Original subtitles

This is my boss, Jonathan Hart,

a self-made millionaire.

He's quite a guy.

This is Mrs. H. She's gorgeous.

She's one lady who knows how to take care of herself.

By the way, my name is Max.

I take care of both of them,

which ain't easy,

'cause when they met, it was murder.

AUTOMATED CLOCK VOICE: Good morning.

It is now 8:00 and time to get up.

It's 8:00 and 15 seconds.

You should be awake by now.

It's 8:01.

What are you doing in that bed?

Good morning, darling.

Oh. It would be better if...

somebody got rid of that talking alarm clock.

I think it's adorable.

Oh, maybe to some people.

Darling. Hmm.

Which one do you like?

The one with you in it.

Oh, come on, help me.

I wanna find something to wear

to the screening of Coppola's new movie.

Well, that's not a good idea.

Why not?

Well, I'm sure that Francis Ford

would want his guests

to watch the movement on the screen, huh?

Oh. You're cute.

Oh, by the way,

Harry Fulterman sent over your new suit.

If you want to wear it to the screening this weekend,

you'd better try it on and see if it fits

in all the right places.

Oh, I just thought of something horrible.

Yeah? What's that?

What if all his guests

come wearing jeans and a T-shirt?

Well, you could compromise.

You could wear running shoes with your cocktail dress.

Oh, you're a great help.

How does the suit fit?

Like a glove.

A baseball glove.

If you want to wear it to the screening this weekend,

do you think Harry can fix it in time?

Knowing Harry Fulterman, anything is possible.

I... I'm sorry, you know.

I gotta apologize profusely.

Ah, I'm in so much tsuris, I'm up to my ears.

You wanna hear about tsuris?

Last week, I had to hire my wife's nephew.

Like I had a choice, right?

Ah, the kid is tuned to another channel permanently.

Harry, maybe you made a mistake in the measurements.

Jonathan.

Heh.

I'm surprised at you.

I mean, how many suits have I made for you, huh?

Twenty?

Thirty? More?

I may not be a big macher lawyer,

like my brother, Arnold.

But I know the difference

between a collar and an inseam.

No, it's Cheryl's nephew.

Cheryl's nephew?

Yeah, the kid.

You know, I gave him

two blue suits to deliver.

Two.

It must have thrown him a curve.

You obviously got the wrong suit.

The other fella's suit.

And the other guy's got mine?

Have you tried to track it down?

What do you think I'm doing here?

Looking for partners for doubles?

Huh.

Here it is.

Here it is.

Martin Sole.

Yeah.

I remember this.

The guy don't even come into the store.

Calls me up,

says Don Rickles recommended me. Heh-heh.

Then he mails me the measurements.

You wanna talk about a hockey puck.

Mails me the measurements.

Harry... try calling him.

Oh, no, no, wait. He's down at the marina.

Marina del Rey Hotel.

Right by the beach, you know.

Room 321, please.

Heh. I love the suits-by-mail, don't you?

What?

Oh.

Thanks very much. He left a message.

He'd be back shortly.

I'll tell you what, Jonathan.

I'll go down to the beach.

I'll exchange the suit.

You won't have nothing to worry about.

Wait, wait, wait. Wait, wait. Harry.

I'm going down to the marina today

to have lunch with Jennifer.

We go right by the hotel. And I can pick up the suits.

It won't be any trouble at all.

Are you sure? Positive.

I feel terrible.

I mean, you gotta make a schlep down there

just because the kid made a mistake.

Here, I'll put this on here

and there won't be any more mistakes about this anyway.

Just trust me. I'll take care of everything.

Actually, you're doing me a favor.

You know what I gotta do today?

I gotta get out four pair of pleated flannels.

Pleats are back, you know.

Pleats. Ugh!

Yes, Martin Sole, please.

Operator, I've been trying to contact Mr. Sole all morning.

Is it possible he checked out?

No?

No, no. No message. Thank you.

He said it was Room 321. Oh.

He doesn't seem to be in.

So he doesn't.

Well, the door's open.

Hmm.

He's still not in.

Uh, shall we?

I mean, it's not like we were breaking and entering.

No. It's not like we were gonna steal something.

Actually, we might be doing him a favor.

We might.

What have we here?

Well, if it isn't the mysterious Mr. Sole.

You've become quite a celebrity around here,

if you don't mind my saying so.

Well, I'm, uh...

Darn if Lucille wasn't right.

She's always right.

About 6 feet tall, dark hair,

handsome. I'll say.

Oh, we had $5 in the pool,

but Lucille's always winning.

She even said he'd probably have a girlfriend.

I'll say.

Oh, I'm sorry,

I do go on jabbering away, don't I?

It's just that you've been such a mystery, Mr. Sole.

We were beginning to call you the invisible Mr. Sole.

Well, don't let me keep you.

You probably got a romantic luncheon date together

or something.

Actually, we do.

Excuse me, Mr. Sole.

If you don't mind my asking...

do you really want me to keep changing the linens,

seeing as you barely used the ones I put on yesterday

and the day before?

Ah, no, That won't be necessary, thanks.

I see that you got another one of those fine, new suits.

Would you like me to hang that in the closet for you?

Oh, no, I can take care of it, thank you.

Oh, Mr. Sole.

What have you done?

Let's lose the stiff, right now, okay?

Hey, anybody get an I.D. on this guy yet?

Hey.

Don't all talk at once.

It's a wonderful crew I got here.

Sergeant, uh, why are you keeping us?

We've told you everything we know.

Believe this?

I'm starving to death,

she gives me diet food?

Look at this. What do we got here?

Oh, good.

Crackers.

Wonderful.

That'll see me through about five minutes.

Mr. Hart... I believe your story.

Hell, I know who you are. But what am I gonna do?

Find you and your wife in another guy's room,

that's a B and E right there.

Plus we got some, uh... Some poor Louie in the closet

pushing up mothballs.

We told you,

we only came here to exchange the suits.

Please, I'm straight on the suit story, I think.

Would you like one of these?

No. No, thanks.

Mr. Hart... you're a big shot.

You're a big shot.

Sometimes that can work against you.

If I pop you two out of here,

I'd have every civil action group in the city

breathing down my neck in two minutes.

I just gotta take you down to the station for questioning.

Why won't you just let us call Lieutenant Grey.

Come on, Mrs. Hart,

try to look at it from my point of view, okay?

It's a murder investigation.

Murder. No favors.

Okay? Please.

Want one of these? You sure?

You're sure?

Positive.

Excuse me. What?

Sorry.

All right.

Um, excuse me, somebody's got an urgent message for me,

and naturally, it can't wait.

I'm sorry, I'll be right back.

Okay, it's urgent? Urge away.

CIA.

Yeah.

Can I talk with you, Sarge?

Tell the coroner to hold the razzle-dazzle, all right?

I'm not interested in what the guy had for dinner,

what his girlfriend's name is, all right?

Just stuff I can use. Tell him that.

Sergeant, I'd like to use the phone.

Sure, go ahead. Order a pizza, while you're at it.

I want to call my lawyer.

No, don't bother.

You can go home.

But you just said...

I don't know, I just said... What does that mean?

What does that mean?

I'm just the guy supposed to find the murderer, right?

It's nothing, right?

Orders came... from up high.

You can go.

I don't understand.

Whose word from up high?

Look. Um, excuse me, Mr. Hart, I've had a long day.

I need my carbohydrates.

Be happy. Heh.

Go home.

Let me eat in peace.

Don't try to pull your poor- little-puppy routine on me.

The vet says you gotta take off two pounds.

You can whine all you like but it won't do you one bit of good.

Because you're dealing with a cold-hearted character,

when you're dealing with me.

They don't call me Max the Heartless for nothing.

I know just how you feel...

but I am immovable.

I am implacable.

I am invincible.

Ha. You didn't think I knew all those big words, did you?

But I know a little one too.

N-O. No.

You got no willpower, you know that?

All right, Lieutenant.

Oh.

Okay, well, thanks very much.

All right. Bye-bye.

Lieutenant Grey says they haven't even heard

of the murder down at headquarters.

Really? Yep.

Well, then who gave the orders to let us go?

I don't know, but I'm getting more and more interested

as time goes on.

Poor Mr. Sole.

He never got a chance to wear his new suit.

He might yet.

What do you mean?

Martin Sole wasn't the dead man.

How do you know that?

I thought you said the police never identified the body.

Right. I did say that.

But the man that fell out of the closet was half my size.

And if you remember, when I put on Martin Sole's suit,

it was two sizes too big for me.

Hey. That's very good, Mr. H.

Thanks, Max.

Maybe we just ought to listen

to Sergeant Finnegan's suggestion

that we just forget this thing

ever happened. Right.

Max, uh... do we have any coffee?

Yeah. I'll make some.

But you know something.

Doesn't it strike you as strange

that everyone was so willing

to believe that you were Martin Sole?

What happened to "forget whatever happened?"

In a minute, darling.

And what do you think about that maid

saying that you never used the linen?

I don't know, but it would help if we could find Martin Sole.

He's probably the only one

that knows what's going on.

Why don't we just ask him?

What do you mean?

Remember that piece of paper I gave you?

He's having dinner tonight

at the Pompeii Restaurant at 6:00.

Have I told you that I loved you lately?

Yes, last night.

But not in so many words.

Hmm.

You know, darling... if you saw that note,

and, uh, the police and probably the killer

saw that same note...

Yes, but... there's no law

against going out to dinner.

Anything wrong?

I think someone is following us.

Darling, don't turn around.

I don't want them to know that we know.

Oh.

I've got an idea.

Hey, that's very clever.

Thank you.

Can you see anything?

Well, whoever it is,

it certainly isn't Martin Sole.

How do you know that?

Because I can see him.

Doesn't look like a Martin.

Ralph maybe, or William, but... not Martin.

Well, if it's all the same to you,

I don't want any of them following us.

Hang on.

Hold on, darling.

I just wanted to work up an appetite before dinner.

Good evening. Good evening.

Oh, I have a reservation: Martin Sole.

Hi, Mr. Sole. Right this way, please.

Oh.

Would you like to have a drink before dinner?

Oh, I don't think so. Darling?

Some wine?

Mmm. All right.

The house white is excellent.

Ah, fine. We'll have that.

Darling... what would you have done

if Martin Sole was already here?

I'd have him pick up the check.

I'm serious.

What do we do now?

We order and we wait.

Buona sera. Mm.

We have the special this evening,

fresh and delicious catch of the day,

pesce alla sorrentino.

Oh. What kind of pesce is that?

A filet of sole off the bone.

I think I'll have the veal.

But the sole is really quite...

Make that two veals.

Something to start?

Um, prosciutto melon.

Ah, prosciutto melon. Make that two.

Va bene.

Thank you.

Perhaps some coffee?

Espresso, please.

Cappuccino for me.

Grazie.

Well, Mr. Sole certainly keeps a low profile.

A little too low.

Well, it could have been worse.

He might have made a reservation at the, uh, Ketchup Room.

Oh. Lovely.

Thank you.

♪ Happy birthday ♪

♪ To you ♪

♪ Happy birthday ♪

♪ To you ♪

♪ Happy birthday ♪

♪ Mrs. Sole ♪

♪ Happy birthday ♪

♪ To you ♪

Oh, oh.

Thank you. Thank you.

How many birthdays do you have a year?

Oh, one. Sometimes less.

Oh. Happy birthday, Mrs. Sole.

Thank you... very much.

Well...

Well, Mrs. Sole, it, um, is your birthday.

I, uh, think you better dig in. Hmm.

Suppose I have to make

a wish and blow out the candle.

Well, here goes.

Darling. Hm?

You all right?

Looks like someone wanted this

to be my last birthday.

Yeah, and someone's wish didn't come true.

It's all right, Freeway. I gave 'em the okay to come up.

Can I help you?

Is Mr. Hart in?

Mr. and Mrs. Hart are out to dinner.

My name is William Dean.

I'm a special agent with Central Intelligence.

The CIA.

May I come in?

Sure.

When do you expect Mr. and Mrs. Hart to return?

Not too late. They'll probably be home right after dinner.

They're at the Pompeii.

May I use your telephone?

Sure. There's one right there, help yourself.

Yeah, it's Dean.

They got away from me.

I'll explain later.

No, but I'm gonna need four new tires.

Get someone over to the restaurant.

I don't know. Somehow they found out Sole had reservations.

Right.

Come on in, I'll fix you a cup of coffee.

Thank you.

You knew about this guy, Martin Sole?

Oh, all too well, I'm afraid.

CIA, huh?

Mr. H went out looking for him.

I bet that he's history.

I voted that he was the guy in the closet.

The man they found in the hotel was my partner, Alex Kane.

Then Mr. H is right.

Martin Sole is still alive.

I'm afraid not.

Martin Sole never existed.

Wait a minute. Mr. H went to his hotel room.

Sole made dinner reservations.

My people made those arrangements.

You mean you... you just dreamed this guy up?

That's right.

Martin Sole was created to smoke out a double agent.

Wait a minute. I... I better see your I.D. card again.

Let me explain.

For the past 18 months,

information has been leaking out of our London office.

We created Martin Sole

and let it be known that he had evidence

on who leaked that information.

The evidence was for sale.

You figured this double agent would get antsy

and make a move on Sole.

That's right.

We checked the fictitious Mr. Sole

in half a dozen hotels

before the bait was taken.

Why do I have the feeling

that I've heard this all somewhere before.

Oh. Anyway. That's why I have to talk to Mr. Hart.

The double agent's name is Patrick Burke.

When we moved Sole to the States,

Burke followed.

Everything was moving smoothly

until Mr. Hart walked into that hotel room.

You mean this guy Burke

thinks that Mr. H is really Martin Sole?

It seems that way.

Now, I know why this all sounds familiar.

Last week on the late show, I saw an old Cary Grant film.

One of the men

in our Operations division saw the same movie.

Darling.

There's the man who was following us.

It's all right, Mrs. Hart. My name is William Dean.

I'm with Central Intelligence.

We really could use your help in this matter, Mr. Hart.

To catch up with Burke?

That's right. If we could get the two of you together,

he might tip his hand,

or you might be able to con the information out of him.

With some luck he might make a mistake.

And then again, he might not.

We have to protect Mr. Hart, one way or another.

Burke thinks that you're Martin Sole

and can put him away.

He's not about to give up without a confrontation.

And you'd be doing us a great service.

If the suit fits, huh?

Now, what I'd like to do

is get you down to my office

first thing in the morning.

Fill you in on what we know.

Catch you up on what you're supposed to know.

I'll have some of my men come out to watch the house.

I'll see you in the morning.

Mr. Dean. How do we know your people?

Excuse me?

I mean, what code are you gonna use?

"The soft breeze blows across the river,"

that sort of thing.

Well, that's starting to get a little corny.

You see, none of our people could say it

with a straight face.

Just ask for their identification.

Okay.

You take care, now.

You be careful now, darling.

I will, sweetheart. Mm.

And don't you worry, okay?

Okay?

Okay.

Mrs. H, I know how you feel,

but I wouldn't worry too much.

Most of these agents are pretty savvy.

Did you ever read The Fedora File?

No, I don't think so.

I certainly hope Jonathan's doing the right thing.

You gotta try to keep your mind off it.

Yeah.

Yeah, that's the best idea I've heard all day.

Well, I've got a desk full of papers.

That ought to keep my mind off of Martin Sole.

The moon is blue in January.

Ahh.

Who is it?

Central Intelligence.

You must be Mr. Hart's valet.

Well, not exactly.

Is Mr. Hart around?

Uh... Wait a minute... Wh...

Mrs. Hart?

Yes.

Special agent, CIA.

Your man told me to come up.

Oh, yes.

Ah, Dean said he'd be sending someone over.

I'm afraid we'll want you down at the office, ma'am.

Oh, uh, of course.

Listen, you couldn't manage

to redo this entire week for me, could you?

I think I know how you feel. I'm sorry.

That's all right.

Well, I suppose we should go.

After all, I only have one life to give to my country.

That should be more than enough.

Thank you.

Remember, Mr. Hart,

Burke knows more about Martin Sole than you do.

First, you have to be convincing.

And, hopefully, you can find out

how he passed that information.

Uh, what's your name?

Tsk. Martin Paul Sole.

Age?

Forty.

What's your status?

Special agent, European division, double A.

You left London about a month ago. Why?

I had obtained records and information

on Patrick Burke... containing proof

that he was selling security information.

Did he use the mails, the telephone?

All the correspondence was re-read.

The phones were monitored.

Why, do I get the feeling that someone's gonna ask me

who hit the winning home run in the 1977 World Series.

This is important, Mr. Hart. We have to find out

how he got around our security.

Now... after you left London,

where did you go?

Brussels. And then?

Paris.

And that's where he kills you.

After Brussels, you went to Antwerp

and then to Paris.

Burke knows where he was.

One slip and he will kill you.

He already tried to.

Nah. Burke's one of the best.

That stunt with the cake,

that was just to shake you up,

let you know that he can get to you.

If he wants you dead, you'd be dead.

All right.

London, Brussels, Antwerp, Paris.

Okay. Who was your contact in the States?

Richard Kline.

And when did you arrive in Los Angeles?

Dean.

How long ago?

We're leaving right now.

There's been some trouble at your house.

How do you feel, Max?

I'm all right, thanks.

I'm sorry, Mr. H, but it all happened so fast.

I don't know what hit me.

Max... is this the man?

Yeah, that's him.

He showed identification.

Yeah, well, you couldn't have known.

The identification's legitimate.

You got an extension?

Over there.

Hello.

You know I have your wife, Mr. Hart.

Let me talk to her.

You're hardly in a position to make demands.

How do I know if she's all right?

Three words. That's all.

"I'm all right."

I'm all right, darling.

Enjoy it, sir.

It may be the last you hear from her.

What do you want?

You and your evidence.

I will kill her.

Where and when?

Motor Avenue. Parking lot. Back of the tennis courts.

Two hours.

We gotta make a play.

Even with your wife...

Burke's not gonna believe that you'd give up that easy.

We've got another problem.

He wants the evidence.

We don't have anything to trade.

Look, damn it, Hart.

I've been working on this investigation

for 18 months.

And I am not about to blow it now.

Let me tell you something, Dean.

I don't give a damn about your investigation.

That man's got my wife.

And the thing that's so dangerous

is that he's scared.

Now, we better figure out a way

to get her out of there... and now.

Burke!

Have you got it?

Where's my wife?

I asked you a question.

Have you got it?

This isn't what we talked about, Sole!

Whatever it takes... I want my wife back.

You can't even be sure if she's still alive!

Stay out of this, Dean.

Get out of here.

There's gotta be more behind him.

Get out of here before they get both of us.

Get out!

What do you got? They're a mile north of here.

What's our range?

Mm, about five miles.

We used the smallest transmitter we could find.

All right, let's roll.

Now, Mr. Sole... or should I say, Mr. Hart?

It would seem as if

you're not going to be very popular

around headquarters from now on.

Where is my wife?

If she is your wife... she's safe...

for the moment.

What's happening?

They're only up about a half mile.

There's no movement.

Damn.

Your gun.

Carefully.

Now... who are you... really?

I thought you were the one with all the answers, Burke.

No, sir. I'm the one with your wife.

Answer the question.

This was going to be a trade.

On my terms.

Five minutes. If they don't move by then,

we're going on in. Right.

Open the briefcase.

It looks like you, sir...

have just run out of bargaining power.

Close it.

And get rid of it. Out the window.

He's moving. All right, let's go.

S... Something's wrong.

He's moving way too slow.

It stopped.

Pull over right here.

Hold it.

This is great.

And Burke's got Jonathan Hart somewhere.

And all Hart's got

is a gun with four blank shells left.

And hopefully... a lot of luck.

Where's my wife? Move along.

I expect you'd prefer the front row.

Sit down.

Where's my wife?

My questions first.

Now, once again, who are you?

You mean, what do I know about your selling out.

Selling out?

Oh, that's ironic.

The people I work for used words like "patriotism."

I'm going to ask you one more time.

I want to know how you found out about me.

I was very careful.

Obviously, not careful enough.

No?

We considered our little telephone transfer undetectable.

They thought that office was secure,

that no one could find a way around their security.

And all I had to do was pick up the telephone.

You monitored their phones.

Well, they always are.

But our device... emitted no noise,

no audible code.

So, for every routine phone call that you made,

information was passed along electronically

in the conversation.

Clever, isn't it?

Every time someone picked up the phone,

it didn't matter who they called,

our device dumped information into waiting hands.

Maybe...

you put too much faith in technology.

Perhaps.

How did you find out?

Of course, there's another possibility.

Maybe you never had any evidence.

Maybe you thought you'd get lucky.

Kill me and get the money you hoped

I'd pay for your evidence.

Better luck next time.

You can't get far.

They think they've got Cody Jarrett.

They haven't got Cody Jarrett.

You hear, they haven't got him.

And I wanna show ya. They haven't got him.

Ha-ha. Come and get me!

The hero dies in the last reel, Mr. Hart.

You won't get away, Mr. Hart.

You can't hide forever.

Made it, Ma!

Top of the world!

Darling. Are you all right?

I'm fine. Just get me loose.

I'm trying to get a fix on Burke, but I can't see him.

But he can see you.

Well, this simplifies things.

Now I can kill you both together.

Burke.

Dean and his men will be here any minute.

Ah, now, that's a desperate move, sir.

It was all staged.

I didn't kill Dean.

Pity.

You see, the gun I used

to shoot Dean with...

it was loaded with blanks.

Standard issue.

Same as yours.

You've got my gun.

But no bullets.

Well, then you've nothing to worry about.

I thought you said he had the blanks.

I thought it always worked that way in the movies.

Well, what do you think?

Ohh.

Harry did a great job.

What time is the screening? Seven thirty.

You know, I don't even know

what Coppola's new picture's all about?

Oh, remember that book Max was reading last month,

The Capricorn Caper?

Oh, international intrigue.

Mmm.

Guns, double agents, British accents.

Secret codes... intriguing plot twists.

That's right. Uh-huh.

Anything good on television?

Darling, we have a special invitation.

Well, we could stay home and, uh...

not watch television.

Oh?

Mm-hm.

What did you have in mind?

AUTOMATED CLOCK VOICE: Good evening, Mr. H.

It is now 6:00.

I am your... Don't say it.

Personalized talking appointment reminder.

Jonathan. Reconfirming...

It is now 6:00 and 15 seconds.

We don't want to be late, do we?

All I was gonna say is that, uh...

time sure flies when you're having fun.