdition's
acting up.

Thad, are you still
training Perdition?

Yeah. He's been up at Golden Gate.
Do any good?

Nah. He still came in last.

I gotta check on some feed.
I'll see you later.

Yeah.
Dad, if I get up...

at this ungodly hour,
I deserve to be fed.

I'm sorry, honey.

Here. Get the car.
We'll grab some breakfast.

Great.
Nice seeing you, Mr. Gillie.

You too, honey.

See you later.

Trying for another heart
attack, eh, Gates?

Morning.
Top of the morning, sir.

Is there something
the matter, Mr. Ferrar?

There just might be.

I think I'll have a word
with Thad.

Pul him in with the stallion.
We 'll make it look like an accident.

Come on, bucko.
Give me a hand.

Thad?

Oh, God. Oh, God!

No!

We 're all deeply
sorry about your father, Miss Ferrar.

Can you tell us why you think
his death wasn't an accfdent?

My dad knew horses.

He wouldn't have put
himself in jeopardy...

by getting too close
to that stallion.

Stallions are sometimes
very unpredictable.

I know that,
and Dad knew that.

He wouldn't have gone
in the stall.

What did your father do
at the track?

He bet the horses.

Excuse me. Your father made
his living betting horses?

Yeah. He always has.

He used to say he stole his
system from Dr. Dolittle.

What's that?
He talked with the horses.

He really loved them...

and understood them.

Do you remember anything
unusual happening that morning?

I mean, something
out of the ordinary?

No.

Except besides the stallion,
one of the colts was acting up.

Um, Perdition,
I think, was his name.

Dad happened
to notice it.

He seemed
very puzzled by it.

Oh, really, there's no use
going on with this.

I know my father
was murdered,

but it seems that
nobody believes me.

Why should I expect you to?
I'm sorry if we gave you that impression.

From what you've told us, I think your
father's death does deserve investigation.

I suggest you go back to
school as you planned.

But first, you and Sabrina might
go through your father's things.

See if you can find any leads.

- Okay?
- Okay.

What do you
suppose is in this one?

Oh, that's Dad's
private file.

He made elaborate notes on
every mark and characteristic...

of every horse on the circuit.
He did, didn't he?

The official stud book
should be so thorough.

You can take it if you like.
Okay.

All right.
I probably better.

Oh, and this-- this is
stuff that was on Dad.

The police brought it.

Let's see what's in here.

Who's the letter from?
Me.

What is
"White SPT, LL, CHK"?

Oh, I think that means "white
spot, lower left cheek."

I sent this over a month ago.

Oh, Charlie's right.

I have to go back to school.

Dad would have wanted it.
Yeah.

And I have to look for a horse with
a white spot on his left cheek.

Yeah.

Pretty, huh?
Mm-hmm.

Sabrina Duncan?

Oh, yeah, that's me.
I hear you're looking for me.

Uh, you must be Mr. Roper.
Right.

This is Kelly Garrett.
Hello. Hello.

Heard you need a good exerciser.
Well, you heard wrong.

Oh, no. I got it from a very reliable
source-- guy up at the coffee shop.

I got all the exercise boys
I need right now.

Hey, you know, if you
discriminate against me...

because I'm a woman,
it's against the law.

Why do you want
to be an exercise boy?

I don't want to be an exercise boy.
I want to be a jockey.

Wait a minute.

I'll start out
as an exercise boy,

and I'll win
your confidence, hmm'?

Okay. Okay, let's see what you can do.
Come on.

Oh, Ryan.

Thank you.

All right.

Remember, don't press.
Let the horse pace himself.

Sure.

She seems to have
the feel of the horse.

He admitted reluctantly.

Thad, your new boy makes
that horse look very good.

That new boy is a female.

Oh? Rides well
for a girl.

Rides well, period--
He said, happily surprised.

Oh, uh, Miss--

Oh. Garrett.
Mr. Gillie.

How do you do?
Excuse me. Work calls.

Do you rate everything
to gender, Mr. Gillie'?

No, I don't.

It's an involuntary
verbal tic--

Activated by a desire
to make a good impression.

I've never seen you around here before.
Are you an owner?

Oh, no. I'm here visiting
my friend Valerie Ferrar.

Unfortunately, there was
a death in the family.

Her father was killed
by a horse.

Yeah, I know-- the
incident with a stallion.

Oh, you were here?
Yes.

Mr. Gillie,
I'm a magazine writer,

and I intended to do a piece
on Valerie's father--

you know, horses and horse people.
Perhaps I could help.

Well, I was hoping
you'd offer.

Did you know Valerie's father?

Well, uh, slightly.

He was one of those, uh,
dreary characters...

who was always
hanging around racetracks.

More interested in making a quick
profit than improving the breed.

Oh. Do you have any idea why Mr. Ferrar
went in the stall? I'm afraid not.

I have to speak to the racing
secretary for a moment.

Uh, perhaps we could
continue this over breakfast.

Oh, well, if you have time.

I do. And even if I
didn't, I'd make time.

Okay.

Let me give you a hand.
Thank you.

Me name's Ryan--
Kevin Ryan.

Sabrina Duncan. Sabfina?
Has a ring to it.

Tell me, Sabrina,
why would a fine lady such as yourself...

be wanting to
exercise racehorses?

Well, I'm working up to becoming a jockey.
How about you?

Oh, I'll be owning
me own stable someday.

At least, that's why I come
to this land of opportunity.

Do I detect a note
of discontent?

In Ireland
I was a man respected.

Here, horses are
a rich man's sport.

Without money or connections,
a real horseman has no chance.

But I'll be owning
me own stable yet,

and I'll make you
a lady jockey.

What say you to that,
Sabrina Duncan?

Well, the luck
of the Irish be with you, Kevin Ryan.

Hmm.
Tell me something.

Which one's the horse
that killed a guy?

Oh, the owners
took him home.

Was he really a killer?

Aye, they can all
be killers.

Big, powerful beasts, they are.
You have to know how to handle 'em.

Did he have a white spot
in his left cheek?

- Uh, he had no cheek marks.
- Did you know the man who was killed?

Well, sort of.
He was a friend of Mr. Roper's.

A real regular
at the rail.

Name of...
Les Fem“.

Nice fella.

I heard he was.
It was awful.

Take care of that for me?
With pleasure.

Thank you very much.
Nice to talk to you.

I don't like
the sound of that.

White marking
on the lower left cheek?

But she was talking
about the stallion.

It was the right marking.

It was the wrong horse.

I still don't like it.

'Twas a strange
coincidence, perhaps,

but we'd best
find the truth.

Either she's here to learn
or to poke into our business.

Maybe I'd better find out
if the pretty lady jockey...

is really serious
about her riding, eh?

Hey, hup.
Thank you.

All right. Now remember,
Sabrina, you're being clocked,

so get all you can out of him.
Yes, sir.

Ready, Miss Duncan?
I think so, Mr. Ryan.

Hey, there's Sabrina.

There they go.

Bosley, he's crowding her.

Ho.

What's the matter
with you?

You've got a lot to learn,
love, but you'll make it.

Yeah, well, you do that again,
and you won't.

Well, 1-- I thought you'd
enjoy watching the workouts from up here.

Well, it's great, but from the looks of
it, this place isn't even open yet.

The chef came in especially to
make brunch for us-- as a favor.

You're kidding.
Oh, I never kid about a chivalrous gesture.

Well, my compliments
to the chef,

and the gentleman the chef
does favors for. Thank you.

Must be fabulous to be
born into a dynasty.

What's the expression?
"To the manor born"?

Why are you laughing?

No, no. My father
was a thick-handed stable boy.

A lucky break got him started,
and he parlayed it into a fortune.

I'm to the money born,
not the manor.

You must be very proud
of your father--

a self-made man and all.

Well, he made the fortune,
but he didn't make much of himself,

and all we ever had in common
was the money.

You know,

I remember how his fingernails
were always dirty.

And to the day
he died, he--

he never understood
why it bothered me.

Never understood that.

You- You know, Kelly,

there's a--

a feeling about racing that men
like my father never understand.

Oh, I know they work off it,
and they live at it,

but without ever sensing...

its grace and elegance.

You know what I mean?

But they know horses
and probably love them.

Oh, they manufacture horses...
and merchandise them.

What is it?

I was just looking at
that lady exercise boy.

Is she in trouble?

On Perdition?
Not likely.

A little fractious prancing is
about as liver as he ever gets.

Come on. Breakfast.

Thank you.
There you go.

Thank you.

Well, he wants to run.
I think he's a winner.

No. No, he's got
all the motions,

but unfortunately he just
does not have the heart.

Gosh, I find that
hard to believe.

Then I'll believe it
for both of us.

Where you been?

You were supposed to be
here to work Perdition. So?

So? The girl worked him.

Gates, you mustn't get
in such a dither.

Remember your weak ticker.

It's my future you're
fooling around with.

From now on, you be here.
You work that horse.

You understand?

Come on, bucko.

Hiya. You and Perdition
looked great out there.

Gosh, I love him,
but I seem to be the only one who does.

What do you mean?
Well, Roper says he hasn't got any heart.

It's like we're talking
about two different horses.

Wait a minute.

What did I just say? Huh?

Well, uh, isn't there such a thing
as switching horses in races?

Well, yeah, but I mean,
not very likely today.

The racing commission watches
those things very carefully.

Hang on a minute. Valerie said the
morning her father was killed...

he noticed something odd
about Perdition--

something about the way
he was behaving.

Then he wrote down that thing about
the white spot on the left cheek.

- Did Perdition have that marking?
- No!

But maybe he should have.

Oh, I see your point.

Okay. I'll have Charlie do a
computer readout on Perdition.

All the paperwork-- his
breeding, his age, ef cefera.

While you're at it, why don't
you see if Gates and Ryan

figure into Perdition's
background?

Yeah, well, that might take some time.
Then let's speed it up.

Why don't you try to buy Perdition?
That could prove interesting.

Ready for the coffee I promised you?
Yes, I am.

Mr. Gates, these people need some
information I'm not able to give them.

Maybe you could help 'em.
Very nice to meet you. Yeah, same here.

Nice meeting you.
Bye-bye. Bye-bye.

Howdy, Mr. Gates.
My name is Bosley.

This is Miss Munroe.
We're buyers in from Arizona.

- What can I do for you?
- Well, that, uh-- The colt.

The one that the girl was
working out-- Perdition.

Perdition? He's a dog.

Oh? Well, he didn't
work out like a dog.

Well, he's a morning glory.

Works out fast,
and then he runs slow.

His record's terrible.

- Good. Then maybe we can get him cheap.
- "Get him"?

I think my client would
go about $10,000.

You mean, buy him?
Or claim him.

As a matter of fact, my people
would, I'm sure, go 12,000.

Wait a minute, folks.
This is dog meat you're talking about.

Then I would think the owners would
be pleased to get a firm offer.

- Well, I don't know.
- Can I talk to them?

Well, you'll have to talk to the trainer.
That's Thad Roper.

Um, the owners are out of town
for a few days.

I think they are. Yeah,
I'm sure-- I'm sure they're out of town.

Well, listen.
I got work to do.

Yeah, thanks a lot.

You know, around here it's
very hard to buy a bad horse.

I noticed.

You're staring at me.
Hmm.

I'm wondering.
Well, what are you wondering?

If you'd be
after me job.

Why? Because I worked
Perdition today?

You know I've been working him.
Uh-huh.

Now, I don't mind if it's
a lady jockey you'd be,

but don't be using me
as a stepping-stone.

Oh, no, no, no.
I wouldn't do that.

Why is Perdition
so underrated?

Hmm. So the darlin' kicked up his heels
and run like the wind for you, did he?

He ran like a champ.

Well, Sabrina, me love,

now, all horses have their
up days and their down days.

Oh, he's a will-o-the-wisp.

If you clocked him today and bet
him tomorrow, you'd lose your shirt.

Yeah, but if you clocked him
yesterday and you bet him today--

Huh.

Thank you.
Well, now,

that's what makes
a horse race, isn't it?

Are you through, love? Mm-hmm.

Thank you very much.

Gates?
What do you think you're doing?

What does it look
like I'm doing?

Now, look, bucko.

We agreed. You can't drink.
Because when you drink you get drunk.

When you get drunk your mouth works too
much, and your ticker works too little.

That's a little bit
too dicey for me taste.

That girl rode that colt.
She knows!

I don't think so!

That's stupid.

Look at you, you poltroon, you.
You're shakin' in your boots over nothin'.

Those buyers from Arizona-- They saw
her ride him. Now they want to buy him.

If you want to be
killing yourself,

you wait till
after the horse race.

Okay.
Okay, Bos.

Get again.
"5-7-9-7."

Got it? Yeah.
Well, that should tell us something.

Listen, couldn't these tattoos be
forged like the wrestlers used to do?

I guess they could,
but I think the important thing is that

white mark on the left cheek,

which is definitely
not there.

Well, we'll check this number.
Okay.

- See you later.
- Let me know, huh?

Oh, ho, hello.

Okay, nosy lady jockey.

Couldn't leave it alone,
could y--

If Gates hadn't had that heart
attack, I think I'd be dead now.

Did he
say anything when he came at you?

He said something about "lady
jockey can't leave it alone,"

so I figure maybe he could have
been talking about Perdition.

Indeed he could. Your hunch was right.
Perdition is a twin.

A twin, Charlie?
Are you sure?

Mm-hmm. The other foal was
sold to a rancher in Mexico.

Well, where does that
lead us?

Wait a minute. When I had lunch with
Ryan, I noticed his wallet.

- It could have been Mexican.
- Like maybe he just bought it in Mexico?

Yeah, but you don't have to be in
Mexico to buy a Mexican wallet.

Unless you're there
to pick up a horse.

- Uh-huh. A twin horse.
- Perdition's twin.

Who does not have a white spot on his
left cheek, and who runs like a champ.

You know, it is possible.
Even the racing commission...

would have a hard time telling the
difference if the horses were twins.

I agree, Bosley. But before we
tell the track stewards, we'll need proof.

So let's find out when and how
the switch was made.

It better be soon, because Perdition
is due to race day after tomorrow.

Hi, Mr. Roper.

Hello.
Don't you have a workout?

Oh, no, sir.
I'm finished.

- Mr. Roper, you mind if I
ask you a question? - No.

I was wondering, uh, what is it
makes you so sure Perdition's a dud?

I'm his trainer.

Whose idea was it to send him up north?
The owner's?

Well, Ryan suggested it,
and I agreed.

Figured he'd run better
in easier company.

- He didn't.
- Ah. Did you drive him up?

No, I had Gates take him up. I guess
I figured it would be a wasted trip--

broken-down horse
and a drunk with a bad heart.

Why do you ask?

No reason.
Just curious.

Thanks.
Got work to do.

See you later.

- Yeah?
- Kris, it's me.

Gates drove Perdition to Golden
Gate on the inland route.

Now, I found a receipt
in Roper's books...

from Fred's Cabins
in Foreman's Cove,

so Gates must have stayed there
one night on his way back.

Well, finding Fred's Cabins in Foreman's
Cove shouldn't be too difficult.

But finding Perdition--
I don't know.

That might not be easy. I mean,
maybe they just destroyed the horse.

No, no, no. I don't think so.
Look, it's a good game.

You run Perdition.
He loses, so the odds go against him.

Then you run the ringer,
and you really pull it in. Sweet plan.

- I'll say. Good luck.
- Okay. Bye-bye.

Well,
let's try and find Fred's Cabins.

How far is
it to Foreman's Cove?

About 60 miles. Okay.
Gates stayed there one night...

when he brought Perdition back
from San Francisco.

Maybe he left Perdition
somewhere near Foreman's Cove.

Make sense?
Yeah. It makes sense.

You don't say that
with much enthusiasm.

It makes sense.
It's still a long shot. Yeah.

Hi there.

Two rooms or one?

Well, actually, we need
some information.

TV's extra.
No water beds.

We're looking for a horse.
I got no horses.

- Well, actually, we're looking for a man.
- Make up your mind.

You looking for a man
or a horse?

Okay. We're looking
for a man with a horse.

Stopped by here, oh,
a couple of nights ago. Six days ago.

Who's telling it?
You or her?

This man was maybe looking for
a place to pasture this horse.

- No maybes about it.
- Say again?

- He was looking for a place to pasture
his horse. - Oh. Did he find one?

Why does he keep interrupting?

Button up, Bosley.
Did he find one? Nope.

No. I found him one.
Gini's Place.

Gini's Place? Three miles up the road.
She boards horses.

Fred, you're a prince.

Nice talking to you.

It was a slice of heaven.

Kevin, I need
to tell you something,

but I don't want you to tell
anybody else, all right?

You have me word.

I think Gates tried to kill me.
What?

I said, I think Gates
tried to kill me.

He had been drinking,
but I think he knew what he was doing.

He said something about
"I wouldn't leave it alone."

Did you tell this
to the police?

What for? They can't arrest him.
The man is dead.

Besides, I couldn't think of any
reason that he wanted to hurt me.

Could you?

It was probably
just the whiskey talking.

I don't think so.
I think it was something about Perdition.

Now, you know Gates never
wanted me to exercise him.

- You must have noticed that.
- Can't say that I did, love.

Now, old Gates
was a sour sort.

Not to speak ill
of the dead,

but he had something
eating at him...

which would make him
strange at times.

Yeah, and it was something
about Perdition.

You keep coming back to the
subject of that horse, love,

and it's beginnin'
to make me wonder.

About what?

About you, love.

Hi.
Hi.

How about some coffee?
Mmm! Good choice.

I just made some fresh-- Ah.

Yesterday.
Oh. You must be Gini.

- Every Iovin' inch of me. - Uh-huh. Well,
Gini, we were talking to Fred down the road.

Hmm. That's hard to do.
What?

- Talk to Fred.
- Oh, you, uh, noticed.

- Hmm. - Listen,
Gini. We're looking for a racehorse.

- Fred don't keep no racehorses.
- Oh, no. I know.

An employee of ours was supposed
to pasture this racehorse for us.

Yes, but unfortunately,
he died...

before he could tell us
where he left it.

Uh, yes, and Fred
had sent him here.

Oh, I know.
He was about that tall,

a ruddy complexion
and not bad looking.

Of course,
not as good looking as you are.

Uh, yeah,
that's the guy.

You say he passed on?

Yes, a heart attack.

Oh, what a pity. Thought he was gonna
come back at the end of the month.

- To pick up the racehorse? - Mm-hmm.
I would have liked to have seen him again.

- Oh, that is sad.
- Well, win some, lose some.

- Is the colt here now? - Oh,
yeah. Right out there. Go help yourself.

Ah.
Thanks.

There you go.

Bingo.

Perdition-- the real article.

What time is it?

Uh, 3:15.

And what time does
the fifth race go off?

I told you, 4:00.

What are we gonna do with
Perdition now that we've got him?

We'll talk that over with Charlie
when we get to the office.

I told you never to contact me,
except by telephone to my ranch.

Now, this had better
be important.

It could be.

I thought it better not to be keeping
it to myself, but to let you know.

- You'll be the judge.
- Get to it, boy. What the hell is it?

The name's Ryan.

Mr. Kevin Ryan.

All right, Mr. Ryan. But that
doesn't remove the odor of a stable.

Now you just tell me why
you got me here.

That exercise girl--
Sabfina?

She's been asking questions
about Perdition,

like she's knowing
more than she should.

She also told me
Gates tried to kill her.

Kill her? When?

He was tryin'
when he died.

He saw her with Perdition
and he went after her.

Do you know how much
he told her?

I don't know.

But I know she's been
asking about the horse...

and Wham might
know about him“.

No curious girl is gonna
throw a wrench in things now,

not after I've gone this far.

And I think
you should know,

the young lady you're
seeing, that Kelly Garrett?

She was with Sabrina
the first day.

What the hell
are you talking about?

The exercise girl and Miss Garrett?
Highly unlikely.

Miss Garrett is a lovely,
refined lady,

and if they were together,
it was just a coincidence.

Kevin?

Don't let that girl
foul us up.

If you can't handle it,

let me know.

Uh, before you go,

I'd be having
a personal word with you.

You're no better
than I am.

And don't be forgettin'
I know the truth of you.

You're all words
and fancy dress.

Now that you've mismanaged that
breeding ranch of yours into bankruptcy,

there's nothing left inside
to sustain you.

Man to man,
you never were me equal.

We got a long way
to go together.

We'd better make
the best of it.

The exercise girl, Sabrina--

If you have to,

kill her.

All right.
We agree that Perdition's trainer,

Thad Roper,
is probably not involved.

So where does that leave us?

Ordinarily,
I'd go directly to the officials,

but in this case
we have nothing to offer...

except Perdition
and a dead witness.

We still don't know
who killed Les Ferrar,

or how many are involved
in the whole scheme.

The officials could only
disqualify Perdition's twin...

and launch
an investigation.

Well, I'm afraid that could drive the guilty
underground, and they'd never be found.

I agree, Charlie. As a matter of fact,
I think we would do the racetrack,

the racing commission and
the public a great service...

if the real Perdition
ran in that race.

Yeah, that way
the race would be legal,

and maybe we'll get a chance to
find out who's calling the shots.

Right. We just watch out for anyone who
starts putting big money on Perdition.

Well, partner, looks like we
do some fancy horse-trading.

Or is it
horse-switching?

Coming in second
by a length and one-half.

Now Ginger Place
comes into third by a neck-

Ginger Place, Misty Babe,
lee Cream Social and Ladies Only.

As they head
into the back stretch,

Pablo's Pride by a neck--

Whew!
We did it.

No, we undid it.

Come on.
Let's get to the track.

Sabrina!

As soon as you get
Perdition to the paddock,

you can have the rest
of the day off. Okay.

He's really looking good
today, isn't he?

Indeed he is.
Yeah.

Too bad he can't...
run like he looks.

Well--

See you later, huh?

Here comes Ruthie's
Cooking on the outside.

It's Pablo's Pride by a neck, Ruthie's
Cooking by a length, and Misty Babe.

And it's Ruthie's Cooking
across the finish line.

I can't believe I won.

Seems you're a good handicapper.
Not really.

No? No. The only reason
I bet Ruthie's Cooking...

is because I once had a
friend named Ruth Cook.

Well, whatever works.

Oh, look at those odds.

Ten-to-one.
How much will I collect?

Here. Let me see.

One hundred and 10 dollars.
Oh, boy!

Well, where are you gonna take us
tonight, big winner?

You name it.
You staked me.

Waiter?

Ladies and gentlemen,
betting for the fifth race,

the event for three-year-olds at a
distance of a mile and five-eighths,

will begin in one minute.

Ladies and gentlemen,
again let me direct your attention...

[0 our newly installed,
computer-operated TV monitors.

Five hundred on number six.

Five hundred
to win on number six.

Thanks.

Any old friends in the
fifth you'd like to bet?

This is the race Thad Roper's
colt Perdition is in--

number six.

Cecil R. has possibilities.
Cecil R., huh?

Well, if he's an old
boyfriend, I'm warning you,

I've got very jealous bones
in my body.

The fifth race
is an exacta wagering event,

Probable exacts? purses- - .

Are seen in our TV monitors.

Ladies and gentlemen,
bet early.

Don't be shut out.

Ladies and gentlemen, post time
for the fifth race is five minutes.

Would you think about us
until I come back?

Charlie got us a backup.
Do you see the two guys at the bar?

They're detectives.
So if you see anybody...

putting any heavy money down on
Perdition, just let 'em know.

Kris and I are gonna
go down to the pay windows.

Maybe we'll get
an indication down there.

Okay.

Hey.

Post lime for the
fifth race is four minutes.

Now, why do you suppose
Mr. Gillie is waiting around?

Well, it looks like
he's waiting...

till just before
the windows close...

to make a bet.

- So?
- 80? Don't you see?

I mean, if you're smart,

and you wanna make
a big bet on along shot,

you wait till
the last minute,

so that you won't lower
the odds noticeably...

and tip the crowd.
Carter Gillie.

Ladies and gentlemen,
the horses are approaching the gate--

We'll soon know.

for the start
of the fifth race.

There is still time to place
wagers an the fifth race.

Final odds are visible
on our new TV monitors.

You still have time to bet.

The horses are at the gate
for the fifth race.

Did you see that, Bosley?
He bet a fortune.

All on number six--
Perdition.

Sorry I've been so long.
Here's your $110. Oh.

Since I'm not
betting this race,

I'll root
for your horse.

His name wasn't
Cecil R., I hope.

Jasper Quilt
has broken through the gate.

There will be a slight delay.

For a man who knows
all about horses,

aren't you taking a chance
on a long shot like Perdition?

A strong hunch--
inspired by you.

When I saw you standing by
the rail that first morning,

a line from Othello
came into my head.

"Excellent wretch!

"Perdition catch my soul,

but I do love thee."

The flag is up.
They're off and running.

Cocoa Dream takes the lead
with Jasper Quilt second...

on the inside by a length and a half.
I'm gonna check with Sabrina.

Maybe she's seen some heavy
bettors on Perdition. Okay.

Okay. See you later.
Cecil R. by half a length,

followed by Nunother,
Lightenbrite, Tuesday Morning,

who's quickly passed Perdition,
who fades back--

It's still Cocoa Dream first by a
length as they go into the far turn.

A distance
of a mile and five-eighths.

Jasper Quilt is second
by two and a half lengths.

Nunother third by a length.
In fourth place, Lightenbrite,

with Twice Johnny moving up
and Cecil R,,

Perdition and Tuesday Morning as they
enter the stretch for the first time.

It's Cocoa Dream first
by a length.

Jasper Quilt second
by two and a half lengths.

Nunofher third by a length and a half.
Lightenbrile, Twice Johnny,

- Tuesday Morning, Cecil R'.
- and Perdition.

It's Cocoa Dream
by a length and a quarter.

Jasper Quilt second
by two lengths.

Nunother third by a length
followed by Twice Johnny.

Lightenbrife, Tuesday Morning, Cecil R.
and far back is Perdition.

Tuesday Morning is making a
move as the y approach the turn.

It's Cocoa Dream first
by a length.

Jasper Quilt second
by two and a half lengths.

Tuesday Morning moves
into third place by a nose.

Nunother, Twice Johnny,
Cecil R. and Perdition--

Jasper Quilt makes a move
on Cocoa Dream.

As they come out of the turn
they're stringing out.

Jasper Quilt {hen Cocoa Dream
fighting for the lead.

Tuesday Morning, Twice Johnny,
Nunother, Lightenbrite, Cecil R...

and far back, Perdition.

Into the stretch it's Cocoa
Dream and Jasper Quilt.

Jasper Quilt--

- Uh-uh.
- Well, now.

What might you be doing
with a gun, Sabrina?

Well, the game's over, Kevin,
and it looks like you lose.

And how do you know
I was even playing?

I know you have a pocketful
of tickets on Perdition,

and the horse that's up there running's
losing, 'cause it really is Perdition.

Ladies and gentlemen,
please hold your tickets...

till the results
are declared official.

Well, it seems...

like you've got it all
figured out, Sabrina.

And what's the game now,
Sabrina, me love?

Hold it!

Me hunch was right
about you all along,

but those pretty brown eyes
got in the way.

We better go.

That was the real Perdition.

There are two detectives
over there at the bar.

Please. You have to
understand why I did it.

It takes a great deal of money to
live the way I have always lived--

the only way
I know how to live.

Oh, Kelly,
how did they find out?

A little white spot
that nobody saw...

except Les Ferrar-

that dreary character
that hung around racetracks.

He left a note.

It was your $10.

Mr. Gillie.

Keep the change.

Congratulations, Angels. You've
chalked up another one in fine style.

Now, before you're briefed on
the new assignment by Bosley,

I'd--
No. Oh, I'm ready.

Uh, what's the question?

I was saying,
I'd like to offer a word of caution.

Playing the ponies,
as they say,

is an intoxicating pastime,
right?

Oh, yes. Oh, yes.
Uh, most definitely.

One to which we could
easily become addicted.

No argument there,
I'm sure.

Oh, no doubt about it.
No doubt about it. Absolutely.

So I suggest a rule:
No horses during office hours.

Earphone! Earphone! Oh!

Leading to a...
radio! Aha! Radio!

Bosley, shame on you.

Now in the
stretch, they're neck and neck.

And at the wire
it's Corollary by a nose,

Ostracize by a neck
and Somnambulator.

Bosley, who did you have?
Did you win?

Fourth, Barefoot Dancer.

That's it. The bartender told me he
got it right from the horse's mouth.

J