All language subtitles for Hart to Hart S05E09 Highland Fling.DVDRip.NonHI.cc.en

Max: 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.

We MacLaishes are one
of the oldest Scottish clans

with members scattered
throughout the world.

We embrace nearly

a hundred sub-clans or septs.

The McFarrens, the
Caldwoods, the Murdochs,

names like that.

Ah. Well, Sir Gavin,
I'm interested in writing

an article about the
entire clan system,

all the history, the traditions,

how it's managed to exist

all this time across
national boundaries.

Right through here, Mrs. Hart.

Oh, thank you.

I'll be glad to give you an
interview, young woman,

but I'm a wee bit tired.

That's the trouble
with being the chieftain

of a clan in this modern age.

- Uh-huh.
- You spend half your life

fighting the jetlag.

I understand.

Sir Gavin came
over a few days early

so he could rest up before
the games as my guest.

This is beautiful.

Thank you.

Now, forgive me, Mrs. Hart,
but we have some important

business to discuss.

Of course.

Perhaps we can arrange
for an appointment?

Why don't you call
me in the morning?

I'll set it up.

Wonderful. Thank you.

I look forward to
seeing you again.

Sir Gavin, bye-bye.

Oh, you've done a grand
job here, Ramsey MacLaish.

A wee bit of Scotland
in Malibu, California.

It's an honor to
have you in my home.

Right this way, Sir Gavin.

You said in your cable
you had a problem.

Our relationship, is a distant
one, Ramsey MacLaish,

genealogically
and geographically,

but you are my logical heir.

Well, I'm glad you came to me.

Hell, blood is
thicker than water.

Aye, it is. It is.

You said something
about a valuable discovery.

An elderly uncle died

and I found this old parchment

among his papers.

It proves beyond a
shadow of a doubt

that a certain relic,

a Scottish national treasure,

is buried on my estate
beneath the foundations

of Glengarry Castle.

King Duncan's claymore?

The royal ceremonial sword.

Forged in gold and
studded with gems.

It must be worth
several million.

But I don't see a problem.

All you've got
to do is dig it up.

Problem is Glengarry Castle
no longer belongs to me.

Regrettably, for so many years,

I have been unable
to pay my taxes.

Her Majesty's government
is about to foreclose.

Turn me out.

Ah, I see.

You want me to pay your taxes.

How do you plan to pay me back?

By putting the sword on display

in the castle for the tourists.

Mind you, it may
take a few years.

Has anyone else
seen this document?

Not another living soul.

I flew straight here
from Edinburgh.

Sir Gavin, let's take a dram.

To the sword.

To the sword of Duncan.

I'm sure you know
your "Macbeth."

There's danger in men's smiles.

The nearer in blood,
the nearer bloody.

Colonel.

Let's get him up
to the guestroom.

Old chieftains should die
in comfort in their beds.

That's got it, Mrs. H.

Oh, Max, I don't know.

You think it's
a little too loud?

No. But it ain't exactly
whispering either.

It looked a lot of different
in the pattern book.

No. You did fine.
It looks great.

Hello, Freeway.

How are you, boy?
Come on. Come on.

- Hi, Mr. H.
- Hi, Max.

- Hi, darling.
- Hello.

How was your day?

I don't really know yet.

Oh, when will you know?

I will know in about two minutes

when the business news goes on.

We put some stock
on the market today.

Maybe we make a killing
and maybe we didn't.

Would you like
something to drink?

No, thank you. Do you
notice anything different?

Different? Turn around.

You got your hair cut.

My hair? No.

New lipstick?

No.

New sweater outfit, the slacks?

Mnh-mnh.

I noticed them the
moment I walked in.

- You did?
- I like it.

- You do?
- Uh-huh.

Oh, great.

Try to resolve the state budget.

On the local front,
Scottish clan chieftain

Sir Gavin MacLaish
died last night

at the home of a
friend in Malibu,

reportedly of a stroke.

Sir Gavin was in California

to preside over next
weekend's Highland Games

organized by the
Californian Scottish Society.

He was 73.

Sir Gavin's body will be flown
home to Scotland for burial.

Coming up next, we'll take a
look at today's business news.

I just saw him yesterday.

He was fine.

Just a little tired, but fine.

Well, wasn't he...
quite an old man?

I guess so.

He was so sweet.

I'll call the society.

I suppose they're
having a funeral for him.

I'd like to go if
you don't mind.

Oh, no.

I'm real sorry, darling.

Well, there he goes,

taking the high road to Scotland

back to the hills
of his beginning.

Did he suffer much pain?

No, I don't think so. He
didn't come down to dinner

so when I went to bed,
I stopped by his room.

He was in a coma,
scarcely breathing.

I called Dr. Baird,
but it was no use.

By the time that he got there,

Sir Gavin was gone.

Excuse me. This is my husband
Jonathan Hart. Ramsey MacLaish.

How do you do?

And Jeannie Marnach,

Secretary to the
Scottish Society.

And chairperson
of the clan council

for my sins.

Oh, and this is Alec Seton,

our champion weight thrower.

Pleasure. Mrs. Hart, Mr. Hart.

- How do you do?
- How do you do?

Jennifer, I do hope you go
ahead with the article about us.

I'm just sure that's what Sir
Gavin would have wanted.

Well, if that's what you
think, I'd be delighted.

When can we talk?

Well, you'll have
to bear with me.

The games are less
than a week away

and now I do have to
call a special meeting.

Special meeting? What for?

To decide who's
gonna succeed Sir Gavin

as MacLaish of MacLaish

and take over the Glengarry
Estates in Scotland.

Decide? It's a formality.
I'm his only relative.

Jeannie: You know
the tradition very well.

Succession isn't only
determined by bloodline.

I mean, the council
does have to approve.

Jeannie, half the
council lives in Scotland.

I've already cabled them.

Either they'll fly over here

or they'll give
me their proxies.

You're really gonna
put it to a vote?

Old time clan democracy.

My, my.

Now, suit yourself.

Just make sure you elect someone

who'll support
all your activities

the way I have.

Well, he certainly is confident.

He's rich.

Having money doesn't
make a chieftain.

I need a person of
unimpeachable honor

He's just unfit.

Among other things, Ramsey's
chemical company was fined

for secretly dumping
toxic waste materials.

Not exactly what you
would call public spirit.

The problem is that
he was born in Scotland

and he does have
the hereditary claim

and that still carries

a lot of weight for the council.

Why don't you run against him?

Well, you know, if I don't
find a stronger candidate,

I might have to do that.

She'd get my vote.

They say

that that is bonny Prince
Charles' favorite liquor.

- Oh.
- Hmm.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

Oh.

If he'd given this
to his generals,

he would have beat
the English for sure.

I'm sorry to disturb you,

but you got a visitor.

Isn't it a little late?

She says it's urgent.

She's on her way
up from the gate.

She?

Oh, hello, Max.

Forgive me for just
bursting in like this,

but I have been on the phone

to Edinburgh all
day and Jennifer,

you're not gonna believe this.

You're a member of our clan.

Me?

How?

Your great Aunt Morra.

She was a Caldwood.
And the Caldwoods

are a sect of the
great clan MacLaish.

Now, now, just
according to my sources,

she was married to Colin
MacLaish of Drumgarve,

the third son of Hamish
McLeish of McLeish,

the laird of Invercranky

and that puts
you in direct line.

Direct line?

What does all this mean?

It means that
Mr. Ramsey T. MacLaish

is going to have a serious rival

for the chieftainship,

a person of equally
strong hereditary claim,

you my dear.

Meeting will come to order.

Sir Gavin MacLaish of MacLaish,

the 293rd chieftain,

died leaving no
direct descendants.

Excuse me.

Hi.

Two nominations have
been received by the council.

The successor will of course
inherit Glengarry Castle

in Scotland along with its
highland estate, Grasmoore,

salmon fishery
and family distillery.

It sounds like a dandy place
for a weekend hideaway.

Mm-hmm.

As is our custom, a
celebration Highland ball

will be held the
evening after the games

at the home of
the new chieftain.

I look forward to having
you all there as my guests.

I now call on Pipe
Major Donald Crammond

to announce the results
of the council ballot.

The count, including
the proxy votes,

is as follows,
Mr. Ramsey T. MacLaish

of Los Angeles
County, California,

- 17.
- Whoa.

Mrs. Jennifer Hart,

also of Los Angeles, 17.

We have a tie vote.

So, in accordance
with tradition,

the choice will be made by
the clan members themselves

at the Highland Ball

and I guess our only problem

is to decide where
it's going to be held.

I'll still be happy
to host the ball.

I have every confidence
in the membership.

How does Jennifer
Hart feel about that?

Perhaps we should toss a coin.

Would the two candidates
please join us for the toss?

Pipe Major.

Prince Charles crown.

Let the lady call.

Heads.

Heads it is.

The ball will be held at the
home of Mr. and Mrs. Hart,

and that concludes the meeting.

Congratulations, Mrs. Hart.

I hope you know
what you're getting into.

Oh, well, actually,
Mr. MacLaish, I don't.

- Ramsey: You mean
they didn't tell you?
- No.

Glengarry Castle is a moldy
old ruin. The distillery is closed.

The whole place is encumbered
with taxes and in fact,

the British Government's
about to foreclose.

Well, if Jennifer does
become chieftain,

it'll be my pleasure
to pay the taxes

and be sure that
the place is restored.

That's a very generous
campaign contribution, Mr. Hart.

I'm sure you'd do the same.

Naturally.

Well, may the best person win.

We're gonna give a party.

Mm-hmm.

Being married to a
chieftain could be a lot of fun.

Oh. I don't know. I think this
whole thing has gone a little too far.

Oh, personal involvement ought to
produce a better story, don't you think?

It's complicating everything.

What do you think the
people in Scotland think

about a third generation
American becoming a chieftain?

I never even heard
of Aunt Morra.

Hart Industries has a
representative in Edinburgh.

Why don't you call them
and have them check it out?

What's his name?

Abe Solomon.

His clan's even
older than yours.

A formidable
rival, Mr. MacLaish.

A bonny lass with a rich husband

and you told me
she's hosting the ball.

All I need is one more vote.

Perhaps a little lobbying,

some friendly persuasion

maybe one of the council

could change his mind.

And Alec Seton
looks like the best bet.

He's not too bright,

works for a fast food franchise.

He will be at the
stadium training.

I'm glad I brought
you over here, Colonel.

The old country had nothing

to offer a retired officer

with gentlemanly tastes.

This is still the
land of opportunity.

I can always find work
for a man of your talent.

Welcome to Brigadoon.

You know, I used to do a little

Highland dancing
when I was in school.

What made you give it up?

Oh, I kept cutting
my feet on the swords.

I've been meaning
to ask you, darling,

what does a
chieftain's husband do,

is it sort of like being
a queen's consort?

No, not really.

Actually, he has
a very difficult job.

He has to tune the ceremonial
bagpipes every morning.

Then he has to judge
haggis cookouts,

things like that.

All work and no play.

Oh, I wouldn't say that.

Life is one long highland fling.

Oh.

Come on, Alec...

Let's raise it,
guys. Twelve feet?

Not me. I'm through.

Not even for an Edinburgh ale?

Nope. I'll pass.

- Take care, guys - Okay.
See you tomorrow, Alec.

Don't overdo it.

Mr. MacLaish.

- You're looking good, lad.
- Not bad.

You're gonna win, I know it.
You got winner written all over you.

I'm a winner, too.

Oh, I'm so glad you're here.

Donald has something
he wants to show you.

This was delivered
to me this morning.

It was mailed a
week ago in Scotland.

It's from Sir Gavin.

"I've made a startling
historic discovery,

which will solve all
my financial problems

and enable us to
restore Glengarry Castle."

He didn't say anything
to me about this.

"I'm leaving at
once for California.

By the time I see you, I
hope to have concluded

a business agreement
to finance the project."

I may not be real smart.

I didn't make
college or anything,

but I was brought
up to be honest.

I know right from wrong.

You're trying to get me to
change my vote, Mr. MacLaish.

Pay me off with a better job?

Now hold on, son.
Look at it this way.

I know the way to look at it.

You're offering me a bribe.

I'm going to report this
to the rest of the council.

- What are you suggesting,
pipe major?
- I'm not sure.

All I know is Sir Gavin never
had any history of heart disease.

And Ramsey MacLaish
never said one word

about any kind of discovery
or business agreement?

The weight must
have fallen on his head.

He must have
misjudged his throw.

It's genuine, no doubt about it.

The sword is there
just for the taking.

The IRS is on my back.

They want several million
in the next couple of months.

This damn thing is worth
more than the North Sea oil.

As chieftain, you'll be expected
to return to the Scottish nation.

I'll have it up for
auction at Christie's

the week after I take
over Glengarry Castle.

If you take over.

Do you think I'm
gonna let a woman

stand in the way of
a chance like this?

Oh, the Highland
dancing is starting soon.

I'd like to see that.

Me too.

Well, it's over in the open air
theater. You got plenty of time.

Oh, good.

Excuse me, I've got
some guests around here.

Something wrong?

No, I just never realized
what cute legs you have.

- Will you cut it out?
- No, they are very cute.

You are what the
Scots called a... "laddie."

- How do you feel?
- I feel fine.

No chill? No cold?

No. No wind.

Then it's true what
they say about the Scots.

What do they say
about the Scots?

Oh, you know what they say.

- No.
- Oh, come on,

you can tell me, I need to know

for my article, research.

It appears to me you have a...

Will you cut that out?

Not here.

I'll give you the
bare facts later,

a full exposure.

Promise?

He's dead.

- Mr. H.
- You have three deaths
in a matter of days...

The old chieftain
apparently a coronary,

then the young athlete
gets his skull busted,

could have been an
accident and now this.

Are you suggesting that
all three are connected?

I think it's a whole lot more
than just coincidence, Mrs. Hart.

- Excuse me.
- MacBridger,

what do you know about him?

He was a retired
colonel from Highlanders,

resident of California for three years
and listed his occupation as consultant.

And he was a
member of the society,

you know, a quiet
man, he kept to himself.

- Excuse me.
- Lieutenant Delaney,

my wife was the target.

That arrow missed her by inches.

MacBridger tried to kill her.

Or somebody hired
him to try and kill her.

Then that somebody
could still be around.

Delaney: That's true.

Any idea who that might be?

I think perhaps

maybe you better
take a look at this letter.

It was written to Pipe Major
Crammond from Sir Gavin.

And I think you oughta
take a look at this telex.

It's from Scotland, urgent.

This is from Abe Solomon,
our representative in Edinburgh.

"After speaking to Lord
Lionel, King of Arms,

it has been
discovered that Jennifer

has no hereditary claim.

No bloodline connections to
Clan MacLaish whatsoever."

Signed Abe.

Aunt Morra.

There is no such person.

You invented her.

Why did you do that, Jeannie?

Oh, God... I'm sorry.

I just had to prevent
Ramsey MacLaish

from becoming chieftain.

Maybe now you understand why.

Jennifer, you are our
only hope to beat him.

I'm... I'm sorry.

I don't get it. Somebody
would kill two or three people

for an honorary title and
a broken down estate?

I think there's a whole
lot more to it than that,

this business deal.

Ramsey is going
to be here tonight

for the ball and
for the final vote.

He might try it again.

That would be our perfect chance
to bring him out into the open.

I don't have a shred of
evidence as of right now.

Don't worry, Mrs. Hart,

I'll have men all
over this house.

- You were wonderful.
- Oh, you were great.

- Wasn't that fun? I loved that.
- Man: Mrs. Hart.

- Are you...
- Mr. Mooky MacPherson.

- Oh, how do you do?
- I know you're gonna make it.

Oh, why, thank you.

Won't that be great,
a woman chieftain?

Well, you know, they did tell me

that there have been
other women chieftains.

- You're kidding.
- Unh-unh.

Wow.

I think that's great.

Well, as they say
in the old country...

Mr. Hart.

Mooky.

Whiskey.

No, I think that...

Oh, this is the traditional
dram of Glengarry malt.

- To toast the successor.
- Ah.

Excuse me, I'll be right back.

Clansmen, ladies,
your attention, please.

It is my great pleasure
to welcome you all

to the California Scottish
Society's 33rd Highland Ball.

Besides having a
wonderful evening together...

3:00 in the afternoon? Are
you sure about that, Lieutenant?

That was the time on the death
certificate signed by Dr. Baird.

Then Ramsey lied because he
said he went to Sir Gavin's room

after dinner and
found him in a coma.

That's all I need
to bring him in

for questioning and
search his place.

Before the members of the clan

choose Sir Gavin's successor,

I would like to
ask you all to rise

and observe a minute's
silence in his memory.

Jeannie: Thank you.

Please be seated.

I now call on Pipe
Major Donald Crammond.

The members of
the Clan MacLaish,

in accordance with tradition,

will now choose a new leader

by show of hands.

There are two claimants.

First Mrs. Jennifer Hart.

And second Ramsey T. MacLaish.

Obviously, there's no
reason to have a count.

A salute to the new chieftain,

Jennifer, MacLaish of MacLaish.

All: Jennifer,
MacLaish of MacLaish.

Congratulations.

Thank you.

Will the new chieftain
respond to the toast?

Do I have to give a speech?

Drink to the clan.

Jennifer: Oh.

To the clan.

Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen.

You should be more careful
whom you drink with, darling.

What?

Especially when the man
owns a pharmaceutical firm.

I just talked to the
police, Ramsey.

Sir Gavin died six hours
earlier than you said.

I saw you switch the glasses.

Now, you're wondering

why Jennifer isn't reacting.

How are you feeling, darling?

Fine.

You know why that is, Ramsey?

Because I switched
the glasses back.

You drank your own poison.

How long will it take?

Are you feeling much pain?

For God's sake,
I'll need a doctor.

You hired MacBridger.

- Please.
- Answer me.

Yes. Yes.

The doctors will have to
know what you've taken.

Was it the same poison
that you gave Sir Gavin?

It was a blood coagulant,
a new discovery.

For God's sake.

And impossible
to trace, no doubt.

It causes a coronary.

Relax, Ramsey.

This is the one
with the poison in it.

Lieutenant,

will you take that
down to the police lab

and have it checked?

Well?

Darling.

Darling, I think I could
use a little scotch.

Jeannie: Sir Duncan's sword

was right where
the old parson said.

Excavated by the
courtesy of Abe Solomon.

Gonna keep it,
Mr. H, or sell it?

Neither one, Max.

The new chieftain elected
unanimously after Jennifer's resignation

is going to take it
back to Scotland for me

and give it to the
National Museum.

Oh, Max, I brought you something

wonderful from Edinburgh.

- For me?
- Mm-hmm.

What is it?

If I'm not mistaken,
isn't that haggis?

- Huh?
- That's right.

Oh, the Scottish national dish.

Yeah.

What's it made of?

It's sheep's liver and heart

and lungs and all
minced with oatmeal

and spices and sewn
up in the stomach.

Jeez.

It's delicious.

Really? Delicious?

Sure. You'll love it.

All you have to do is just
boil it for about an hour.

What about it, Mr. and Mrs. H,

want some for dinner?

- Um...
- Well, uh...

- I think we have...
- We have a reservation.

- Reservations.
- We're going to have a pizza

at George Santa Pietro's.

Oh, yes, we are.

What about you
and I splitting this?

Haggis by candlelight?

Nothing sounds more romantic.