Original subtitles

♪ Some walk by night ♪

♪ Some fly by day ♪

♪ Nothing could change you ♪

♪ Set and sure of the way ♪

♪ There is the sun and moon ♪

♪ They sing their own sweet tune ♪

♪ Watch them when dawn is due ♪

♪ Sharing one space ♪

♪ We'll walk by night, babe ♪

♪ We'll fly by day ♪

♪ Moonlighting strangers ♪

♪ Who just met on the way ♪

Hey, blondie-blonde. There are better ways to go blind.

Come on. You've been locked up in here with these numbers all day long.

Haven't you heard? Somewhere out there is a happy hour with our name on it.

I'm not done yet. You go ahead.

We always go for a drink on Friday.

No, we don't. And it's Monday.

It is? Yow.

Talk about a lost weekend.

Wonder if I went home.

Do I still have the same shirt on?

Hey, wait a minute.

I must have gone home. I shaved.

- You really like doin' this, don't you? - No, I don't.

- But somebody has to do it. - No, no, no. You do.

I can tell. Gives you a feeling of power.

And why not? Numbers make the cash flow.

Cash makes the wheels turn, the smokes stack,

thighs part.

- Addison, my God! - Isn't that redundant?

Do you know what this means?

- We're ahead. - You're kiddin'!

The two of us? Together?

Like Ray Milland and Rosey Grier in that awful movie?

$2,035.76!

In the black!

Curses! Does that mean we can save the farm

and get Mom the heart operation she needs?

It's okay if we only save the farm.

We made money! The first money we've made!

"Money we've made." That sounds so much nicer than...

money we've spent or money we've lost.

It sure does.

Wow, you are so beautiful when you get fiscal.

Get your hand off my behind.

Is that your behind?

Is that my hand?

You know, that's what I like about this place. You learn something new every day.

- Would you get serious? - Maddie...

I just had my hand on your behind. If I get any more serious,

they're gonna move us to cable.

Help me think.

We've got to do something with this money.

Re-invest it in the agency,

make a capital improvement

- to increase our productivity. - I've got it!

Matching crocodile briefcases.

"Briefcase-i"?

Wonder if it's gonna be hard to find matching crocodiles.

Maybe an advertising campaign.

Or...

a new stereo for the company car. I can see it now.

LaserDisc, graphic equalizer, 300 watts per channel.

I'm gettin' more productive just thinkin' about it.

- David. - Maddie, I'm half serious.

- What else is new? - I mean it.

You know, there is nothing wrong

with enjoying your success.

Rewarding yourself for your victories.

In fact, I think that's what sets us apart

from the Communist nations of the world.

Not large bodies of water or major mountain ranges?

Think about the men who made American great.

The Rockefellers. The Kennedys. The Ewings. You think every time

they hit a gusher, they went out and bought new drilling equipment? Hell, no!

They went out and gambled, got drunk, ran around with women. And what did it get 'em?

- Poverty. - Damn straight. Greatest motivator in the free world.

But you do what you want. You put the money in the bank. Re-invest.

Let it earn interest. Get comfortable.

Stop blazing trails for America and the free world.

Or you consider my plan,

and you put Jacuzzis in the executive bathroom.

It's your country. Do what you want.

Maddie Hayes' office. One desk, under God, indivisible--

- Gimme that. - Big-screen TV. We put it in the reception area--

- This is Maddie Hayes. - Clients could watch it while they're waitin' for us.

- Yes, officer? - Serve snacks during Monday Night Football?

- Questioning? - Develop a whole new clientele?

Yes, I'll be right there.

Want to talk about it? What am I doing? I never ask.

Doesn't look good. Mysterious fortune turns up. Police call.

I just want you to know I'm behind you 100%.

Maddie, why'd you do it?

Oh, I get it. You're shielding somebody. Well, kid,

I guess you gotta play your string right out to the very end.

Want me to hide the booty? Oh, tough guy, eh?

Well, the worse thing that can happen is they give you the gas chamber.

Which is not as bad as the electric chair. They shave your head for that.

Maddie, come on. I'm runnin' out of material. Will you tell me what's going on?

I don't know what's going on. The police want me for questioning.

- Do you want me to go with ya? - No.

- You want to think about it? - Listen...

I'll probably go home right afterwards. Uh...

if I get any messages, call me. Otherwise I'll see you in the morning.

- Right, Miss Hayes. - Maddie?

Yes!

Executive bonus?

Just a thought.

You know him?

He knew you.

What exactly did he die of?

Bullet through the heart.

It appears to be self-inflicted.

We were hoping you could shed some light on that.

Ever seen it before?

How would I have seen it?

You never sat here?

I've never been here.

You know Charles?

Charles who?

The title of the painting is Charles' Treasure.

I'm assuming you're the treasure.

Look, Lieutenant, I'm sorry, but I've never heard of Phillip Wright.

I've never seen this painting before.

I've never been in this place before.

Don't be sorry.

I'm just trying to figure out why an artist

who struggled so hard for so long

checks out just when things are starting to go his way.

I know that, Lieutenant, but...

people get depressed for a lot of reasons.

No argument.

It's just, when he died,

he was painting your portrait.

I mean, there he was, pistol in one hand,

paintbrush in the other.

He just finished.

Paint was still wet.

He called the gallery to let 'em know it was complete.

What are you saying?

I guess I'm saying

I wanted to hear that

you two knew each other.

That he contacted you or tried to.

He wrote. He called.

And, even though he was an artist of some repute, you said no.

So he did what he could to impress you.

He...

painted your portrait.

And, when you remained unimpressed...

he killed himself.

You make all that up, or somebody help you?

I was a creative writing major in college.

I admit it. I have an overactive imagination.

You sure you never heard of him?

I never heard of him.

Another great theory bites the dust.

Still...

- It must feel nice. - What?

Well, he clearly adored you.

There goes that old imagination again.

Oh, come on, Miss Hayes.

You don't paint like that unless you adore someone.

It must feel odd.

Finding out that someone you didn't even know was...

staring at your pictures for days,

weeks, even months.

He painted your portrait.

The last portrait he would ever paint.

That, by tomorrow morning,

it'll be for sale in a gallery.

Probably end up hangin' over somebody's bar.

Or in someone's den.

Now, Miss Hayes...

good night.

- It's her! - And where have you been, young lady?

Sorry. She just walked in. I have been calling

every prison in the state.

- Sorry I'm late. - Oh! Sorry you're late.

Do you realize how worried we've been?

DiPesto's been answering the phone in prose.

Excuse me.

You want to talk about it?

It's okay. I'll talk about it.

Well, for what it's worth,

you don't look any worse for wear.

Hair is combed.

Makeup's in place.

No visible scars or contusions. Of course...

they usually only mark the hard-to-see places.

You wouldn't happen to need anybody to check those hard-to-see places, would ya?

A man I never met killed himself last night.

I know how you feel.

A woman I never met had sex

with a basketball team last night.

You're right. It's not the same thing.

The police took me to his loft downtown.

There were pictures of me everywhere.

Hundreds of them.

Pictures of me modeling.

Pictures of me from the society pages.

Pictures I don't even remember being taken.

My whole career, my whole life,

was on that man's walls.

It was so odd.

Everywhere he looked,

everywhere he turned, he saw me.

No wonder he killed himself.

He was an artist, David.

And not a starving one either.

They showed me this portrait he was painting when he died.

It was a portrait of me.

A portrait of me.

They said he finished the portrait,

then he shot himself.

Talk about temperamental artists.

You're really upset about this, aren't ya?

Maddie, you didn't even know the man.

What if he cared for me?

What if he loved me?

That has nothing to do with you.

That is not your responsibility.

- Now, did he try and contact you? - No.

- Did you reject him in any way? - How could I reject him?

- He didn't contact me. - Did you laugh the first time he got naked in front of you?

Addison! Why do I bother?

You're clean as a whistle, Maddie. Guilt-free.

I'm talking about romance with a man

who thinks that love...

is something you pay 25 cents to see in a private booth!

Private booth? What are you talkin' about?

This is the age of video.

Call me cynical, but I can think of more romantic gestures

than painting a picture then blowing your brains out.

I'm talking about something ethereal. I love that's...

- unrequited. - I don't care what you call it.

Killing yourself because you can't get a date with the homecoming queen

- is not the act of a sane person. - Is that so?

Yes, that's so. Otherwise, every kid would be dead

before he graduated high school.

Except the one with the most expensive car.

I'm gonna take a walk.

I'm gonna take a drive.

I don't know what I'm gonna do.

- Did I say something wrong? - Do you ever say anything right?

One little suicide, and there's no talkin' to you.

My goodness.

Ladies and gentlemen,

boys and girls, dogs and cats,

a boss lady who can balance my budget anytime,

a woman who proves blondes do have more fun (grunts)...

a lady whose bottom line never sags (grunts)...

Miss Madelyn "I Can Make a Profit Anywhere" Hayes!

Let me have one!

What is going on?

- A meeting! - A meeting?

Yeah. A meeting. You know.

Wall Street holds 'em. Hollywood takes 'em.

Secretaries make 'em. Bosses cancel 'em.

Kinda like talkin' to yourself, only with a gang.

And what a meeting is was. Ooh. We got an agenda.

We got minutes. We got coffee. We got Danish.

- What is this all about? - I'm glad you ax-ed me that. Randy?

The purpose of this morning's session--

and I might add, it has been an extremely productive one--

has been to brainstorm.

To what-storm?

Funny. Hurtful, but very funny.

No, Maddie. The question that we have been tryin' to postulate

and hypothesize is, what are we gonna do with all that money?

What money?

What a kidder. What money?

You know what money. Our money.

The profit statement. The plus column.

- The bottom line. - David.

Now, we got Miss DiPesto over here

combing the mail-order catalog.

- Oh, my. - We got O'Neill

scouring the classifies.

- He is? - And we got my main potato,

Jergenson, has agreed to cruise for garage sales this weekend.

Let me have one!

May I see you in my office for a moment?

It's okay. We're her first meeting.

- Yes? - Yes, what?

You asked me to come in here.

Uh-huh. Yes, I did.

Yes, I did. I spent the money.

You spent the money?

All of it?

Well...

okay.

It's your store.

Your money.

What'd ya get?

Excuse me?

What did you get?

Now, I'm sure, whatever it is,

is something that's for the good of the company.

What'd you blow it on? Stocks? Bonds?

Elvis memorabilia?

Well, I believe I...

made a sound and prudent investment.

- In what? - I invested it in...

... art.

Could you turn up the volume a little, please?

Art.

Did you say "art"?

Art.

Could you be a little more specific?

- I purchased a painting. - A painting?

A painting. A painting I feel sure

will increase in value with the years.

- I see. A painting of what? - A painting of what?

- A painting of what? - Of...

- ... a thing. - Could you be a little more specific?

A pretty thing.

An animal thing, a vegetable thing, or a mineral thing?

- An animal thing. - Little cat. Big eyes.

- No. - A boy and his dog.

What difference does it make?

A blonde and her vanity.

It's my money, Addison, and I can do

- anything I want with it. - Wait a second. Let me get this straight.

One of the most photographed women in the world goes out and spends the only money

she ever made doing anything other than saying "cheese" and buys...

- I don't have to talk to you! - lo and behold, another picture of herself.

- Out of my way. - Maddie will you just tell me why?

I don't know why. All I know is he chose to paint me.

Me, David. Not a landscape. Not a barn. Not a bowl of fruit.

- Let's not hold that against him. - He spent weeks,

months, painting it.

The last moments of his life finishing it.

I can't let someone else buy it.

Put it in their den or...

over their bar.

Surely you can understand that.

Well, I don't really care if you can understand it or not.

The point is that the money belongs to the company,

and the company belongs to me.

And I can choose to do anything

I want with it.

Or I may choose to do nothing with it.

Or I may choose to flush it down the executive commode.

But, whatever I choose, it'll be my choice. Is that clear?

Alles klar, Herr Kommissar.

Good.

Then this conversation...

- is over. - Not quite.

- I have one more question. - What?

Next windfall we get, can I stick a statue of myself

in the lobby?

Stick it, Addison.

Get away from that door!

I have finished this conversation!

You asked for it.

Excuse me.

Miss Hayes? This is Charles Wright.

Miss Hayes, forgive me for barging in like this--

Excuse me. Charles Wright?

I'm Phillip Wright's brother.

Oh, my goodness.

I'm so sorry.

Won't you come in?

Please.

I'm so sorry to hear about your brother.

I... really don't know why I'm here.

I, uh...

I got home late last night.

As soon as I got the wire...

I've been out of the country for a while.

I went to the gallery.

They told me about...

Charlie's Treasure.

I guess you figured out by now that...

I'm Charlie.

You fight with your brother, he paints a picture for you.

Philly and I hadn't even spoken to each other for a long time.

Would you like to see it? The painting?

Is it here?

Well... no.

It's at my house.

But...

I want you to see it.

You don't even know me.

Mr. Wright and I will be at my house.

Yes, Miss Hayes.

He was in there for a minute and a half. How'd he do that?

I haven't hung it yet.

I haven't exactly decided where I want it.

My God, Phillip.

Makes me feel like crying.

You never met him.

You never sat for him.

My God, Phillip.

You've been very kind.

Where you going?

Excuse me?

I feel badly.

I know what you must be going through.

If you'd like some more time with the painting,

by yourself, feel free.

No. No, no, no. That's okay.

It's--it's not that I don't appreciate the, uh...

It's harder knowing that I'll...

probably never see it again.

You fight with somebody...

and, in the back of your mind, you say to yourself,

one of these days, I'm gonna have to attend to this.

And then one of these days, you find yourself in a hotel room...

trying to find American baseball scores

in Italian newspapers, and a cable comes.

Upside is that...

it's one less thing to attend to.

Downside is that, uh...

there's a lot of downside.

I always thought your voice was lower.

Excuse me?

In those commercials, you never spoke,

so I gave you my own voice, and...

it was lower. Huskier.

You also were not this nice.

Gave a lot of thought to those commercials.

Well, it wasn't the commercials.

It was you.

And I wasn't the only one.

I remember when I was 20, Philly was 19, we decided to do the...

starving student thing in-- in Europe, you know, with the...

the... hostels, French bread, the backpacks.

And I remember one night we were in Paris.

Cold as hell.

And we'd been together for six weeks.

So the hate level was very high.

And, I mean, it was Paris.

You don't want to be in Paris with your brother.

You want to be with...

Anyway (sighs), it was cold as hell and...

everywhere you look are these rich...

Parisian couples in their thick, beautiful, warm coats and...

they're hugging and holding each other.

And there we were.

Two guys in the City of Lights alone.

Walked back to the hotel.

A more depressing hotel, you couldn't imagine.

Walked across the lobby past a newsstand.

And there you were.

On the cover of...

I don't know which magazine.

and Philly just...

looked at you.

And then he turned to me and he said...

"home."

I just looked at him, and I said, "yeah."

Charles, I want you to have it.

What?

I want you to have it.

I want you to have it.

I think maybe he painted it for you.

Wait a second.

I don't even know you. You paid good money for it.

You're right. I own it.

But it doesn't belong to me.

Please.

Hello?

Miss Hayes?

Sorry to wake you in the middle of the night, but...

we have a little situation here.

I was wondering if you can come down and give us a hand.

Lieutenant, it's 2:00 in the morning.

I know that, Miss Hayes,

but I really think you'll want to see this.

Honestly, I've told you everything I know.

He just showed up at your office,

said he wanted to see the picture,

and you showed it to him-- a man you never met before.

He said he'd been out of the country. He said he just heard about

his brother's suicide, and he wanted to see his last work.

And you just gave him the picture.

- The man was grieving. - The man was lying.

Charles Wright is an international art thief.

He wasn't overseas.

He was up the river.

He'd been released from prison just hours before he came to see you.

Let's just hold it right there, shall we?

My client isn't answering any more of your questions.

You just can't burst in here like that.

Oh, no? Tell that to the writers.

Besides, how would you like me to burst in?

- Is this man your attorney? - You don't have to answer that.

- Yes. No! - How am I gonna help you if you won't take my advice?

- Who is this man? - The name's Addison.

David Addison. But you can call me Mr. Addison.

Mr. Addison is my business associate.

Well, you told me I had one call. This is who I called.

Would you like another one?

Excuse me, but it's 2:30 in the morning,

and I'd like to know why my colleague is being held

and why it isn't by me.

Charles Wright was found dead this evening.

The wounds appear to be self-inflicted, but in light of the circ--

You saying he killed himself?

Uh-huh.

He wasn't perusing a certain portrait

at the time, was he?

This must be one hell of a picture. What'd he do, pull a gun

- right in your living room? - He was found dead in his brother's loft.

Wait a minute. You lost me. How did he get into his brother's loft?

- That's what I'd like to-- - And how'd the painting get there?

- I gave it to him. - You what?

- I gave it to him. - You gave it to him?

- I gave it to him. - For?

- For free. - For free? Maddie, that was a $2,000 painting--

My $2,000, my painting to do with as I wish,

and I wished to give it to him.

How could I not give it to him?

It's Charlie's Treasure.

And he's Charlie.

Don't you see?

I didn't have any choice.

You should have seen the pain on his face.

Look. I don't know why those two men killed themselves,

and I don't know why Charles took the painting back to the loft.

But I will tell you what I do know.

That man loved his brother.

And his brother loved that painting,

and that's why I gave it to him.

He loved it so much, he removed some of the paint

to see what was underneath.

- He did what? - I'm sorry.

But we're clearly dealing with more than

just one brother painting a painting for another.

Yes. Well...

I'd like to go home now, David.

Of course. And you can have this back.

Thank you.

Just one more thing, Miss Hayes.

Two men have died over that painting,

one a convicted criminal.

And, until the coroner verifies these, uh...

suicides...

this case is still very much open.

So I'm gonna ask you not to leave town.

Has it ever occurred to you that the reason this town

is crawling with so many crooks

is because you never let 'em leave town?

That's it. I've said my piece.

- I'm sorry. - There's nothing to be sorry about.

- Okay. - Just because his brother turned out

not to be what he seemed to be...

Maddie, he was an art thief.

... doesn't mean anything else has changed.

I know in my heart of hearts

why Phillip Wright painted that portrait of me.

Mm-hmm.

When I think of him standing there painting,

finishing the portrait, consumed with sadness,

picking up the gun.

Pulling the trigger.

You love this, don't you?

Come on, Maddie. Admit it. You really think this is great.

I do not think this is great.

In fact, I find this terribly sad.

And just a little romantic, of course.

I don't know what you're talking about.

Oh, come on, Maddie. Admit it. Wouldn't you be just

a tad disappointed if you knew

that he didn't kill himself because of you?

That he shot himself because he couldn't pay his gas bill?

No, I wouldn't be disappointed.

And, besides, that's not what happened.

Phillip Wright died for me.

Yeah.

Right.

The lucky stiff.

What is that supposed to mean?

Oh, nothin'.

Just thinkin' about us poor slobs who live for you.

Now I know how a Jehovah Witness feels.

Thanks for walking me home, Mr. Addison.

I have nothing more to say to you!

Yeah, I know. For weeks now.

- When I do, I'll holler. - I'll be waiting.

David!

That was fast.

Oh, my goodness.

The Helen Keller look.

- I like it. - Who could have done this?

Where's the duchess?

You didn't tell me you were living with anybody.

- Where's the duchess? - Well, aren't you gonna introduce me?

I've gone through every room in this house.

I want the duchess.

And I want her now.

I don't even know who the duchess is.

Not who. What.

The painting, The Duchess.

I know it's here.

The only painting I know anything about

is this one, Charlie's Treasure.

And you're welcome to it.

Please.

Don't be offended. What's he know?

I was curator of the National Gallery Française for seven years.

Big deal. Your uncle probably got you the job.

Enough jokes!

I want that painting.

Now.

Where did Phillip tell you it was?

Phillip? I never met Phillip.

The first I heard of Phillip was the night he killed himself.

But he must have told you.

- You're "Charlie's treasure." - No!

I'm all confused.

It's a big club.

In the first place, what is The Duchess?

It's a very famous, very valuable painting,

17th century.

Worth three-quarters, maybe a million dollars.

Three years ago...

a Mr. Charles Wright called me.

Spends a lot of time in Paris.

We have mutual friends. Can we get together?

We do. And voilà.

A great friendship is born.

One night, we're high. Feeling good.

He says to me...

"Let's get The Duchess."

I had no idea what he meant.

"Steal it!" he says.

Charles had done this before.

But me, I'm a natural-born coward.

But I'm curator.

And he needs me to get in and out

of the museum, hm?

But he tells me he wants to include his brother.

Uh, an artist. Nobody knows him.

Now I start to get a little nervous.

Hm?

So I tell them...

if it's to be you two and me,

then I've got to hold the painting...

- until it cools. - Cools?

Yeah.

You can't just turn around and sell

a hot painting.

While the whole world

is looking for it? No.

You have to give it time to cool.

So, "fine," they said.

"You hold the painting. Go to Amsterdam. Sit with it.

And, when the time is right, you sell it, and we'll split the profits."

So now it's three years later.

A long three years.

I'm in Amsterdam.

Phillip's artistic career has begun to happen.

And Charles is arrested...

for trying to sell an unauthentic Ming vase

to some museum in Indiana.

Anyway, I manage to

strike a deal for The Duchess with a man from Kuwait.

The deal is closed. He gives me the money. I give him the painting.

And then we both discover that it's a forgery.

Painted by--

Phillip!

- Yeah. - So you rush back to America and kill him.

I rush back.

But I didn't kill anybody.

Phillip was already dead when I found him.

What about his brother?

Due out of prison the next day.

But I don't think he knew any more about it than I did.

No.

Phillip obviously knew where the painting was.

He also obviously knew someone was after him.

Now, my guess is that he left a note for his brother

that only his brother could understand.

I'm convinced

that Charlie's Treasure is that note.

What does it mean?

The portrait is of you.

You tell me.

- I don't know. I swear it. - But you must!

- I don't! I know where to--I-- - Where is it? Where?

- David? - I'm no good at this. I cheat at connect-the-dots.

I--I swear to you, I don't have a clue.

Did you check in that dresser?

Dresser?

That dresser--you mean that dresser actually exists?

Yes. In the loft.

I bet I know where we're goin'.

Upstairs.

Say the magic word.

Move or I'll kill you.

There you go.

Dead guy had hiccups?

Hey, I know her.

- Any idea what he's lookin' for? - A clue.

- Okay. Give me one. - Give me one what?

- Give me a clue what he's lookin' for. - A clue.

- I'm waiting. - For what?

To find out what the man is looking for!

The man is looking for a clue.

A clue, a clue, a clue.

- Gesundheit. - I found it!

It's a bill of lading.

For canvas storage.

What riveting news.

No, no, no, no.

This is great.

Phillip...

left this bill of lading...

in the dressing table...

and then did the painting...

to make sure that his brother...

would look for it there and find it.

The bill of lading is the address...

where the original is stored.

This all makes sense.

Charlie's Treasure

is a map to The White Duchess.

So what happens now?

I pick up my painting

and fly off to Amsterdam as quickly as I can.

No. I mean to us.

Oh, take heart, friends.

I meant what I said. I'm not a killer.

That doesn't mean...

that I can't start now, though.

Hm?

Mm.

Ah, yep.

If you'll do the honors.

Nice and tight.

Ouch!

There.

Let's see you in that pose that made you famous.

I'm sure somebody will come along...

and untie you, hm?

Someday.

Somehow.

Adieu.

Adieu.

I feel so stupid.

Gee.

You look so soft and supple.

It wasn't my portrait they were after at all.

It wasn't my picture they'd lie for,

that they'd die for.

Yeah.

That must come as a major disappointment.

Stupid painting.

Harry was right. It's nothing but a...

- David? - You rang?

David, how close am I to the pose in the picture?

Notwithstanding the bondage angle, which, to my taste,

adds appreciably to the pose's artistic allure,

I'd say you was right on the money, honey. Why?

Because I think I know where The White Duchess is.

It just so happens that I have a little leisure time on my hands right now.

You want to tell your old buddy Dave about it?

There's a reflection in the mirror.

A sign.

It says "Painting" with an arrow.

I think it's pointing to where "Charlie's treasure" is hidden.

Well, say something.

You slither great.

Don't take this the wrong way. This is just an honest question,

and it is no way meant to inhibit you, but...

what are you doin', and is it supposed to hurt?

I'm untying you.

Look at that! Just where I left 'em.

Now untie me.

Certainly.

Come here. I'll show you. Oh!

Bring the chair.

Sit down.

I love when you take control.

Little more to the right.

Ooh, that's good for me too.

Slump down a little. You're taller than me.

Now what do you see?

What the--

Well, I'll be damned.

I'll cover that bet.

Well, we're in the middle of a parking lot.

But where could it be?

I don't know.

Where's the arrow pointing?

Could be.

Who knows?

♪ Something's due any day ♪

♪ I will know right away ♪

♪ Soon as it shows ♪

♪ It came down from the sky ♪

♪ Bright as a pie, gleam in his eye ♪

♪ Bright as a rose ♪

- ♪ Who knows ♪ - You want to wrap this up, Tony?

We're in Shark territory.

Hee-yah!

David!

Where did you learn to do that?

Didn't you ever see Feats of Fury?

- Feats of Fury? - Sure.

Sequel to Fingers of Fury.

Prequel to Falsies of Fury,

which I found a little artificial.

Oh, really?

See if there's anything in there.

Oh, there is!

Get out of the way. Get out of the way. Got it?

Look!

Oh!

It's The Duchess.

I can't believe we found it.

Me either.

You two of done a great job of legwork on this case.

Too bad nobody's gonna know about it.

Hey! What the hell you doin' out here?

It's the middle of the night.

Maddie!

- David! - Run!

Hey, lady!

Lady, you can't come in here!

Hey, lady, you can't take that.

I didn't know they had squid in this neighborhood.

Maddie!

David!

Hey, hold it. Hold it. Come on, man.

- Hold it! - You can't shoot that in here!

Will you tell me,

why is it I'm always the one to get messed up?

- Thank you. - Come on, man.

You're gonna get me in a lot of trouble.

Hey, man. You can't do that.

Hey.

That's nice.

Wait a minute!

You can't drive this car.

You can't see anything.

Thank you.

Can't go anywhere in that car, man.

Well.

Guess that's that.

Tell me one more time about the poor slobs that live for me?

You keep wearin' that much makeup, and they're gonna lose interest.

♪ Some walk by night ♪

♪ Some fly by day ♪

♪ Nothing could change you ♪

♪ Set and sure of the way ♪

♪ There is the sun and moon ♪

♪ They sing their own sweet tune ♪

♪ Watch them when dawn is due ♪

♪ Sharing one space ♪

♪ We'll walk by night, babe ♪

♪ We'll fly by day ♪

♪ Moonlighting strangers ♪

♪ Who just met on the way ♪